Louis put his wand away and opened the door. "Didn't I just get rid of you?"
"When are you ever really rid of me?" came Jack's voice, causing Dominique to sit up with a jolt. He came into view a moment later still bundled up from the cold with a jacket and a knit cap on his head. He was smiling and had a very bouncy energy about him as he pulled his hat off, not realizing she was standing nearby. "Is it just you here? Where's Nic?"
Louis pointed to her and had just begun to say, "She's—" but Jack cut him off as soon as he saw her.
"How about those Bats?!"
She laughed into her water.
"Can you believe it!?" he practically yelled, grinning from ear to ear as he immediately stepped toward her. "You should have seen me at the end. My folks had people over—some neighbors—and I was listening through this little handheld radio with headphones. I yelled so loud when the Snitch got caught that I'm fairly convinced they now all think I'm off my head." He shrugged. "Though, they may already have thought that since I was always the weird one who made shit happen that no one could explain."
She grinned at him. He was talking very fast. It was something she'd noticed over the summer that he did after a couple of drinks.
"But it's not as if I could explain myself. My parents would understand, but the rest of them…" He trailed off, still smiling as if he'd personally won the bloody match himself. "I had to talk to someone. By someone, I mean you." He took a breath and cracked a smile. "Hi, by the way."
"Hi," she said. "We were wondering if you'd managed to listen. Lou said he wasn't sure if you went full-Muggle or—"
He made a face. "Full-Muggle or not, I wasn't missing this. You know me better than that."
"I do, but I know wizard you. Not Muggle you."
"Muggle me is becoming harder and harder to find these days," he said as he started to take off his jacket and turn onto Louis. "What are you two even doing?" He paused as if stopping to listen for something. "What the fuck is that noise?"
"New band I'm checking out," Louis said. "They're called Vraa."
Jack blinked at him before mumbling a highly uninterested, "Alright, then." He tossed his jacket aside and turned back to Dominique. "What are you up to?"
"Currently avoiding the sounds of Vraa." She shrugged. "We're also— rather pathetically— spending our evening playing Witch's Wordplay."
Jack was now looking at her with an expression that said he had no idea what that was. She set her glass down and led him straight into the living room—stopping first to turn Louis' music down—before showing him the game that sat on the floor. He stared at it for a moment, seemingly examining it very thoroughly, before saying, "It's Scrabble."
"What?" Dominique looked over at Louis, who shrugged as if he had no idea what that meant either.
"It's Scrabble," Jack repeated, looking back at her. "You're playing Scrabble."
"No, we're playing Witch's Wordplay."
"Ok, whatever it's called," he said, glancing between the pair of them, "you two are spending New Year's Eve playing it. Seems a bit dull."
"Mate, we've just had a few long nights without much sleep," Louis said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Shit, I've had some long weeks. I was actually looking for a quiet night. Where'd you get the bloody energy to be out, let alone half in the bag?"
"I took a nap," he said as if it were obvious. "I had plans to listen to the match and then go out with some cousins, but then the match got good and I had a few drinks because—" He made a gesture with his arms to say, "why not?" "And then I wanted to talk about it, so here I am." He looked at Dominique. "You understand."
She nodded a little to say she did, and while she was obviously impressed by the win from a Quidditch standpoint, she wasn't over the moon about it like a true fan would be. If he'd been looking for a party and a celebration to match his excitement, he'd gone looking in the wrong place. He probably would have had more luck going to Ballycastle and wandering the streets. That being said, she could appreciate it. She could talk about it. And if it meant he'd hang out for a bit so she could spend some time with him, she could easily put in the effort.
"Well, I wish I was half as awake as you are," Louis said as he leaned over and turned his music back up. "But I didn't get to nap since I came home to a house full of family and a dinner I had to sit through, so—" He made a face as if to say that if Jack had plans, to count him out.
"You've gotten soft," Jack said to him before his face screwed up into annoyance now that the music was loud. "Mate, this shit you're listening to sounds like dying cats in a blender."
"I don't know what a blender is," he said, reaching out to turn the music up even louder, "but I assume it makes amazing music like these blokes do."
"This isn't music," Jack shouted over the noise, "this is metal scraps being dragged on the pavement while some bloke yodels with his mouth full of glass."
"That's actually the title of their album."
He got a laugh out of everyone at that, though Dominique stepped forward and immediately pulled his record off. Louis booed her as she flung it like a discus toward the sofa.
"No," she said.
"You know, you can both piss right off," Louis muttered, already turning to walk off toward the kitchen. Over his shoulder he called back, "Jack, how long are you staying?"
"I dunno," he called back as he sat on the sofa, watching her as she settled back down on the floor in front of her board game. "For a bit, I guess." He lowered his voice. "Unless you're looking to get rid of me so you can get back to your game night."
"I'm not," she said, glancing up at him and catching his eye. He smiled at her and it was almost amusing how different his demeanor became once Louis was out of the room. There was a casual, goofiness he'd had with Louis, but it was absent when she and he were together. He seemed to be immediately refocusing his energy and toning himself down.
