A/N: The abandoned classroom scene of Chapter 10, as told through James.

I've Never Done That

JAMES

Fuck, he needed her. He'd known spending hours staking out the Slytherin gathering in the Astronomy Tower would do this to him, but it had been worth it. Any time spent by Lily's side, especially time that involved her cuddling next to him, was time well-spent. But now that they were free from the Tower, and he'd spent the past few hours in constant contact with the side of her body, the night suddenly felt rather young and he fucking needed her.

He slipped an arm around her shoulders, hooking his elbow around her neck, and ducked toward her ear. "Did you get my note?"

He already knew she had; he'd enlisted Remus's help to get it in her book in the first place, and Remus had reported back that she'd blushed like mad when she found it.

Lily smiled up at him. "Yes, I did."

"And?"

"I think I can safely say I thought about what you thought about all day."

His stomach did a somersault, and he grinned as he leaned back down to whisper in her ear, "And our streak?"

"Um." Lily closed her eyes briefly, shook her head, and James's insides froze. Fucking hell, he'd messed it up. He slowed down, pulled his arm away from her. Damn, damn, damn. What had he misread? Did he apologize for coming on too strong?

But before he could make his mind up on what to say, Lily chuckled.

Without thinking, he blurted out, "What's wrong?"

Lily held his gaze. "I…can't right now."

James blinked. What the bloody hell did that mean? That she really didn't want to, so she was coming up with an excuse to hide it? "Is this, like, one of those girl rules against streaks? You don't want to hook up with me three days in a row?"

Lily snorted and rolled her eyes. "Potter, for being smart enough to map the whole damn castle, you sure can be bloody thick sometimes."

Damn, damn, damn. It was about him. He'd misread, and misstepped, and apparently he was so bloody thick he couldn't even pinpoint when. He regretted ever opening his mouth in the first place.

Lily arched her brows and lowered her voice as she said, "I got my period."

Oh. Comprehension flooded his brain the same time relief flooded his body, and he sighed as he muttered, "Fuck, I sort of forgot about those."

It was true. He hadn't been with a girl regularly enough for it to come up since the prior school year with Dahlia, and he'd completely forgotten to expect that monthly occurrence Lily was sure to have.

"Lucky you," Lily grumbled.

He arched a brow back at her. "Yeah, well, you've never had to deal with being hard all the time, so lucky you, too."

She flashed him a playful side-eye. "Guess I just forgot about that."

James chuckled, feeling another wave of relief hit him as he realized they were okay, were normal, that it wasn't about him at all. He muttered a playful, "Shove off," as he re-looped his arm around her shoulders, and then, feeling newly emboldened, he steered her down a side corridor as he asked, "So what d'you say about going old school?"

Lily sounded confused. "Old school?"

He removed his arm, leaning against a door as he turned the handle. "Yeah, you know." He flashed her a playful smile. "Like fifth-year shit."

Lily's eyes widened. "Fifth-year shit? What does that mean?"

His mind momentarily boggled at the realization that Lily didn't know what he was talking about, but that was quickly replaced by the hit to his ego over the fact that he'd be the one to show her. James led her into the room, that abandoned classroom he thought only he and his friends knew about, and locked and silenced the door behind them before dropping the cloak on a desk. Lily was standing a few paces away, taking in the room around her, and James grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him as he sat in a desk chair next to her. She followed his cue, straddling his lap, and he immediately slid his hands up her legginged legs, squeezing her thighs as he reached up to kiss her. Her lips were soft, and their kiss was sweet, almost tentative.

James pulled back, and he could hear the raspiness in his voice as he asked, "You've really never done this?"

Lily gave him a look. "Was I conversing with a wall the other night when I spilled my confession?"

James grinned, moving his mouth to trail gentle kisses along her jaw. "Remind me what that was, again?"

Lily muttered, "You're insufferable," but she was still tilting her head for him, opening up her neck for his perusal.

He smiled against her skin. Of course he remembered her telling him he was the only bloke to ever get her off—no way would he ever forget that—but the only thing better than learning that piece of information was hearing her say it. "It's all the shock, I can't remember."

"Oh, please," she grumbled, "as if you haven't memorized every fucking word."

He found that place she liked, just under her ear on the column of her neck, and he sucked lightly on her skin. Lily sighed in pleasure, her hands instantly sliding up his neck to bury into his hair, and his insides started fluttering about inside his body at her touch.

"Maybe I just want to hear you say it," he told her softly.

He heard Lily suck in a breath, and he slid his hands under her jumper, pressing them into the soft, hot skin of her back as he kissed her throat.

"Arrogant," she gasped, her own limbs tightening around him.

James chuckled. She was so fucking stubborn. "Sometimes a bloke needs a nice ego stroke, hmm?"

