Classically, the moment that Lily decides that she'll say 'yes' the next times James asks her out, he doesn't ask her on a date for the next two weeks. When he finally does, it's in the middle of a discussion about the best types of red wine, of all things. Lily is partial to merlot, and James is insisting that a good Malbec is life-changing.
20:04
there's a restaurant by my new flat that has the best selection
have been four times and never had a bad bottle
20:06
Hmm, maybe I'll have to try it sometime.
20:08
you know, i could just take you there on a date
20:09
Okay.
20:09
yeah, that's what i figured – worth a shot though
20:11
wait WHAT
SERIOUSLY?
20:12
Oh, so now you're capable of capitalization?
20:15
capitalising letters takes too much work
20:17
Wouldn't be a problem if you had an iPhone.
The green bubbles are annoying.
20:20
soz, i happen to be old-fashioned
Lily snorts at that. Old-fashioned, her ass. James, with his brash suggestiveness and pure recklessness, is very far from the old-fashioned gentlemen she read about in her uni literature classes.
20:25
So, back to that date…
20:29
wait, you're not joking? that's an actual yes?
20:30
As long as you don't spend the whole time trying to get into my pants.
20:32
… isn't that technically the point of a date?
20:33
You know what I mean.
Keep the inappropriate comments to a minimum.
And I don't shag on the first date.
20:35
no promises, love
20:36
I can rescind my yes at any time, you know.
20:37
no you can't
no take backsies
20:40
We're not 3-year-olds, James. That rule died in nursery.
20:42
no take backsies is a motto i live my life upon
20:44
I can't believe I agreed to go on a date with you.
When Lily accidentally lets it slip that she's going on a date with James on Saturday to Marlene and Dorcas, Marlene gives her a looks that screams 'I told you so,' and Dorcas is giddy about making sure Lily looks absolutely perfect.
Lily points out that she was wearing scrubs the first time they met, so if he was attracted to that, it probably doesn't matter what she looks like for this date anyways.
But Dorcas has always loved clothes and makeup, so Lily relents to Dorcas' pleas to help Lily get ready for the date.
On Saturday, two hours before James is set to pick her up, Dorcas comes flying into Lily's flat, cosmetics bag in hand and eyes aglow.
"You're wearing that dark green V-neck shirt you've got hanging in your closet – I know you hate green because you think it clashes with your hair, but it makes your eyes pop and your boobs look great, so it's worth it," Dorcas commands.
Lily accepts that, but not without a little grumbling about looking like 'bloody Christmas.' But Dorcas is right, as she usually is with all things fashion-related, and even Lily has to admit that she looks nothing short of stunning in that shirt, paired with a black skirt and over-the-knee boots.
Lily goes to grab a tube of dark lipstick, but Dorcas smacks it out of her hand. "You're going to leave dark red stains all over his face if you wear that."
"Who says I'm going to kiss him?" Lily retorts, even though she knows full well that there's a very good chance that she kisses him. Provided he doesn't act like a total ass this time.
"The fact that you two have had sexual tension brewing over text message for the past month says that," Dorcas replies in a matter-of-fact tone.
Lily wouldn't quite call their conversations about Netflix binge-watching films of choice a 'sexual tension builder,' but she bites her tongue.
Eventually, once Lily is fully primped, Dorcas leaves. Lily sits on her couch, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram and Twitter to distract herself.
And then the doorbell rings, and Lily opens the door to reveal James, lounging against the door frame in a way she's sure he thinks is suave.
If Lily thought the bloke looked good in a rugby uniform, that's nothing compared to the complete unfairness that is how attractive James Potter looks right now. He's dressed in dark jeans that are fitted just right, and a dark grey button down that's rolled up to his elbows.
When she looks up at his face, she notices that his lips are slightly parted and his eyes wide.
"What are you looking like that for?" she asks, suddenly a bit self-conscious.
He runs a hand through his hair. "We've just been communicating via text for so long that I almost forgot how pretty you are."
Lily rolls her eyes. "James, what did I say about the inappropriate comments?"
