"It's raining,"
"That it is," Lily confirmed, sitting up and watching her boyfriend stare out the window.
"I really am sorry."
"I don't doubt it." Lily sighed. "But James, you can't control the weather."
He snorts indelicately, still not looking at her. "I was just outside yesterday and I didn't feel anything like rain and I was so sure it was going to be fine-"
"James," she says again, insistently, "I don't care if your animagus is a bloody rain cloud, you can't control the weather."
This time he looks at her, and she gets an uncomfortable pang in her chest at the look he's giving her. Like he genuinely believes it is his fault that on their six month anniversary it just so happens to be raining—pouring like a banshee, really—and he can't take her out like he wanted.
"It was finally going to work. We were finally going to go on a date, and no one was going to spill any butterbeer, and no one was going to get tackled—"
"Not until later, I should hope."
A smirk tugged insistently at the corner of his mouth. "Not until later," he amended, "but this bloody weather ruins any and all plans I had to sweep you off your feet!" He lamented, groaning in annoyance.
Lily couldn't help herself; she smirked as well. "There are much better sounds you could be making, you know."
At this point, it was extremely difficult not to smirk at her. He couldn't manage to maintain the upset expression. "I can't."
Lily huffed. "Of course you can. You just won't because you have the sniffles—"
"I could have dragon pox! You know I just saw my parents over the weekend; what if I've contracted it and you get sick too?"
His concern was touching, really. Most of the time she loved him all the more for it. But now was not one of those times. "James," Lily moaned, "if I need to explain to you why it's okay and why I don't give a shit that you may or may not have contracted a frankly harmless disease for persons under the age of one hundred—"
"Explain it to me, then," he demanded shortly, cutting across her.
She gave him a look, one that plainly told him what a stupid prick he was. "You really want me to?"
He nodded.
Lily appeared to be thoroughly unamused, but she told him anyway, taking care to enunciate very slowly. "I'm ovulating, James. Since I take it you don't know very much about the female reproductive system, that means my body is ready to have children this time of the month. But fear not, I have no plans to bear your bastard child at eighteen. And besides that, I'm on the potion and the pill. If you've never seen me take either of them, love, we really need to have a chat about your eyes. But, in plain, simple terms, James, it means my hormones are absolutely dreadful and I want little more than for you to fuck me until I scream.
"And, really," she continued, though now her words had caught up with her and she was blushing, "if you are that adamant about not touching me, I'm going to touch myself and you're going to have to watch."
As if to prove her point, Lily unzipped her skirt and kicked it down her legs. Before she could so much as touch her panties, though, James' hand stopped hers.
"You are going to kill me." He said very seriously.
Lily shrugged. "I honestly don't care right now."
James' eyes, which had previously been meeting hers, traveled down the expanse of her body (most of which was still clothed, to his disappointment) and rested at her center. He took a practiced hand and ran it over her, just barely touching her through the fabric with one finger, and Lily screamed.
"Fuck," he choked, slipping that same hand inside so he could really touch her. He inserted one finger inside her, and pretty soon she was ready for two.
Meanwhile, Lily's head was thrown back onto his pillows, moaning as she pleased whenever he did something she particularly liked. Climbing on top of her, he used his free hand to divest her lower half of clothing completely.
"James," she whimpered, fisting his bedsheets.
He grunted in response, inserting a third finger.
She screamed again in pleasure, bucking against his hand.
His thumb began to pay special attention to her clitoris, rubbing at it insistently even as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. Without warning, his pinky finger joined the fray, and his entire hand had disappeared inside his girlfriend's vagina. He pumped, twisted, swirled, and not after too much longer her walls were clamping down on him, and this time she really did scream.
Inhibitionless, she came. "Oh, god, James!" She rode out her orgasm on his hand, convulsed through the aftershocks of pleasure, and then lay very still. He removed his hand, and she whimpered, feeling the loss inside her.
He got his wand and waved it, the mess disappearing from both his duvet and his hand and took a moment to stare at her. And she was absolutely beautiful.
