gorysortofstory | Mistletoe Shenanigans Open Post

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!open post

Mistletoe Shenanigans Open Post

Suddenly there's mistletoe above you! And someone is stuck under you! And neither one of you can move until you kiss! Shenanigans abound, basically.

I'll be throwing in my muses so feel free to tag them, or leave blank comments with people you want to play and I will give them people! There are no rules here, only fun and silly holiday kissing.

Enjoy!!!

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It's been exactly two and a half hours since they both stubbornly decided they'd rather wait for Christmas to be over before ever locking lips again. What's one Christmas day down the drain when they've got an eternity to live? Damon's not even a little bothered. After all, who's he got to exchange presents with? Who's he got to go home to? No one.

Leaning against the bar counter, Damon flips through a magazine and attempts to ignore the blonde standing next to him. The annoying green plant is hanging directly above them, but guess who's pretending it's not even there?

Five minutes passes by and then another before he decides he's had enough of reading Cosmopolitan. 15 best sex positions? Come on. He can think of at least a hundred more.

"Best get hold of a bucket before closing time in case you're going to need to take a tinkle later."

As far as sucky situations go, this is pretty up there. She could be spending her time better like Christmas shopping (ie compelling shop owners to give her new clothes for Christmas). It's not like she and her brothers really celebrate the holidays anyway (what do you get for the hybrid who has everything?) but that doesn't mean she wants to spend it under a plant with Damon either.

But she doesn't want to kiss him anymore than he wants to kiss her so she's currently nursing the whiskey she got one of the waiters to bring over for her.

She rolls her eyes a little at that, scoffing. "Somehow, I think I'll manage to hold it."

She is so not peeing in front of him.

This must be what compulsion feels like, were one able to consciously recognize that they were being compelled. Quinn knows she's been compelled before, Rebekah having admitted that much to her some time after she made the decision to follow her Original best friend back to her world instead of heading home to her own once they found a way out of MarinaNova. She's since been wearing a vervain locket and drinking vervain tea every morning to prevent repeat occurrences, so having been compelled by vampiric means to launch herself towards the unsuspecting vampire is ruled out.

Something else is doing this.

Whatever it is, Quinn now has the fingers of both hands curled around the collar of Rebekah's jacket, and her lips firmly pressed against the vampire's.

Rebekah can't be compelled.

It's one of the many perks of being an Original. They can compel other vampires but no one can compel them. So this isn't something she's ever actually experienced before -- this complete lack of control over her own actions. It'd take powerful magic to manage something like this -- and why they would waste that sort of magic on something like this she doesn't know.

There's a lot about this situation she doesn't know.

What she does know is that her hands are cupping the other girl's face gently, her lips parting as she continues kissing her very human best friend.

Neither of them can be compelled, which would make this situation all the more alarming, were Quinn concerned with anything beyond the feel of Rebekah's lips against her own. This isn't the first time she's kissed a girl. Ironically, that kiss was given to another (former) best friend of hers that Quinn left behind when she made the decision to live in Rebekah's version of the world. Santana didn't exist here, and kissing that friend hadn't held the same sort of spark that kissing Rebekah does. She'd enjoyed the experience — both the kissing and the sex — but somehow, this is better. Whether it's because of whatever's controlling them or something the ex-cheerleader's yet to analyze, she doesn't know.

Right now, she doesn't care.

Quinn releases the collar, wrapping her arms around Rebekah's neck.

It's definitely something to be concerned about, the fact that they can't be compelled -- but Rebekah's not really focused on that at the moment. This is far from the first time she's kissed another girl -- she's lived a long time, that doesn't come without some experimentation. But this feels different than curiosity or mild attraction. It's something stronger, almost electric. Perhaps it's because Quinn's the first girl she's allowed herself to truly get close to in a long, long time (always traveling with her brothers didn't leave a long time for a lot of girlfriends). It could be a lot of things. But she doesn't care about the reasons at the moment -- what she cares about it how good it feels and how even though she doesn't know exactly how this started?

She doesn't want it to end.

Which is why she steps in closer to Quinn now, letting one of her hands slip from her cheek up to her hair, tangling itself there.

But it does end, as the sound of a car speeding past the house jolts Quinn out of whatever spell had a hold of her. She breaks away from the kiss, leaning back just enough to avoid another peck of Rebekah's lips, still caught up in the other girls limbs — not that her hands are free of guilt, still draped about Rebekah's neck.

"What the hell just happened?"

"I don't know."

Which is disconcerting -- to say the least. Rebekah doesn't like to feel like she isn't in control of her actions -- but she can't say she completely minded either. As evidenced by the way she hasn't tried to untangle herself from the other girl yet.

Finally, after a moment, Quinn steps back and drops her arms, fiddling awkwardly with the hem of her dress just to give her restless hands something to do.

"That wasn't— I mean, it couldn't have been compulsion. You can't compel anyone who's on vervain, right?"

"I can't. And I certainly can't be compelled."

So whatever had done this had the power to sway an Original, it isn't comforting, to say the least.

"Then what—"

She begins to ask, but her eyes catch sign of the offending plant dangling from the ceiling above them. It couldn't have... Could it?

Rebekah allows her eyes to follow Quinn's, looking above them.

"There much be a witch around -- someone must of enchanted it."

"I thought Originals were immune to magic."

Or so she let herself believe. The topic of magic had never really been addressed whenever they would get into talking about the various vampiric perks Rebekah possessed. She just assumed that being unaffected by magic was one of them.

"Not at all. I wish."

Magic's been a pain in her ass on more than one occasion. "Though our mother was a witch it didn't leave us with any sort of immunity -- our lives would be much easier if it had."

"Hold on," Quinn holds up her hands. Both pieces of information are news to her, contradicting her assumptions. "Your mother was a witch. Wouldn't that make you, if you hadn't been turned, one too?"

Rebekah nods her head a little. "I would of been, most likely. I was turned before I really learned how to access my powers."

"Do you think if you found a way to become human, that you'd be a witch again? Or is there something about being a vampire for so long that would sort of void any of that potential?"

She doesn't mean to pry, but she's curious. It's a part of her best friend's history that she wasn't previously aware of.