"That wasn't even remotely inappropriate – and that was genuine."
An uninvited flush creeps up Lily's cheeks – dammit, how did this boy go from being the most infuriating person she's ever met to this?
Although he can still be pretty infuriating, she has to admit.
"You're annoying," she finally gets out, but it's more teasing than malice.
He grins, clearly enjoying her slight discomfort. "And arrogant and reckless, I know. But the car's waiting downstairs, so if you'd like to continue to insult me you'll have to do it on the way to dinner."
And Lily laughs, locking the door to her flat and taking James' hand.
For that, she earns a look of shock, and she's suddenly immensely entertained by the fact that the same man who can breathe out suggestive comments like they're carbon dioxide can be so stunned by something as innocent as her holding his hand.
He's got a sleek black car waiting out front, and Lily's baffled by this level of luxury until she remembers that he's a professional athlete making an enormous sum of money, and that hiring a driver for the evening is probably something totally normal for him.
When they get to the restaurant, they're immediately directed to a private booth near the back. James clearly pulled some strings beforehand – Lily has to admit, it's a bit uncomfortable to reconcile the celebrity part of James with the part that she's come to know.
He really is a confounding bloke.
James apparently senses her mood shift. "Alright, Lily?"
She looks up from the menu, watching as James ruffles up his hair for what has to be the twentieth time tonight.
"I'm fine," she replies, and in truth, she really is fine. "I'd just forgotten that you're a bit of a, er, celebrity."
She expects this to result in some sort of egotistical comment, but instead James just laughs. "Yeah, I tend to forget it too. I mean, I'm just a bloke who runs around a field with a ball, and somehow I get to do it as a career."
Lily feels the tension in her shoulders loosen. "How'd you get into rugby, anyways?" she asks, suddenly curious. He'd asked her over text why she chose a medical career, but she hadn't asked him the same.
"My parents sent me to some fancy private school up north, and it was basically the sport there. And I took to it like a house on fire. Next thing I know, I'm playing at uni and being scouted for a professional team."
"You went to uni?"
"Don't sound so surprised, Lily, geez," James replies with a smirk, before looking at the waiter that just appeared and ordering a bottle of Malbec for the two of them. Lily would normally be a bit annoyed that he'd ordered for her, but the conversation that led to this date was about the wine at this restaurant, so she lets it go.
When the waiter walks away, James turns back to Lily. "But yeah, I went to King's College. Studied history – if I didn't end up getting scouted I was going to work for one of the museum's here in London. Had an internship lined up and everything."
That news surprises Lily. She also realises that she can never share this information with Marlene, because dammit, that woman was right about yet another thing. James is not, in fact, just an airheaded athlete.
"And here I thought you were all brawn and no brains," Lily teases him.
"So you're admitting that you think I'm fit?"
"If I say yes, I'm worried that your ego might overinflate so much that you just float away."
James' bark of laughter is interrupted by the reappearance of their waiter, who pours James a sample of the bottle of wine that he just brought out. Like the posh bloke that he is, he swirls the wine in his glass before taking a sip.
"That's good," James tells him, and so the waiter fills Lily's glass as well before topping off James'.
Lily takes a sip, and ugh, James is right. This is fantastic wine. In her moment of pleasure, an entirely inappropriate noise escapes her lips.
She's fully expecting James to comment on it – given the almost-moaning sound she just made, it's the perfect set-up for one of his remarks. But instead, he just smirks at her, looking like he's got a comment on the tip of his tongue.
Lily surprises even herself by trying to tease it out of him. "Go on, say whatever it is you're thinking about saying."
"I was told 'no inappropriate comments,' so I'm doing my best to keep them to myself."
"What do you know," Lily muses in response, "an old dog is capable of learning new tricks."
James gives her a look. "We're the same age, love. Don't go calling me old."
She laughs.
"And also, that whole 'you can't teach an old dog new tricks' saying is totally wrong anyways. My mates have this huge 8-year-old lab, and I managed to teach it to play dead a few weeks ago."
"That's Sirius' dog, right?" Lily thinks of the oversized black dog that she met a few times when Sirius brought it with him to visit Remus in Oxford.
