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Part Two | Pain & Fire
Twenty-Six. Frozen Flame
Never before had Pansy considered the possibility that she'd be the type of girl to enjoy waking up next to a boy who had slept soundly next to her with one arm draped casually over her midriff. The unfamiliar feeling of his arm gently pressing down on her stomach had caused Pansy to jolt awake no less than on three separate instances throughout the night, but yet here she was lying, relishing in the way his mostly naked skin felt against her own. More often than not, Pansy would choose cold over warm, chilly over sunny, but the warmth that radiated from Neville was something new, something addicting...just as addicting as the rest of him. Pressing into the comforting heat as much as she could, Pansy wondered just how it was possible that they seemed to just fit together with a perfection so strong...so perfect, it was almost aching.
An aching perfection. The thought bounced in time with her heartbeat.
Neville's injury, along with his whisky and pain potion concoction, combined with the intense physical workout Pansy had no doubt put him through had clearly taken an exhausting toll on the Gryffindor, who, as far as she could tell, had barely stirred all night.
The memory of the previous night gave her a high unlike any other, a high she never wished to lose. This, them...us.
This time the thought felt as though it was her heartbeat.
She'd taken off her bra, Pansy remembered, and judging by the fact that she was still very much topless, she hadn't felt a need to put it back on. He'd looked at her with pure longing, before kissing her again.
The kisses had grown more desperate, more passionate. After Pansy's bra was discarded, she had found her hands wandering down his stomach; she had sat up straddling him once more, seductively undoing the buttons that lay on the crotch of his trousers. He'd slowly propped himself on the elbow of his uninjured arm and watched her, Gods, she'd loved how he watched her.
She recalled with a smirk how he gasped when her fingers first gently grazed his length. She hadn't removed his underwear, and she had made a point of making her touches as light as possible, teasing him through the fabric - an impressive tight black pair of shorts if she recalled correctly - a few more times, before she'd let out a high pitched yelp of surprise as she found his arms grasping the tops of her arms. He'd yanked her downwards until her face was mere centimeters away from his.
"You are a tease," he had informed her, pointless really she thought; Pansy knew very well that she was a tease, in fact, she positively thrived on it.
His hands had left their position gripped around her arms, and began to run down the sides of her body with long, determined strokes that had sent shivers over Pansy to all the right places, until they met the fabric at the hem of her skirt.
"This needs to go," he had murmured, his voice somewhat strangled, as though a part of it had been discarded with his clothes, as his fingertips gently tugged at the black garment, "it has outstayed its welcome."
She had kissed him in reply. Looking back she wasn't entirely sure why, a witty comeback would have been far more appropriate for her, but nonetheless she had pressed her mouth down against his and pushed her tongue roughy into his mouth, unable to stop her hips sashaying against his, the friction the movement caused very much needed.
Back in the present, Pansy was busying herself by stroking the arm that Neville had placed over her last night gently with the tips of her fingers. The movement caused the tiniest of stirs within him.
Oh good, Pansy thought, now rather keen to involve Neville in her reminiscing.
She heard him sigh deeply, though he did not wake, to Pansy's slight annoyance. She laced her fingers through his own, though his hands were much less responsive than they had been the previous night. Fumbled, was probably the most apt term, that's what they'd done with her skirt anyway, Pansy recalled with a soft smile. His injured shoulder had no doubt played a part in his utter lack of the coordination it took to remove the article of clothing, but Pansy had found it rather endearing, nonetheless.
Eventually, he had managed to wiggle the fabric over her behind, enabling her to pull the skirt the remainder of the way down her legs. She'd sat up once more, now almost entirely naked, with only a small scrap of black lacy fabric separating her from being entirely exposed.
Somehow, she hadn't felt as vulnerable as she would have imagined, and she gripped his hand tighter still at the realisation of how he made her so comfortable, even in their most intimate moments.
Neville stirred properly now, and Pansy found herself burrowing further beneath her cosy duvet, cuddling as close to him as she could. She could hear Draco's mocking tone in her mind. Cuddling, Pansy - really? But she cared not. Cuddling with Neville, she was discovering, was a most alluring pastime. A small groan emanated from her side and Pansy turned her head to face him, where a pair of familiar, slightly bleary, blue eyes were blinking back at her.
"Morning," she said, brightly. The tone sounded foreign coming from her mouth, Pansy rarely sounded bright at any time of day, let alone first thing in the morning.
Gods, what has he turned me into?