"Have a good holiday?" he asked her, scooting over a bit on the sofa toward her.
"Yeah, it was fine," she said rather bluntly as she went back to sorting through the game tiles. "Not as eventful as yours, apparently."
"The last few days have been…" He was rubbing his face. "I still don't quite understand how it happened. One minute we're sitting around my house talking about walking to get some pizza and the next we're in a van driving down the coast."
"Louis was saying something like that," she said, absently studying each tile that she pulled out of the bag. "Lots of sex, drugs, and music."
She'd glanced over at him, noticing that his face dropped right off. "I didn't…Who had sex? I definitely didn't. And he didn't. Between the breakup and him being hung up on that girl from the tournament, he couldn't be bothered. I wasn't interested." His face suddenly screwed itself up into confusion. "What did he tell you happened?"
She smirked. "I'm just taking the piss," she said, just as her brother shouted from the kitchen, "Nic, will you eat some of this macaroni stuff if I warm it up?"
"No, I'm not hungry," she called back, her eyes returning to Jack. She let herself muster a pinched smile. "Well, anyway. I'm glad you and Louis had a good time. Really. I am."
Her tone hadn't been the least bit convincing, not that she's tried at all to make it that way. The truth was, while she understood her brother just wanted some time with his friend and they'd got caught up in some wild adventure, she'd felt completely left out. There was no one she was closer to than her brother, and then Jack was—well, he was so many different things to her right now—but they were close as well. They were both probably the two closest people to her at the moment and they'd gone and left her in the dust because she lacked a penis. And she didn't want a penis, she just hated that it was apparently a deciding factor. They could have gone and been dumb boys for a day and then resurfaced. Had they really needed days? Had they really needed to blow her off the entire time?
Jack took a deep breath. "I wanted to see you. Louis was stuck on the whole lads' thing. And it'd been a while since I'd done anything like that with him or got to spend time with my brother." He shrugged. "Everyone's so busy."
She looked away. "I get it. Doesn't mean it didn't suck that the only two people that were even around for the holidays went off with each other and I—"
"I know," Jack interrupted. "I'm sorry."
"And it's Louis' fucking fault Sarah's didn't come home," she muttered in a low whisper, finally getting to say the words out loud to someone who would actually understand where she was coming from. "He's the one who fucked up, but yet Sarah's left to wallow at school, I'm left here bored out of my mind, and you—well, you made out alright, didn't you?"
He didn't say anything to that. He just continued to stare at her in a sympathetic sort of way.
"And yeah, obviously Louis being around makes my life easier since we keep each other entertained, but—" she hesitated for only a brief moment, but she was on a roll so there was no reason to hold back. She might as well tell him she was disappointed she hadn't gotten to see him until tonight. "I'd also hoped I'd get to—"
She stopped once Louis reappeared with a large plate full of food in one hand and three empty glasses that he was pinching between his fingers in the other. After all that meal skipping, he'd apparently gotten his appetite back with a vengeance.
"I left everything out if you change your mind on the food," he said, walking straight over to Jack and stopping in front of him. He motioned for him to take the glasses. "Hold."
He took them and they both watched as Louis set his plate down on the sofa before crossing the room and going straight into the cupboard where their parents kept all of their wine and alcohol. He was busying himself for a moment before he pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey, read the label, and then proceeded to walk back over to Jack. He gestured for the glasses back.
"You think dad's not going to notice you're drinking his stuff?" Dominique asked.
"I don't care, I'll buy him more," he said absently, examining the shot he'd poured into the glass before handing it off to her. "Ladies first."
She took it, though she wasn't particularly in the mood to drink. It was easier to sip it and hold it rather than tell Louis otherwise. Especially if he'd already had it in his head that this was what was going to happen.
"I feel like I've already had enough," Jack said as Louis handed him the second glass. "I was drinking before I came over."
"I could tell," Louis again said as he poured a shot into the third glass. "But why stop now? Celebrate your little Quidditch win—"
"It was not little."
"—and ring in the New Year," Louis said, holding up his glass as if to toast. "Cheers."
Despite his weak protest, Jack didn't seem to need a lot of convincing as he and Louis both went to drink theirs down in quick gulps. Dominique watched them both with a raised eyebrow, though she focused on her brother. "It's hours from the new year. Why are we toasting the New Year already?"
"Because why not?" he said as he refilled his and Jack's glasses before he wandered over to where he'd set down his plate of food. "What else do you want to toast to? By the way, it's rude to not drink when someone makes a toast."
"I think the new year will forgive me for my rudeness," she said dryly, "But weren't you taking it easy tonight? You said you were going to bed early and not drinking?"
He shrugged. "Changed my mind. Jack's a bad influence."
Jack made a face as if to say he hadn't suggested a bloody thing and not to put this on him, but this was typical of the two of them when they got together. They'd been like this since they were eleven. Always throwing the other under the bus for a laugh and trying to blame any and all of their bad habits on each other. It was a tale as old as time when it came to their friendship.