She gasped softly again as he flicked his tongue around the pulse at the base of her neck, and then she pushed out words in breathless sighs: "James—you're the only bloke—who's ever made me come—and if that's not—the ego stroke—of the fucking century—then I don't know what is."

Heat leapt and swirled within him, every word triggering a rush of pleasure, his ego purring like a lion inside his chest as his grin threatened to overtake his face. He lifted his mouth near hers. "I can probably think of a few more things."

"Oh?"

Going out with him, for one. Being his girlfriend, for another. But it was too soon to say those things, so he just kissed her, and their bodies took off in their own rhythm, his head tilting back for her, mouth opening, tongue teasing, hands roaming over back, waist, hip as her hands threaded deeper into his hair and clutched his neck and sent shivers running down his spine.

They'd made out enough by that point for James to know it was different with her than it had ever been with any other girl. Lily just fit him—they fit each other. It was like their bodies recognized one another, had a whole other subconscious language of knowing, understanding, that made their kisses seamless and their hands sure and their bodies crave. When he'd kissed other girls, he'd always been partially thinking about what he was doing, how he was kissing them, as he did it—but with Lily, that fell away. There was no thinking, only feeling—the gentle scrape of her nails against his scalp and the heat between her legs as she squeezed her thighs around him and the plush softness of her lips against his and the edges of her teeth under his tongue. Her touch made his whole body come alive, all of his desire and want concentrating where he positively ached for her, and all he was conscious of was that he needed more.

Her arms were tight around his neck, her tongue deep in his mouth, when James slid his hands down to cup her bum, sinking his fingers into that delicious skin and pulling her tight against him as he rolled his hips up against her, seeking that friction, and fuck, it was somehow even better than he'd thought it would be. Probably because he was wearing joggers, and she had on leggings, and the rather thin material of both meant that he could feel her nearly as well as if they didn't have any clothes on at all. He thought Lily was realizing the same thing as she squirmed against him and then gasped against his mouth.

James grinned, then said softly, "Like I said. Fifth-year shit."

Lily seemed to stiffen slightly at that, though she kissed him again and slowly rolled her hips over him, sending new heat zinging through his veins. He broke away from her mouth, slightly breathless, to dot kisses to the other side of her neck, murmuring, "Get that friction, Evans."

He felt her hesitate, her hips stilling in his lap, and he brushed his lips against her skin as he asked, "What's wrong?"

Lily whispered back, "Nothing," but it came out too fast, too hurried, and she was still immobile in his lap.

James drew his face up to hers, searching her eyes, and realized with a jolt that she looked…nervous. He was momentarily stunned. Also a little confused. They'd shagged twice already, and fooled around before then, so her being nervous now didn't make any sense to him. Unless…A new thought hit him then. Every time they'd hooked up, he'd been the one driving her toward climax; she hadn't been on top of him, or otherwise taking control of what she wanted. And now he was asking her to, in putting her in his lap, after she'd already confessed that she'd never done this—never gotten off in a bloke's lap just from rubbing against him.

That familiar purr rose in his chest at the thought of being another first for Lily Evans, and he slid his hands to her hips, guiding her against him as he grinned and said quietly, "It's like being on top. Just, you know, with clothes on."

Her eyes searched his, and he saw her throat bob. Understanding hit him.

"You've never—been on top?"

Lily shook her head, biting her lip, and soft flush rose around her neck. But James's chest was purring again, satisfaction and pleasure dousing his body in new waves, because just then all he could think about was being the first bloke Lily Evans would get on top of.

Smiling, he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. "The second your period's over, you find me, because you're getting on fucking top of me."

Lily blushed, her face finally cracking into a smile, and James murmured, "But until then, you're gonna come in my lap."

But she only flushed slightly deeper and bit her lip, and then a deeper comprehension dawned. This wasn't about being on top—this was about her climaxing. Because if she'd never done this before, and he was the first bloke to make it happen, she probably didn't know she could. Hell, James had only learned girls could because Greta had done it, and he'd been just as bewildered when she'd told him to sit against the wall under the Quidditch stands and then straddled his lap and rubbed against him through her knickers. It wasn't until she'd started convulsing in his lap, her face in that familiar scrunch of pleasure, that he'd added up that one of the places she liked to be touched could make that happen all on its own. And then even though he'd connected what to do, it wasn't until he'd gone down on Dahlia, months and months after that, and seen her spread before his eyes, and explored it all with his mouth, and heard those soft yet explicit instructions ("There, James—yes, lick my clit just like that—oh, fuck, Jamesie, that'll get me, don't stop—"), and felt the way she tugged his hair and tensed under him as he focused his attention on this small but apparently mighty piece of her anatomy, that it had all clicked in his mind, and he'd finally, deeply, understood what he'd been doing when he'd touched girls there and how he'd been making them come that whole time.