"Yeah," James answers, then pauses, looking at Lily quizzically. "Wait, how do you know Sirius?"
"Remus and I were friends at Oxford," Lily answers.
"Damn," James replies, feigning a look of disappointment. "If I'd known that earlier I would've asked him to put in a good word for me – maybe it would've gotten you to say 'yes' to me a little earlier."
"I mean, really, he technically did that a few weeks ago of his own accord. I ran into him at Tesco, and once we discovered that the annoying soulmate I met during an A&E shift was the same person as his mate from secondary school, he told me to give you a shot."
James looks at her, eyebrows raised. "Shit, I guess I should thank him for that."
"He also told me that you wouldn't shut up about me."
At that, James' cheeks fill with color, and he runs his hand through his hair again. "Er, yeah, I guess I did talk about you a fair bit," he concedes. "In my defense, you're apparently my soulmate. I've been waiting to meet you for, like, seven years."
Lily takes a sip of her wine. "Likewise. And then you made a terrible first impression."
"Ah, but I got you on a date with me anyways."
"Might've happened a little faster if you hadn't been such an arse," Lily remarks, before changing the subject. "What are you ordering?"
James tells her that he's torn between two dishes, which are, incidentally, the same two dishes that caught Lily's eye as well. And so Lily relents to the idea that they be one of 'those couples' and order one of the dishes each and split them both.
"Why didn't you mention that you were moving to London until I said something about it?" Lily asks, suddenly remembering that she'd found out about James' relocation from Remus and subsequently a newspaper article about the Wasps' relocation to their original London stadium, and had to actually bring up the topic to James herself.
It seems to Lily as though James would've wanted to tell her immediately, given how adamantly he'd been asking her on dates. Being in the same city as someone you're dating does have the tendency to make a relationship a bit easier.
"I didn't want to come on too strong," James admits. "I mean, I didn't want it to sound like I was up and moving to the same city as you immediately after we met – it sounds kind of creepy, when you think about it. So I figured I'd wait and see if you came around, and then it could be more like a happy coincidence."
Lily laughs at that, a loud, full-bodied laugh that would no doubt garner annoyed glances from fellow diners were it not for the fact that she and James are so secluded.
"You were worried about coming on too strong?" she asks, as soon as she regains her composure. "I believe you told me you wanted me to take your shirt off approximately five minutes into our first meeting."
"Actually, I said I wanted you to ask me to take my shirt off," James corrects.
As if that makes it any better, Lily thinks to herself.
"I was also on a ridiculous amount of painkiller at the time, so you'll have to forgive me for my lack of a filter."
Lily raises her eyebrows at him. "And what's your excuse the rest of the time?"
"That you're so gorgeous I just can't help myself?"
Lily simultaneously wants to both smack him upside the head and snog the living daylights out of him.
The rest of dinner continues in much the same way – flirtatious banter and finding out new things about each other that somehow hadn't been discussed in their weeks of texting. When the bill is paid – James hands the waiter his card before Lily can even reach for her purse and volunteer to split the bill – they walk out into the streets.
"If you're up for dessert, there's a shop right below my flat that has the best pastries – it's a five minute walk from here."
Lily finds that she wants this date to last as long as possible – as much as she hates to admit it, James has completely charmed her, arrogant comments and all.
"Let's go," she tells him, looking up at him and grinning.
His expression mirrors hers, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders as they start to walk. When she doesn't shrug him off, he slides his hand down to her waist.
"No lower," she warns him, but she wraps her arm around him as well.
At the tiny little Italian bakery, they split a cannoli and a chocolate tart and sit at one of the tables by the front window.
Lily gets a bit of mascarpone on her lip at one point, and James reaches over to wipe it off, his finger lingering just a second too long at the corner of her mouth. And Lily has no idea what comes over her, but she reacts by wrapping her mouth around James' fingertip and sucking the cannoli filling off of it.
She watches as James' irises dilate in response, and she has to firmly remind herself that she has a rule against sleeping with blokes on the first date.
But oh God, does she want to.