They eventually got back onto the subject of Quidditch, and Jack began giving her a detailed recap of the match between Ballycastle and Puddlemere from the point where she had stopped listening. It was actually amazing to listen to him recall the details in a way that only someone who cared too much could do; it made her feel at times that she was actually listening to the play by play of everything that had happened. He seemed to remember everything—though he did focus a lot on the Beaters' actions more than a regular recap would. She'd regretted turning the match off once she thought Puddlemere had the game won because it sounded as if she really should have listened all the way through.
At one point, as Jack was talking about the Snitch catch and arguably the best part, Dominique glanced over and saw that Louis had put his head back and drifted off to sleep; he was still even holding his half full glass of Firewhiskey. It seemed the exhaustion of the last few days, the alcohol, and him probably being bored with the Quidditch talk had hit him hard in the last few minutes.
Jack had looked, too, now smirking. He immediately got up, plucked up a few uneaten grapes that Louis had left on his plate, and then proceeded to start lobbing him in the face with them. It had taken him three to cause Louis to finally stir.
"What the…?" he muttered, blinking and in a half awake daze. He noticed a grape having landed on his shirt, which immediately caused him to throw Jack a look. "You're a git." He tossed the grape back at him.
"Usually the first person to fall asleep gets it much worse," Jack offered. "You know the rules."
Louis stood, shaking another grape off as he did as he collected his glass and plate and headed toward the kitchen. "I do. But I can't help that you're both so bloody boring when you get this in depth into Quidditch."
"You were playing Scrabble on New Years Eve and you're going to call someone else boring?" Jack called after him. "Seriously?"
"Witch's Wordplay!" Louis shouted back, his voice carrying from where he'd already disappeared into the kitchen.
They both smirked at that, though she couldn't help but add, "I guess I'm extra boring because I'm into Wordplay and Quidditch."
"You're not boring," Jack said. "No, we're blaming Louis for everything right now. It's all Louis' fault."
She laughed, watching as Louis reappeared in the room and walked straight over to the sofa. He picked up his record that Dominique had tossed there earlier and threw them both a look as if to say he was off to enjoy this on his own. "I'm going to listen to my music and go to bed."
"Next time save your money," Dominique offered. "If you're into obnoxious noise, I would have been happy to bang shit upside your head for free."
"Oh, if I'm looking for obnoxious noise, I know where to find you," he quipped back, adding a quick, "And a happy new year," before heading toward the stairs.
"What happened to the Nymph Chasers?" Jack asked, taking his glass and sliding off of the sofa to sit opposite of her on the other side of the board game.
"I think it's because it reminds him of Sarah," she said, watching as he sat where Louis had been earlier and was now picking through the letter tiles he'd left behind.
He nodded sympathetically as if he suddenly understood, just as the sounds of Vraa now drifted down from the second story. They both looked at each other, but she couldn't help but think that at least it was muffled this time. She reached over to the radio and flipped it on and fumbled with the dial for a few seconds until she found some actual music.
She couldn't help but now be acutely aware that it was just the two of them. Up until that moment, she hadn't realized how strange it was for the two of them to be alone together in her house, seeing as it had never happened before. Louis being present was the norm around here; their common connection. He was why Jack ever came over or spent any time here. She and him could be alone at Quidditch or the common room; but under this roof it was completely uncharted territory.
Jack was putting letters down on the board to spell out random words just because he could. Car. Pie. Bum. Wand. Wand suddenly lit up red, which gave him a start. He was blinking at the board as if he'd done something wrong before he looked up at her a little mystified.
"If you play a magical word, it glows and you get extra points," she said, taking some random tiles and suddenly spelling out 'Doxy', just as Louis had before. It glowed purple and Jack actually gaped. "You can play any word, but the magical ones are considered the Witch's words. It's why it's called Witch's Wordplay."
"This isn't Scrabble."
"Does Scrabble not glow?" she asked as she sipped on her drink.
"It does not," he said with a laugh as he went through the bag of letters and started pulling them out to spell any magical word he could think of. Charm. Hex. Floo. Spell. Snitch. Broom. He seemed rather amused to watch them all light up.
"We could play an actual game if you want," she offered after watching him for a few minutes.
"After the last few drinks, I feel like I'd be pretty rubbish at that right now," he said as he began putting tiles down to spell the word 'tits'. It made him laugh in a very adolescent boy sort of way. "It didn't glow."
"It's not a magical word."
"Says you."
She rolled her eyes, but still smiled at him. Even when he'd had one too many drinks and was making stupid jokes that only he in his half drunk state would find funny, she found herself completely taken with him. She actually rather enjoyed him after a few drinks because he tended to be looser and more talkative. It was a nice change of pace from his usual buttoned up, quieter persona. Granted, if he drank anymore, he would end up full circle and shut himself up tight like a vault, but this was the sweet spot where she found him particularly adorable.
He looked up and caught her staring. And it hadn't been just a casual glance, she'd been staring at him while smiling in a goofy sort of way. She hadn't had time to straighten herself out before he'd noticed, but she immediately looked away and gulped down her drink.
"Are you still planning on going out tonight?" she asked, standing to go and get herself another drink, more for something to do rather than wanting it.