"Mmm hey," he replied, his voice deep and croaky, and obviously not quite ready to meet the day. The tired sound made Pansy smile again, and then more so as she felt Neville's arm tuck itself around her, before it pulled her into him. Rolling slightly, Pansy shifted herself so that she was positioned in front of him, where he held her in place with a comfortable tightness, her back flush against his stomach.
"How's your shoulder?" Pansy asked, as she found the back of his right hand with her own, and linked their fingers together, this time the movement reciprocated.
"Not as bad as I thought it would be, though I can't see me saying no to some more of that pain potion in a bit," he answered, his voice was slightly muffled as he buried his face into Pansy's thick head of hair, planting a quick kiss on the back of her head. "Pansy?"
"Yeah?"
"Remember how you told me that Daphne had turned your hair green in the summer?"
Pansy stiffened.
Oh, shit!
With a groan, she heard herself answer a stifled, "Yeah."
"It was nice of you to leave it so I could see it."
Pansy rolled her eyes, relaxing despite her embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm really generous like that," she mumbled.
Neville chuckled again, before kissing her green locks once more. "How long have you been awake?"
"Not too long, I was just...recalling the events of last night."
"I hope I didn't disturb you.."
"You did, actually."
"What part did you get to?" Neville asked, and Pansy could feel the smile in his voice, which was now sounding less croaky with every word he said, but a certain huskiness remained.
"My skirt had just come off," Pansy answered with a smirk.
"Oh, that was one of my favourite parts!"
From her position, once again straddling over him, Pansy had quickly realised she was in an optimal point to graze her most sensitive spot over his hardened length. Which, from what she was able to feel, seemed to be, in her humble opinion, rather impressive.
His hands had landed gently on either side of her thighs, and his breathing deepened in time with hers as her hips graduated into a rotation; slowly at first, though her speed increasing gradually. She felt Neville buck up slightly into her every so often.
"Pansy," Neville had gasped, his voice strained. She had experienced an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction at that.
She had halted her movements and tilted her head, sheepishly, to the side. "Yeah?"
"You have to stop," he had said, his eyes pleading.
"But I'm having far too much fun," she had replied with an exaggerated innocence.
"Me too," his fingers had began to trace small patterns inwards over her thighs, causing Pansy's breathing to hitch as he grazed close with both hands to the sensitive points where her legs met her torso. "Lie down on your back."
"You didn't say 'please'," Pansy had replied, smirking as she made one large, deliberate thrust.
Neville had angled his upper body upwards, a feat which was surely difficult given his injury. He hadn't flinched or grimaced, however. Which was really rather impressive now Pansy thought about it.
"Please, tease..." he ran his left arm over the base of her back, briefly dipping his touch lower to pinch her behind.
He had darted his left hand up her back, grabbing a fistful of her hair, which he used to effortlessly guide the surprised Slytherin downwards, until she was lying next to him, utterly perplexed, incredibly impressed and if possible, even more turned on.
"Hey, you can-"
He'd rolled over with remarkable speed, in spite of her shoulder, and pushed himself on top of her, his hands finding the sides of her face, locking her into a passionate embrace and cutting Pansy's words off with a kiss of his own, which had been like the searing, impossible, combination of a frozen flame. As hot as fire, and with the sharpness of ice, at that point, Pansy doubted whether she would have remembered her own name.
"You're incredible," he murmured from behind her, drawing her into the present once more.
"Hmm, I'm okay," she replied, tightening her fingers that were laced through his own.
"You are many things Pansy Parkinson, but okay, is not one of them."
"We must be a good match then, because you are also best described as incredible."
She could feel a strange something begin to press into the base of her back, the movement, and the realisation that the strange something was in fact Neville's something, caused Pansy to lean her head back against him. His lips met her neck in a series of short, tender kisses, and Pansy heard a small moan escape her lips as she felt his hands begin to snake over her body.
His kiss had intensified and then all of a sudden subsided, making way to a succession of light brushes over her lips, cheeks, neck and chest. She was distractingly aware of his erection that would gently press into her sporadically, each time making her moan just a little louder.
His hands had ventured down, first over her shoulders, before his palms glided gently over her breasts. Pansy had pushed her chest upwards, and this time they had moaned together as he explored the soft skin and delicate points that lay just below his fingertips.
"Neville…" she had whispered, unable to form any coherent sentence to convey her mismatched thoughts.