When the desserts are done, they walk outside. Lily pulls out her phone to call a ride home, and suddenly balks at the price. "Fuck surge pricing," she mutters.
"What?"
"It's like four times more expensive than usual to get home," she explains.
"I can call my driver from earlier," James offers, pulling out his phone.
"No, it's fine, really," Lily says. "I can see if it goes down in a – honestly James, what the hell kind of phone is that?"
Lily stares at the contraption in James' right hand, a silver flip phone that has to be at least eight years old.
"Don't judge my phone," he replies, a smirk on his face. "I happen to prefer the T-9 keyboard."
Lily actually laughs out loud at that. "James Potter, you might be the only person in the history of the world to prefer a T-9 keyboard. Although, I guess that explains why you text so slow."
"I do not text slow!" he protests.
"Slower than someone with a smartphone."
"Well, while you and your fancy smartphone wait for a cheaper ride home, do you want to come up to my flat? It's a bit warmer than standing here on the sidewalk."
Lily's sensible side knows that going up to his flat comes with a high risk of… other things happening. But he is right that it'll be warmer up there. So she agrees to it, and follows him through the building's fancy lobby and up to the penthouse.
When the lift door slides open, James' flat is nothing like what Lily would've expected it to look like. She pictures a rugby player's flat as something covered in sports memorabilia… something of a 'man cave,' really.
But instead, this place is decorated to the nines – all warm-toned painted walls and plush seating and… deer? Yes, James apparently seems to have a thing for deer, because they're on the patterns of the accent pillows, the decorative figurine on the coffee table, and the simple silhouette artwork on the walls.
"James? Why is your flat deer-themed?" The words are out of Lily's mouth before she can think of a more eloquent way to phrase them.
James doesn't look her in the eye. "I just like them, is all. We – me, Sirius, Remus, and our other friend Peter – had this conversation in secondary where we all chose our 'spirit animals,' and we decided mine was a stag. And I've kind of had a thing for them ever since."
Lily resists the urge to laugh, because she knows he's already a little embarrassed from her initial question, but she's struck by just how different James is than what she expected when she first met him.
She walks across the room and ends up in front of the bookshelf. The books displayed are thick academic tomes: The Development of Mass Communication in the Two World Wars, The Long-Term Impacts of British Imperialism, and A Feminist Revision of British History. As Lily reads the spines of his book collection, she can't help but giggle to herself.
"What are you laughing at?" James' voice is right behind her, and Lily almost jumps. She didn't realise he was quite so close.
She spins around and finds herself face-to-face with her date. Who, despite being a famous athlete and an admittedly incredibly attractive bloke, still owns a flip phone and decorates his flat based on his 'spirit animal' and maintains an impressive collection of niche history books. "It's just – you're such a dork."
James frowns, trying to piece together Lily's grin with what just came out of her mouth, that he's no doubt interpreting as an insult.
"I mean that in a good way," she clarifies. "I like you more for it."
And that's all she has to say for James' frown to be replaced by a cocky smirk. "Just how much more?"
"This much more." And Lily wraps her arms around his neck and pulls his face down to hers.
Their lips meet, and Lily immediately feels warmth flooding through her entire body. It's like nothing she's ever experienced before, and she eagerly threads her hands through his hair – it's just as fun to play with as she expected, she notes – and deepens the kiss.
James apparently feels likewise, one hand settling on her waist and the other on the back of her neck as he gently backs her up against the bookcase.
The kiss becomes an open-mouthed one, and Lily swears that she can literally see sparks fly behind her closed eyelids. She wonders if this is a side effect of the whole nerve-linkage thing, amplifying their physical connection. Although it's never showed up in any of the academic papers she's read about all this soulmate science.
Regardless of the science behind it, Lily really wants to shag him. Sod her own rules, honestly. She reaches for the buttons on his shirt, undoing the first two before James pulls his lips from hers to give her a slightly startled look.
"Is this okay?" she asks tentatively.
"Fuck yes it is," he chokes out, and resumes kissing her with even more fervor than before.
They don't even make it to the bedroom.