"Uh," he said, still aimlessly searching through the letters. "I don't think I should be Apparating anywhere right now, if I'm honest."
"You should stay, then," she said after she'd set the bottle back and returned to her spot. "You know you can. And it's better to be safe than sorry."
"Yeah, maybe." He watched her as she settled back down. "I don't want to keep you up or anything."
She laughed. "This," she gestured to the game, "is the most eventful night I've had since I've been home. And I wish I was kidding."
He smiled at her in the sweet but reserved sort of way which he was still apparently good at even if he was a little drunk. "I spent a lot of time thinking about you."
"Did you?" she asked as her heart gave a quick start. She took a drink out of reflex.
He was nodding but still looking at tiles. "I came over tonight because I wanted to see you. And not just because of the Ballycastle thing, which, that was part of it. But I think that's the point. I can talk to you about that and everything else. You're the first person I wanted to see." He took a deep breath. "So, I came over."
"I'm glad you did," she said quietly, staring at the brown liquid in her glass.
"Are you?" he asked as he set the bag of tiles down.
She looked at him and noticed he was watching her face very intently. She knew what he was asking. That was a very weighted question. They were so very clearly in this strange gray area between friendship and more that it was hard to really tell where they stood. She knew he was attempting to feel her out for where her head was.
She nodded. "Yeah. I wanted to see you."
He nodded and looked back down at the board. That answer apparently hadn't sold him on anything, but he evidently wasn't going to question it. Her answer had clearly been vague enough to go either way, and she knew it as soon as she'd said it. Maybe she'd even done it on purpose so as to not expose too much. She had no idea why she was holding back now. That kiss in his room had not been subtle. Why couldn't she actually say it? Spit it out.
She suddenly gulped down the rest of her second drink and reached forward for the bag of letter tiles. She began purposefully searching through them for specific letters. Jack had turned to fiddle with the radio nearby, stopping on an uptempo song that she'd never heard before.
She found the last of the letters she'd been looking for and began putting them on the board. She never wanted to hear anyone say she didn't make grand gestures or that she wasn't capable of such a thing. This was about as grand as she was capable of.
"I haven't heard this song in ages," Jack said as he turned back to watch what she was doing.
She pulled the board closer to her and threw him a look as if to say not to look. "Not yet."
"Why are you hiding it?" he asked, laughing as he attempted to peek.
She shielded it before finally finishing up and, with a heavy breath, immediately sat back. She looked up and realized it was upside down to him so she flipped it around so he could read it. There it was. She may not be able to say it, but she could write it. Now, she just held her breath.
Before him—written as one long word, since the board was still littered with all of his random words from earlier—she'd written 'Ifancyu.' She was suddenly terrified because she watched him read it. She could see him doing it right in front of her and there was no taking that back. No 'just kidding', nothing but laying everything out on that bloody board for him to read.
But he wasn't saying anything. In fact, he looked confused.
She took a heavy breath again. Fuck. With each passing second she was regretting this decision more and more. She should have stayed quiet. She should have just let it go. She easily could have probably taken her feelings to the grave if she'd just tried. After graduation, she'd probably barely see him again anyway. It would have eventually passed. Why didn't she just wait it out?
"What's a 'cyu'?" he finally asked.
"What's a...what?"
"A 'cyu,'" he repeated, pointing at the board before reciting, "If an cyu. I don't get it."
She stared at him for a long moment, not entirely sure what to say to that. She looked back at the board and then back at him. "Seriously?" She reached down and pulled tiles off; separating the I and the U from the rest of the word, which she should have apparently done from the get go. "I assumed you could read."
"I can read. I just don't know what a 'cyu'' is because I don't know every wizarding—" He stopped when he saw her corrected phrase. That had done it. He'd gotten the message that time.
"Yeah," she said. "That."
When he finally did look up, he seemed surprised. He stared at her, but just briefly before he'd looked back down. He wasn't saying anything and she was starting to feel awkward at being so exposed. She might actually get up and walk out of the room if he didn't say something in the next second.
While he didn't speak, he did take a deep breath through his nose and spun the board back around to face her. He'd randomly picked up one of the Ts from the tits he'd put down earlier and plucked the Os off of Floo. He put them after the U. He'd written 'too.'
He was grinning at her, which immediately made her do the same. This was almost too corny for her to bear, but she also found herself caught up in the sweet nature of the moment. She wasn't even sure how it had come to a board game on the floor of her living room to finally let it out, but here it was. It wasn't a secret anymore. They had both caught feelings.
"Cyu," he muttered to himself, laughing as he said it. "I'm an idiot."
She grinned. "You said it, not me."
"Wait, so, at the Trials," he began. "There was this night when I said something—I can't even remember what—but you seemed upset. I then had a very drunk Erin and Zara explaining to me that it was my fault because you fancied me. Does it go that far back?"
She nodded her head.
He laughed out of disbelief. "I thought they were full of shit. But when I heard it, it got me thinking, 'what if?' and 'maybe?' because I'd have never thought you would ever…" He trailed off. "Before I knew it, I was interested, too, but you were back with Davies and it all seemed like a joke. I mean, why would you have told Erin or Zara something like that?"