Her skin was flushed, she smelled like sex, she was positively limp after reaching what was apparently a powerful climax, and he could see her nipples pushing through the fabric of her shirt and bra. What was odd was her lips weren't swollen at all. In fact, he was having trouble remembering the last time he'd kissed her long and hard enough to make her lips swollen. It had been days. And even longer than that since they'd last made love. He could understand where she was coming from.
After seeing that, seeing her come undone so completely under his fingers, he had his own situation to deal with. But he was sick and he hadn't even kissed her and it had been purely about getting her off and he wasn't sure he was allowed to make himself feel better after that. But fuck, it was painful. His cock was straining very noticeably against his trousers, aching to be inside her.
He groaned low in his throat, a pathetic sort of sound, and laid next to her on his bed. He suffered in agony for a few moments until Lily opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was his tent.
She looked at him, a brow raised.
He met her gaze and shrugged, full of discomfort.
She shook her head. "I swear, James Potter, you cannot be that sick."
He sniffed pointedly.
Lily rolled her eyes. "For Merlin's sake—"
"Lily," he started, eyes widening when she moved to unhook his pants. "Lily," he said again, hissing when his trousers were off his legs and his cock had more room, trying to warn her. "Lily, st-stop—"
She looked at him incredulously. "You're not sick." She told him, ignoring his protests as she slipped his pants down his legs, as well.
He sprung to attention, and she couldn't help but smirk. Knowing that she did this to James was very erotic, but seeing what she did to him was something different entirely, second only to feeling what she did to him, and the sense of power that flowed through her turned her on all over again.
"Lily," he moaned, unable to look away from her face.
"Shhh," she shushed him and bent her neck, blowing lightly on his member.
It twitched, straining, and he hissed.
Lily smirked, and, without warning, took him into her mouth. She sucked, licking the tip, and hummed. The vibrations made James cry out again, and Lily would've smirked again had she been able. She sucked harder, running her tongue all over his cock. She took a deep breath through her nose and took him in as far as she could, while still continuing her ministrations.
James was rapidly coming undone, breathing heavily and groaning periodically. "Lily," he gasped, fighting to stay in control.
Lily, not liking that James still had the presence of mind to stay in control, took a free hand and grasped the base of his cock firmly and started to stroke him. Lily got her wish.
"Lily!" he shouted, fighting every instinct that told him to buck.
This time she really did smirk. Even in his blurry haze of pleasure, James felt her lips lift. All he did, however, all he was capable of doing, was moaning loudly.
In a few more seconds, he coiled like a spring and let loose, spilling inside her. He collapsed onto his pillow this time, and Lily reflexively swallowed. She took a moment to breathe, gazing at what her handiwork had done. His hair was in complete and utter disarray, his face was flushed, and his mouth was open just a little. Apparently, he hadn't the energy left to close it.
Satisfied, she crawled up his body and nestled into the crook of his arm, laying her head on his chest.
He smiled, wrapping an arm around her, and tugged her closer. Together, they sighed contentedly, naked from the waist down. It was fine for the moment until Lily began to unbutton his shirt. He groaned teasingly. "Already?"
Instead of responding, she took it off completely, tugging it insistently until it came off his torso. Now bare, Lily rested her head on his chest again, blissfully happy to listen to his heartbeat and feel his warmth radiate into her very being.
He smiled down at her, though she could not see, and went to work on unbuttoning her shirt. It wasn't coming, though, and, since Lily didn't appear to want to move, he murmured, "Evanesco." To his surprise, her shirt vanished completely. He grinned and unhooked her bra, pulling each strap down her shoulders, and tugged it out through the little gap where their bodies weren't touching.
"You git," she said, though her voice lacked any real venom, "that was my favorite shirt."
"You have ten more like it." He mumbled in response, content now that her bare skin was against his.
"Yes, but it was my favorite."
"What's so special about it?"
Lily smiled against his skin. "It was the first shirt you managed to take off."
James smiled, too, "There'll be many more I take off."
"I don't doubt it."