Her back had arched even further when she first felt him place delicate kisses on the tips of her breasts, and she had felt the weight of his body leave hers as Neville pushed himself back over so that he was positioned on his side, one arm acting as a pillow, which, she now realised, had positioned her head in the most optimal way for him to kiss her when he wished. His other arm was on top of Pansy's stomach, and had alternated between trailing down and over her belly button and reaching back up, in order to give her breasts another caress, before he finally trailed his hand down once more, further than he had gone before, and began to stroke the lacy fabric of her underwear.
Pansy squealed as Neville's hand landed unexpectedly upon her breast, laughing as she felt the way his erection twitched slightly as he took her delicate nipple between his fingers, before stretching his arm slightly in order to reach the other.
Pressing into his hand, Pansy found herself slightly amused at the initiative Neville took by stretching the arm that had so far been beneath her, unmoving, forward, so that he was able to caress both at the same time.
The amusement was short lived, however, as her breathing quickly hurried, and only one thought dominated her mind as she succumbed to him once more. "Touch me like you did last night."
His touch had at first remained reserved and unsure, and Pansy, whose entire semblance of being was one solely of desperation for him to touch her, carried her own arm downwards, and placed her palm so that it pressed into the back of his hand. She guided him steadily, surely, towards her innermost private place and directed his fingertips to her most sensitive spot.
"Touch me here," she had urged.
And so he did, this time his fingers found their destination quickly, and Pansy realised with a satisfied sigh, that he had clearly remembered just what movements in particular she had enjoyed the most.
Pansy's hand snuck behind her, slipping beneath his underwear easily find Neville's hard length and wound her fingers around his shaft. Beginning an up and down motion, she grasped him as tight as she dared and their hands worked together, each pleasuring the other with nothing but raspy cries of the other's name, in between stifled moans. Pansy tilted her head around as far as she could, kissing him hard, and then harder still.
"Gods Pansy, you're perfect."
"That feels so fucking good," she had moaned against his chest, as his fingers had increased in speed. Her hand had left his shortly after she had directed him, and after he had forcibly ripped her underwear from her body before quickly placing his hand back to where she needed it most, Neville had needed little further instruction. Pansy had busied herself by returning the pleasure, her hand was beneath his own underwear and was running up and down over his erection.
"I know," was all he had managed to respond. His breath was ragged and when his mouth pressed itself into hers. Their kisses had been fragmented and uncoordinated, and, in Pansy's mind, as hot as the fire he caused within her.
"I'm going to-" she whispered against his mouth. She didn't remember closing her eyes but they were shut as an orgasm gripped her, the pleasure like no other erupted, washing over her in silent waves.
Neville had followed suit a few seconds later, his less silent as he moaned her name.
They had laid, panting and unmoving in each other's arms until their heavy breathing had regulated.
He had trailed a line of kisses over her shoulder, before whispering raspily, "I'm really glad that Winky suggested I stay here."
"Hmm," Pansy had answered with a brief laugh, "though, I'm fairly sure that you are supposed to be here to rest, not…" she trailed off as they both descended into a swarm of laughter.
"This was far more medicinal than any rest," Neville had replied, continuing to kiss Pansy's shoulder between his words.
"Well, be that as it may, if you don't rest now, Winky will hunt me down."
"Hmm, well I couldn't forgive myself if I were to be the cause of that manhunt. I'm fairly sure that elf could take you down," he had said with a chuckle. "No offense," he had added.
Pansy had laughed again. "None taken, I completely agree. Now, get some sleep," she had instructed, the bossy tone present in her voice making Neville snort.
"Goodnight, beautiful," he had replied before wrapping his arm over her frame, and after a few short minutes Pansy realised his breathing had slowed and steadied, a small smile present upon her face.
"Goodnight," she whispered into the darkness.
"Gods, if there is a better way to start the day, I've not experienced it," Neville stated once his breath had steadied.
"There isn't," Pansy replied with a small laugh, giving Neville a quick kiss before she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Walking to her chest of drawers, Pansy looked coyly over her shoulder. "You better be checking me out."
"I'm always checking you out."
Pansy turned back with a smirk, pleased with his answer, and busied herself with her search for clothes. "Do you want some breakfast?" she called over her shoulder as she grabbed some clean underwear.
"Definitely, I'm bloody famished."
Pansy laughed as she pulled a crisp, grey vest over her naked form and, catching a glimpse of herself in her nearby mirror, realised something with a start. She looked dishevelled, tired and, she had to admit, satisfied. And for one of the only times in her life, even Pansy could recognise that she looked genuinely, and unquestionably, happy.