"I actually told Durrin or Annabelle, one of them, and it stupidly got back to them." She made a face. "We all did weird stuff at the Trials. That place wasn't real life."
"It was not," he agreed as they let their gazes fall on each other. They shared a small smile as a quiet fell over them. He had such a kind and inviting face, especially when he smiled. She could never convey that sort of warmth in a single look—even if she were on fire.
"You couldn't ever kiss your best friend's sister," she said at random, cutting through the silence. He stared at her blankly, as if he had no idea what that was supposed to mean, so she elaborated. "That's what you said that night at the Trials. What upset me and caused Erin and Zara to run their mouths. You said before that you couldn't remember."
He was nodding slowly, evidently remembering. "Right...I did. But I didn't mean that. I mean, I did—about Victoire. Not about you."
She shrugged. "At the time, it sounded like you did."
Right then, he reached forward and slid the board game that was in between them aside, leaning quickly forward and planting his lips on hers. She could taste the leftover Firewhiskey lingering in his mouth as she eagerly kissed him back. She reached up and grabbed the side of his head to pull him closer.
"Guess I'm full of shit," he mumbled into her mouth, but she silenced him immediately. It had been a long couple of weeks and she needed this. They could talk later.
They'd just started to ramp the kissing up harder–her attempting to figure out how to maneuver them up onto the sofa–when the sounds of footsteps on the stairs made them both stop cold. Jack broke away just before Louis appeared around the corner; both of them had to have looked conspicuously red-faced.
"Hey, Nic," Louis said, apparently none the wiser to what had been happening seconds before. "Did mum move my potion? I want to sleep, but I can't find it." He looked down and saw the board game's tiles now sloppily scattered around the floor. "What happened?"
"Accident," Jack mumbled as Dominique said, "Kicked the board. Anyway, did you check the cabinet in the bathroom? I saw it there yesterday."
"Obviously. It wasn't there."
"Yes. It. Is," she said hastily. Bloody hell, could he please leave and go find what he needed?
"I'm telling you. They're not there." He looked around. "I wonder if there's any in-"
She stood then and, without a word, practically marched up the stairs. She was down the corridor and into the bathroom in the next minute, opening the cabinet and moving a few boxes and bottles around. She'd found the extra supply of his potions within seconds. Did he even look?
When she'd come back out, she found Louis standing nearby, having just come up the stairs. His face lit up when he saw what she was holding, mumbling something about how he must have somehow missed it. She glared at him as she held it out to him.
"You're the best," he said with a smile; one she did not return. He'd begun walking toward his room and offered a quick goodnight.
"You are going to sleep, right?"
He threw her an odd expression, as if that was a weird question, but said nothing as he snapped his door shut behind him. She really would have appreciated an answer to that.
She sighed. Time to refocus. Hopefully all was not lost and the mood was not killed entirely because she really wanted to continue what they'd been up to downstairs. She walked over top of the stairs, only to find that Jack had apparently come up on his own. He was on the second to top step.
"Everything alright?" he asked, glancing down at Louis' closed door. "Did you find–?"
She nodded. "Yeah, right where I said they were. He's gone to sleep."
"Oh." He glanced up and down the corridor. "That's..."
"Do you want to hang out up here?" she asked, gesturing to her room. "We could…? In there?"
"Yeah." He nodded. "Sure."
That had been easy. She smiled, now entirely too excited to get this back on track. "Great. Well, then." She made a gesture for him to go on ahead. "I'll be right there. I'm just going to…" She pointed to the bathroom.
He'd nodded, stepping toward her room while she split away and went straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she turned on the lights and caught herself in the mirror; immediately feeling that she needed to brush her hair.
She picked up the brush and began brushing her hair out. Ages. She'd been waiting ages for this opportunity and now it was happening. Fuck, he was cute. And he was a good kisser. And he felt good pressed up against her. And she was well aware of how fit he looked with his shirt off and how nice his arms were. She had to stop herself from wanting to jump up and down right there.
She'd fantasized about this and played it out a hundred different ways. While she had a moment of clarity, she needed to think about how far she'd be willing to take this. Did she set a boundary? Did she just go with the flow? Would she shag him if things went that way? She'd never been one for following conventional rules about waiting a certain amount of time or needing things to be a particular way. She did what felt good; she did what she wanted in the moment—fuck what people thought. If he wanted it too, then why not? This was Jack. He wasn't some stranger she barely knew. They were best friends. She knew him backwards and forward. And soon enough, hopefully inside and out.
She took a deep, calming breath; feeling a little buzzed from the two shots of Firewhiskey. She had to relax. See where things go, she thought. After all, Jack seemed a little more conventional and romantic; maybe he wasn't looking to do anything straight away. He and Whit went ages before they'd done anything. She could be getting ahead of herself for even thinking about this, but she couldn't help it. She knew once they got into it, she would throw all reason out the window if things felt good. It explained why she and Davies lasted as long as they did.
