Disclaimer: I do not own iZombie or its characters.

Warning: Contains sexual contents.

X X X

An Explosion of Sensations

X X X

The good doctor called him.

"After remaining normal for 162 days, the test subject – the cured rat – reverted to its zombie form." Ravi sighs. "It's highly likely that the regression will happen to the cured humans as well at some point."

He was silent for just a moment. "Ah. I see zombie Blaine can't be subdued."

X X X

As much as Angus had failed as a father, he was right about him.

He is a hedonist. He enjoys being human. Despite how weak – how incompetent human Blaine had been before all these happened, there is a certain beauty about being human that enthralls him.

The food. The sex. The feeling of his heart beating a lively rhythm. Though he cannot deny he misses zombie Blaine sometimes.

Zombie Blaine was important. Exceptional. Zombie Blaine had achieved what human Blaine couldn't. Zombie Blaine could easily become the boss of Seattle.

Blaine twirls his wine glass between his fingers contemplatively. He eventually sighs and drinks up his wine. Then he picks up the phone and makes a few calls.

"Yes. I want the veal Milanese, and the Pappardelle with slow cooked lamb ragu."

"The large sashimi party boat."

"A chicken quesadilla, an enchiladas and beef tostadas."

"Cantonese chow mein and Gong Bao chicken."

So much for his daily cardio.

Blaine looks at the feast before him. Real food without brains in it. He pours himself another glass of wine and pushes the button on his stereo.

Orchestral music instantly fills the room, and he smiles with satisfaction.

The best wine. The best food. The best music. Add a warm, soft, feminine body to the list then it'd be an explosion of sensations. Maybe later tonight.

He tears the plastic wrapper off the disposable cutlery and accidentally knocks his wallet off of the table. Blaine bends over to retrieve the scattered cards that fell out from his wallet, and a grin cracks his face.

Free car wash.

The brunette comes to mind right away. Pretty, determined, brave, and naive. Naive enough to openly take on Stacey Boss. Miss Charles…Blaine frowns. What's her first name again?

Then his phone rings.

He digs his phone out of his pocket. "Hola," he greets, already a bit tipsy.

"…Mr. Deaux?"

Immediately Blaine knows who is on the other end of the phone – speaking of the Devil – Reaching him on his personal cellphone, but calling him by his alias. The corner of his mouth lifts into a smile, "Miss Charles."

"Please, Peyton. Uh, I hope it's not too late to call."

Blaine snaps his fingers. That's the name. "Ah, Peyton." He says her name slowly and deliberately, and decides he likes the feeling of her name on his tongue. "How can I help you?"

"Just wondering if you want to grab a drink." Her tone is light, but Blaine can hear the slight quiver in her voice.

He turns his head to look at his dining table. "I have a better idea."

X X X

Blaine opens his door to the district attorney. He has never seen her in anything other than her work clothes, but tonight she is just wearing a casual white top and a black skirt. "Welcome," he moves back to let her in.

Peyton raises an eyebrow when she sees all the food on the table. "Either you're having a solo party or you've had a really rough day."

Blaine smiles and tilts his head into a slight nod. "Rough day," he admits. "Please, take a seat and save me some calories."

Peyton takes the chair opposite him as he pours her a glass of wine. "I thought only women comfort eat."

Blaine laughs. "I'm sorry for proving you wrong." He holds up his glass and the brunette clinks it with her own.

Peyton takes two large sips of wine, and lets out a heavy sigh. The wine warms her body and calms her nerves. "Hmm. This is good." She takes another big sip.

"Are you alright?" Blaine brings a piece of salmon sashimi into his mouth – savouring the freshness of the raw fish and the burn of the wasabi – while eyeing her intently, expecting the topic of Mr. Boss to come up.

"Yeah," Peyton says and helps herself with a piece of lamb. She musters a smile. "So, tell me about your bad day."

"Then you'd tell me about yours?" He quirks an eyebrow.

She half-rolls her eyes. "Sure."

Blaine licks his lips thoughtfully. His bad day involves killing his grandfather, his father vanishing, zombies being offed and the probability of turning back into a zombie. "Let's just say I got another lesson of 'everything comes at a price'."

"Very vague," Peyton comments, a half-smile forming at her lips, "but sure."

Blaine grins and takes a bite of his quesadilla. The juicy chicken is to die for. "How about your bad day?"

The smile on her face dies down a little. "Saw Mr. Boss at the station today," Blaine looks up instantly, and Peyton continues with a mock frown, "let's just say he's not my favourite person on planet earth."

Blaine purses his lips, amused. "I'm assuming he wasn't arrested. No such luck."