And from the look on Lily's face just then, he realized he probably knew more about how her orgasm happened than she did. A new surge of affection hit him as he looked at her and saw the vulnerability, the openness, the nerves written all across her face. But he didn't want her to feel embarrassed—he just wanted her to feel euphoric.

Pulling her tighter against him, he rolled his hips into hers and asked, "How's that feel?"

"Good." Lily's voice was breathless. "So good."

He smiled. "Like it'll make you come?"

Lily shook her head, biting her lip again. "No. But I felt it earlier."

He murmured softly, "Then let's find that angle you need," before pressing his open mouth to hers and squeezing her hips, bum, thighs as their tongues tangled and Lily's hands slid back through his hair, her body sliding against his. All of a sudden, Lily gasped into his mouth, and his arms tightened instinctively around her, holding her tightly where she was as he grinned against her mouth. He could feel his tip pressed against where he knew her pleasure point was, and her heat surrounded him, making him slightly dizzy with want, because now he knew exactly what it felt like when their trousers weren't there, when he could just slide inside—

He pulled himself back to focus on the matter at hand: showing Lily how she could come in his lap. Ducking around her face, he brought his lips to her ear and said quietly, "This is the spot that makes you come, Evans. You don't need me inside, you can get there like this."

Lily was quiet above him, her breath a little hitched, and James gently pushed her back on his legs, then slid himself slightly forward in the seat, leaning back just a smidge more against the chair, and adjusted himself to rest more vertically, thinking she probably needed more of an open angle to hit the spot she needed. Lily sucked in a breath, staring at him with darkened eyes, and when he reached for her wordlessly, she came to him, rubbing along his length as she drew herself up against him until they were chest-to-chest.

Pleasure shot through his body at the sensation of her pressed against him like that, and he heard the raspiness in his voice as he coaxed, "Yeah, c'mere, see if this hits your cl—"

"Oh, fuck!"

The words shot out of her as she slid back and forth over him, and James closed his eyes as he smiled, letting his grip on her hips loosen as she took off chasing her own pleasure. Her hands buried in his hair, her face dropped into his neck, and his chest purred, his ego soared, as she ground against him in a rolling, rhythmic motion that told James she got it, she understood now, too, and she wanted it. Wanted him. He could practically feel the renewed confidence that had risen up inside her and taken over, and fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen.

And just like that, he felt his own pressure building in earnest underneath her, knew it was inevitable that she'd get him off if she kept up grinding against him like that—

"Lily—"

His hands dropped to cup her bum again, matching her rhythm to pull her against him with each slide.

"Fuck, Lily."

Her fingers tightened in his hair, she rubbed against him with a little more speed, and a whimpering moan started to escape her before she bit down on her lip.

His lips ghosted her neck. "You don't have to be quiet."

She let a true whimpering moan escape her then, something deep in her throat but that came out sort of high pitched, and it hit James right in the cock, ringing in his ears as he felt himself twitch underneath her, and, like a hypocrite, he stifled his own groan against her shoulder, his teeth scraping her skin as he sunk his fingers deeper into her skin.

She breathed his name, a throaty, "James," that sent his insides fluttering, and then she was grinding against him more purposefully, her voice laced with slightly more edge as she moaned a second, "James."

"Yeah, Lily." He locked on her neck, swirling his tongue along her throat. "Like you're riding me, come on."

He felt her snap, her torso tensing, her hips changing from long, sweeping slides to short, insistent thrusts, like she was zeroing in on the spot she needed, chasing down the climax that was just around the corner—

"James, fuck! I'm—"

Close. She was close. She didn't have to say it; he could tell by how she moved, how she said his name, and he needed her to come because with the way she was moving against him just then, he didn't know if he could outlast her.

He still had one arm wrapped around her back to cup her arse, and he slid his other hand up her jumper, going straight for her breast, his thumb immediately circling, and she rewarded him with soft, gasping moans in his ear as she rubbed against him.

"Get it, Lily." She was swiveling over his lap, rubbing against him in those small thrusts, and took all of his strength to keep control of himself and stave off his own end. "That's it, Lil. Get what you need, babe, come on."

He hadn't meant to say that—babe—but it had just tumbled out of his mouth like it was natural, and he thought she liked it by how she squeezed his head, her fingers frantic in his hair, and then she was shifting higher against him, finding his tip and rubbing around him in small, circular motions that made him want to burst. Her legs trembled, and James stilled, keeping his arms secure around her, knowing this was it, that she was right there, maybe only seconds away. He tilted his face up to smile at her, coax her along.