With one more deep breath, she walked back into her room and found Jack sitting on her bed, flipping through one of the Quidditch magazines she'd left out. He'd also taken off his shoes, which she found a little funny. His head was clearly somewhere. He looked up and immediately tossed the magazine to the side as she shut the door behind her, making sure to lock it. The clock read ten past eleven. She hoped that her parents were having a good time celebrating the New Year; that they had no intention of returning early.
The sounds of Vraa were still coming from Louis' room. Unlike earlier, she was actually happy it was loud. Their shared wall wasn't particularly thick and she'd heard plenty of noise coming through it over the years. She'd definitely heard his bed squeaking on repeat when Sarah had been over in the past.
"Hey," he said, smiling at her as she walked over. He'd reached out to grab her hand and pulled her toward him. He looked particularly handsome right now; everything about him was perfect. The way he looked at her—that look did it. It did things to her. She knew then that she'd smash him in a heartbeat if he was willing. She'd be an idiot if she didn't. She didn't want to be an idiot. Who wants to be an idiot?
"Hey," she said, returning the smile and letting herself be pulled into another kiss. The second she put her weight on the bed, it gave out a squeak that grabbed her attention fully. She pulled away from him and made a face. "So, the bed is loud," she then gestured to the wall, "and that wall is very thin."
"Oh," he said, obviously following where she was going with this. "I can, um…" He stood up and pulled out his wand. For the briefest of seconds, she was reminded of the time she'd seen Davies—or even Stuart that one time—cast a protection spell to prevent all the different things that could happen during sex. Even though Jack was casting a muffling charm, her mind had already gone there and she realized how fine she was with it. She was more than fine with it. She was already anticipating it.
She sat down to watch as he attempted it twice, having fumbled the phrasing the first go around. She made a mental note that if they did have sex, she needed to cast that spell. He smirked at her once he noticed she'd seen him screw it up the first time. "It's a tricky spell."
"Sure it is. Tell you what, I'll handle any other spells."
He sat back down beside her and was already leaning in to kiss her once more–though stopped to ask, "What other spells are we going to need?"
"Just...I don't know. Other spells," she said, meeting him the rest of the way and kissing him to silence the rest of this conversation. They picked things up exactly where they'd left off downstairs, only this time she knew–for once–they would not be interrupted. They kissed for several minutes before she finally pulled him down with her onto her bed as she lined up with her pillows.
She had her hands in his hair–it was so soft–and he had his traveling up and down her back and up into her hair as their kissing got more and more heated. Minutes or hours passed–she had no idea–but they were full on proper snogging for a good while before the privacy of her quiet room and locked doors started to make them both braver.
The kissing became more of the devouring variety and less of the sweet, playful kind. He was more aggressive than she'd have pegged him for, and she immediately wondered how much of that was due to the alcohol in his system or how much was just natural for him. He evidently enjoyed controlling the flow of things as he started kissing her neck and letting his hands roam freely now. Though, over their layers of jumpers and t-shirts, it wasn't achieving much.
"Hey," she said once he'd gone to her neck once more and freed up her mouth. "Is it true you got a tattoo?"
He hummed into his neck as if to say yes.
"Where is it?"
"On my arm."
"Can I see it?"
He sat up and was already pulling his jumper over his head an actual second after she'd asked. He had the jumper, and the shirt he'd had on underneath, tossed off to the side in record time before adding, "You can see whatever you want."
"Can I?" She smiled at him, mostly because she was more than enjoying the view as he sat in front of her.
He hummed again in a way that clearly alluded to the fact that he meant it, but she wasn't in a hurry. She could wait it out a bit as they went back to kissing once again. She started to feel herself get a very pleasant sort of achiness throughout her body as she ran her hands down his arms and back. He was pulling at the hem of her jumper and she didn't hesitate to let him pull it over her head. She wanted him to touch her and she found all of these stupid clothes incredibly cumbersome at the moment.
"So, where is it?" she asked as she escaped from her top, shaking her hair out as she tossed it to the floor. "The tattoo."
He turned the inside of his left bicep out to her and sure enough, there was a small duck about two inches around. She examined it for a moment, taking in that–while it was nice in a simple sort of way–his arms made anything look good. They were already going to be an issue for her since they were her favorite part; his just did things for her.
She could sense Jack watching her in a way as if waiting for the go ahead to continue what they'd been up to a moment before. When she finally looked back, she said, "I have questions, but I don't feel like asking them now."
"I don't feel like answering them now," he said, already moving himself back into place and putting his mouth on hers. Just in the way he kissed her, she could feel that he'd wanted this as much as she did. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. And while she'd been with people who wanted her, this was different. He didn't just want her physically, he had feelings for her. It felt different this time because it was. She'd never been with anyone who wanted everything about her; that changed everything.
Things went quickly after that. Hands were exploring and touching and rubbing. He'd kissed his way down to her shoulder and pushed her bra straps down to the point where they fell down her arm, but she'd been the one to actually pull the bloody thing off. It had been after he'd actually finally copped a feel of her breasts that she was willing to take whatever she needed off.