"Apparently he made crates of 50 caliber rifles disappear," she sighs with frustration, "the guy's untouchable. And the way he looked at me at the station," she grimaces, "gave me the heebie-jeebies."

They both chuckle at the expression.

"No one's that untouchable. You'll get him," Blaine encourages lightly. She has to. She will get Stacey Boss, for him.

With his help, Boss is coming down. It's just a matter of time.

They clink glasses again. They slowly work on the food, refilling their glasses several times along the way. The fruity yet bitter flavour spreads across their taste buds and makes their mouths dry.

Peyton thinks about the threat lurking behind Boss's practiced smile, and about how even super-powered Liv couldn't bring him down. "Have you ever thought that some evil could be so powerful that even…superheroes can't take them down?"

She tilts her head, eyes looking to the side and thinking how ridiculous that sounds. She has had a bit too much to drink.

Blaine looks at Peyton's face of self-doubt and brooding. She needs encouragement. He places his hand on top of hers. "It won't take superheroes to take Boss down. Just you and me will be enough."

He can be charming when the time calls for it. And now, the time calls for it.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

Is it his words, his voice, his touch, or is it the wine, the music, the atmosphere? Peyton feels reassured. And suddenly warm, very warm.

She hooks a finger around his finger. "I'm glad I came here. It feels…" She looks around his place, the graceful design and soft lighting that make her feel at ease. It feels like Boss can never touch her while she is here. "Safe."

That's funny. Many women have said many things about him, but safe?

Blaine reaches a hand out to caress her face, then he leans over the table to capture her lips.

.

It is an explosion of sensations, and he needs this tonight.

He carries her into his bedroom, with her toned legs wrapped around his waist and her plump lips against his mouth. The feeling of blood rushing to his lower body is exhilarating.

Blaine lays her down onto the bed and tastes the skin on her neck, his kisses urgent. Her hair smells divine, and he prays the "regression" does not happen until he is through with her. He has no wish to crack that beautiful head open.

They strip each other out of their clothes, and Blaine relishes in the fact that he could be as rough as he wants without turning anyone into a zombie.

He plants kisses all over her body, reveling in every inch of softness. He leaves bite marks along her waist, on her flat stomach, the curve of her breast, on her shoulder, her chest. Peyton gasps and moans, pleasantly surprised, but does not object. When Blaine takes a nipple in his mouth, she arches her back and brings his hand up to cup her other breast, urging him to do more to her.

His heart hammers faster as his excitement grows – another sensation that he will savour. Peyton's ample breasts in his hands, in his face; her soft body underneath him. When he finally parts her legs and enters her, he thinks he sees heaven.

He begins to pound into her, not waiting any longer and stretching her to the fullest. Peyton squeals in delight and pulls him down to kiss his mouth, licking and biting. Then she rolls their bodies over and starts riding him.

"God," he breathes. Peyton's hands push against his chest, where his heart is violently pumping blood. Her hips move up and down his cock, her face is a bright pink and she is smiling wildly down at him.

He is ecstatic to be human.

He grips her waist, pushing her down while thrusting his hips up. He is going to leave bruises on her, but neither of them care. Her sweet moans are erratic; her breasts bounce wonderfully before him, tempting him to feel them.

He moves his hands to cup her breasts, playing with them with his fingers, and her reaction is lovely. Her body shudders, her hips jerk involuntarily and her tight walls squeeze him.

He groans and pants. She'll be his undoing.

Blaine fondles her sweaty skin, and eventually finds her clit. He brushes his thumb across the sweet bud, and Peyton whimpers, pushing her hips up and down more violently.

"Yes, baby, keep riding me like that," he growls breathlessly, moving his own hips and thrusting as hard as he can.

His thumb brushes against her unrelentingly, and suddenly a spasm racks her body. Her hands grip his shoulders tight, her nails break his skin as she lets out short, uncontrollable moans that sound like music to his ears. Her muscles convulse rapidly around him and he groans helplessly within his throat as he finds his release.

Peyton collapses on top of him, and he wraps his arm around her, both of them out of breath.

"You…feel like…heaven," he says truthfully.

Peyton chuckles. "Thanks."

Blaine takes a long, deep breath, coming down from the adrenaline rush. He turns his head to look into the mirror. Eyes still grey…for how much longer?

He brushes Peyton's curly locks away from her face and kisses her head, then he whispers, his voice husky and seductive, "Join me in the shower."

-End-

Author's notes:

I don't know why I wrote this. I mean, I've always thought I ship Blaine and Liv!

Merry Christmas!