"There it is. Use me, come on, just like that—"

Lily whimpered as she rubbed against him, and it was almost too much—

"Fuck, Lily, I'm close too"—pleasure tugged at his eyes, scrunching his forehead—"I need you to come—"

He twitched again, his hips thrusting up involuntarily, just needing her—

"James, I'm—oh, fuck—"

And as she pressed her hips against him, the heat of her center against his tip through their clothes, he felt the clenching spasm that told him she was over the edge before her whimpering cry met his ears. He barely heard the groan escaping his own throat as his arms closed tighter around her, barely comprehended that his hips were thrusting up against her as she spasmed and twitched in his lap, barely knew he was murmuring heated yes, Lily's and fuck, Lily's as all of his senses concentrated on the sensations of her climax happening against him.

He was close—painfully close—but not close enough that he'd come from her climax, not when she was slowing down, her body stilling over his, and fuck, he needed to come, he was right fucking there—

And it was like instinct took over, his brain frozen, as he slid her back on his legs and pushed his waistband down and saw her finally open her eyes and held a hand up to her face and felt new heat rush through him as she licked his palm and swirled her tongue over his skin, and then his eyes were closing and there was only that singular focus, that unbearable pressure, Lily's hands at his neck and her forehead resting against his only a distant touch as he closed his hand around his swollen erection and pumped himself roughly once—oh fuck yes—twice—fuck, he was there—a third time—he could still imagine how she felt—

"Fuck, fuck, Lil—"

He barely covered himself with his palm before he came with a soft cry, pleasure bursting behind his eyes and through his body, and the gentle scratch of fingers against his hairline felt like a distant memory as his pulse thundered in his ears and images of Lily flashed in his mind and he worked himself through his climax, forgetting completely, as he did, that he was with her.

But then her face was nuzzling his and her lips were dotting soft kisses over his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his jaw, and his eyes fluttered open, his mouth suddenly dry as he found those green eyes watching him and the realization that he'd just jerked himself off in front of her hit him like a punch to the gut, new nerves now zipping through his veins.

Lily slid off his lap, bending to retrieve her wand from the floor, and asked gently, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

His mind raced. Did he apologize?

"I just—" His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "I was too close, I needed—"

Lily put a finger over his lips, then set to cleaning him up in a role-reversal that wasn't lost on him. "Didn't you just tell me to get what I needed?"

That quelled his racing pulse only a fraction, and he smiled shyly as he answered, "Yeah, but you're—that's different—I don't want you to think I—that I wouldn't want—or that I didn't like—"

Lily arched her brows at him, tilting her head as she asked teasingly, "What's this? James Potter getting shy?"

James rolled his eyes as he pulled his waistband back up and sat straighter in his chair, new heat flooding his stomach. He normally never blushed, but he was sure he was blushing now, as he admitted, his voice low, "I've just—I've never done that."

Lily sat back in his lap, sideways this time, and looked at him skeptically. "I thought we came in here for old school fifth-year shit?"

He smiled softly but shook his head, hardly believing he was talking about this with Lily Evans, let alone that he'd just done that in front of her. "I didn't mean about you. I meant"—he paused, swallowing hard, his mouth suddenly rather dry—"getting myself. Like that. I've never, you know. Done that…in front of someone."

Lily's mouth immediately fell open in a wide smile as she stared at him, and James bit his lip, his heart suddenly pounding again, as he braced himself for her reaction to that confession. What did that smile mean? Was she just surprised? Was she weirded out? Was she about to tease him mercilessly for what he'd just done? Was she going to be offended that he'd done it, and not let her take care of him instead?

But she interrupted his runaway train of anxious thoughts when she said, "I liked it."

His heart did a little flip. "You—you did?"

Lily smirked, leaning closer like she was going to kiss him but hovering in front of his face, and if he hadn't been so damn nervous about what he'd just done, he probably would have been hard again just from that look.

"Potter"—her voice was low and throaty, her eyes sparkling as she held his gaze—"in case it isn't blatantly obvious, I'm obsessed with watching you come, and that just then was one of the hottest things I've ever seen."

Her words knocked the wind out of him for a only a moment, and then relief was filling his veins, a grin splitting across his face, and he kissed her, trying to channel all his damned happiness over her through his lips as he hugged her around her middle. She was obsessed with him. With watching him come. She thought it was hot. She thought he was hot. Lily Evans. It all almost felt too good to be true.

She was kissing him back, her arms looped around his neck, her mouth fighting a smile, and as his normal confidence filled back up with each press of her lips back on his, he pushed out words between kisses, suggesting, "Maybe—we should—go old school—more often."

Lily broke away, giggling, and rolled her eyes. "Because you'll want to stick to just going old school when my period's over?"

He chuckled. "You know me so well, Evans."

Lily smiled at him, her eyes something intense as she said, "They are monthly things, you know. Periods."

He liked how she thought. "Then maybe we should make going old school a monthly thing."

Lily met his gaze, and though she teased, "Maybe," the look in her eyes just then was all the assurance he needed that maybe was really more like probably, actually, decidedly, yes. And fuck, he wanted her.