Once the bra was gone and he'd gotten his hands—and soon his mouth—comfortable enough to make her really feel the anticipation, she was past the point of no return. She was officially so turned on she could feel the pulsing down below and she needed him to take care of that. It was a good thing they'd done the charm because there were more noises and heavy breathing than she'd anticipated when they'd come up here for a snog, but she was never one to beat around the bush. She wanted him. That was all there was to it.
"Take off your trousers," she whispered as she reached down and weakly attempted to pull at them herself.
"You sure?" he asked, though as he said it, he already had one hand on his belt and was fumbling with it.
She was nodding. "I've wanted this for a long time."
He started working on his belt and undoing the buckled part. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since the Trials. We shared a room for a fucking week and at any point I could have climbed out of my bed and into yours and we could have done..." He finally worked himself out of his trousers, leaving nothing left but his boxer shorts, "this."
"I wish you would have," she said as she pulled at her own trousers, though he helped pull them off completely. She kicked them off and was relieved she'd put acceptable knickers that morning and not the goofy, big ones she's sometimes wore when she wasn't anticipating anyone seeing them. "We could have done this every night."
He was on top of her kissing her again. The weight of his body was so comfortable and balanced that she didn't worry for a moment he was going to overpower her. "Why did we wait so long?"
"Because we're stupid," she said into his mouth. "Bloody fucking idiots."
He lowered himself down beside her and, while kissing her, gingerly began running his hand up and down her bare stomach. She knew this move; she knew it well. If he didn't move his hand down and help relieve this intense pressure building in her, she was going to have to do it for him.
She reached down and gave him a guiding push to let him know she was fine with this, which thankfully was all that he needed to get the hint. She let him pull her last remaining piece of clothing off to make it easier and inhaled sharply after a minute or so of him figure himself out down there. She let herself enjoy the feelings of his fingers rubbing against her quicker and quicker.
"Don't stop," she managed to murmur, feeling herself building closer and closer to coming. She took a moment to reach down the front of his pants and grab him because she wanted to make him feel as good as he was making her feel. He was as hard as she'd anticipated and she let herself pull up and down a few times, which seemed well received given his small groan. She wanted to go further; do more, but she was so close to coming that she stopped to let her body react. Even having an orgasm felt better when you truly fancied the person giving it to you. She arched her back and grabbed onto her bed sheet and let the deep, throaty noises escape her.
She went back to kissing him as soon as she'd finished—or perhaps ravishing him would have been more apt. Her hands went back in his pants and began tugging both at him with one hand and then at his boxers to come off with the other. She would have honestly let him do whatever he wanted to her right now, but he seemed content kissing and having himself played with.
"Do you want to…?" she asked, looking up at him with all the intentions and energy she had in her as she continued to jerk at him, building up speed. "I could finish you off or we could…?"
He was making a face as if he was concentrating more on what was building inside of him rather than any conversation they could be having. "I want what you want."
"I want you."
He was closing his eyes, and she assumed he was bracing himself to come. He managed a breathless sounding, "I want you, too."
She slid herself over and it was such a quick change of movement and body parts once he was on top of her, she let go of him and positioned herself to let him guide himself inside of her. She could feel the tip of him about to enter when she remembered the charm and pulled herself out of the moment to begin aimlessly reaching for her wand. He helped and grabbed it first, handing it to her as she cast the spells she needed to, and then tossed it well across the room. He used his arms to support himself, and she braced herself for what it would feel like to experience this whole new side to him as he worked himself in.
This was happening. They were having sex. Jack—who'd she'd helped learn to play Quidditch; who was her brother's best friend; who this time last year, she wasn't even speaking to—was now inside of her, building up a rhythm, and looking sexy doing it as she gazed up at him. His breaths were heavy, and she let herself enjoy how good it felt as he clearly began building himself closer and closer.
She's already almost had him there before, he had to be close already. She'd gotten hers and wanted to make him feel as good as he'd made her feel, so she tilted her hips to give him better positioning and put her hands on his hips to guide him. She watched as his face strained as if he was about to come, going faster and faster now before he inhaled sharply and mumbled a quiet, "I'm gonna..." He'd completely tensed up and she felt one last, hard thrust before he'd tapered off and let his head fall. It's thumped onto her shoulder.
"Fuck," he said.
"That we did."
He laughed a little as he let his body rest comfortably on top of her; his head still on her shoulder. She felt him kiss it a few times before he rolled over and looked over at her. "You make the sexiest faces when you're in it. Surprised I went as long as I did when you looked at me like that."
She grinned as she turned to face him, letting herself rub his arm. "It's your fault. You're really good with your hands."
He wasted no time kissing her again. She was starting to wonder just how much time he'd need to be ready to go once more when she suddenly heard footsteps. Footsteps were walking up the stairs.
She froze. He froze, having obviously heard them too. They looked at each other but said nothing. It was almost amazing how all the air could be sucked out of a room at a moment's notice. A minute ago, she'd felt powerful and caught entirely up in the moment—as if she were a different, sexier person. Now she was back to herself and she had a feeling Jack was too based on the way they were now exchanging panicked looks.
"What on Earth is that noise?" came her father's voice out in the hallway. "Which one of you is listening to that?"
"Shit," Jack mouthed, barely a whisper as he looked around for where he could go.
"Door's locked and he's talking about Louis' music," she whispered, though she was unsure why she was whispering. "You did the charm. He can't hear us."
"Did I do it right?"
"Why wouldn't you have done it right?"
He looked alarmed and as if he didn't know. At the same time, a knock came at her door that startled her and made her inhale quickly. She was completely starkers with a naked boy in her bed and all that separated her father from knowing that was a door. Jack took the opportunity to slide off the bed and start searching for his trousers.
"Nic, are you awake?" asked her father. "Is it you or Lou playing that noise?"
"It's Louis," she called back, testing whether or not her father could actually hear her. Jack looked at her as if she was insane, though when her father didn't answer and proceeded to knock on Louis' door, she assumed the charm had worked.
"Hey, Lou, you've got to turn that off. We can hear it down below."
She glanced over at Jack and watched him pull his trousers on. She raised her hand in a calming manner, as if silently telling him not to panic. She had a plan. She stood and grabbed what she assumed was her shirt, but soon realized after she'd pulled it over her head and it went down past her bum that it was Jack's. It smelled like him. It was a plain grey shirt and she owned her fair share of boys t-shirts—especially to sleep in—so her father would never be any wiser.
She walked over to open the door and Jack nearly had a heart attack. His expression screamed, "What are you doing?!"
She threw him a look to tell him to relax.
He pointed to her and mouthed, "That's my shirt!"
Again, she said nothing but attempted to silently tell him to calm down. She took a deep breath before pulling the door open. Her father was standing between her and her brother's room. He looked at her as she poked her head out and rubbed her eyes, feigning being sleepy. "What's wrong? What time is it?"
"Nearly one," he said before immediately following with, "You can't hear that noise coming out of your brother's room?
"Oh, I can," she muttered. "He's been listening to it all night."
"How are you sleeping, then?"
She shrugged. "Got used to it."
He reached over and pounded on Louis' door again. He then used his wand on the handle and it turned to open, so he let himself inside. She heard the music cut and moments later, he reappeared looking annoyed. "He was asleep. Sleeps like the dead. Didn't even budge."
"That's Louis for you."
"Sorry to wake you up," he said, walking over to kiss her on the top of the head. "Go back to sleep. Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year," she said, watching as he walked back downstairs. She waited until he was completely out of sight before turning back into her dark room and locking the door behind her. She walked over to where her lamp was and clicked it on. Jack was standing in a corner near her closet; he was mostly dressed.
"He's gone," she whispered.
"I can't believe you opened the door."
She laughed a little. "He would have never even dreamed I had a boy here. This is me we're talking about. I'm not sneaking them in and hiding them in my room. He'd never have checked."
He rubbed his face in an exhausted manner. "I'd rather not be the one you test that theory on."
"I didn't see you complaining a few minutes ago."
He looked up from behind his hand and smiled at her, though he still looked a little anxious. The mood had been killed completely and it wasn't coming back. He went and pulled his jumper over his head to finish getting dressed. Dominique thought of offering him his shirt back, but when he didn't ask, she decided to not worry about it.
"I should go," he said, now putting on his shoes. "Especially now that your parents are home."
She smirked. "Oh, it's like that? Get in, get out. Got what you came for?"
He threw her a look, as if to say that wasn't even funny. "It's not like that. Not at all. You know that."
She did know that, but it was easier to take the piss about. She wasn't prepared to handle this right now on anything other than a humorous level. "Are you ok to Apparate?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"You know you can stay here," she said, though his expression said that wasn't possible. She immediately followed with, "Here as in the house—as you have many times before. Not in this room, specifically."
"Your dad was just in Louis' room. He'd have seen I wasn't there."
"Say you slept in Vic's room. We could sneak you in there in the morning. No one's coming back here tonight."
To his credit, he seemed to consider that for a few seconds as he walked over to where she was standing. "I got lucky once. I probably shouldn't push it. Not with your parents. I can't risk it." He smiled at her. "But I really want to."
There was the familiar Jack she knew so well, with his sincere eyes and sweet smile. As amazing as the sex vibe he took on when they'd been in the thick of things, this was the one she'd fallen for in the first place. This one she wanted to kiss innocently in the common room instead of doing her homework—and she'd never wanted something as simple as that before.
She leaned in and kissed him for several seconds before pulling away. "Next time. Back at school where we don't have to worry about my parents walking in on us."
"No, just your brother," he said. "He and I don't even have a wall separating us."
"If only he was going away soon," she said, looking up at him and tugging on the front of his jumper. "For at least a month."
"How long until he leaves?"
"Couple of weeks."
He made a face as if that wasn't what he wanted to hear; he then blew air out of his nose. She let go of his jumper and said, "We'll figure something out," before playfully pushing him away. He did need to go. If he stayed too much longer, she was going to get herself worked up again and risk another visit from her father for strange noises coming through the floorboards.