Author's Note: It's about to get M-rated up in here. Not, in my opinion, particularly explicit, but here we go with our first sex scene and the reason for having needed to update the story's rating. Enjoy...
Chapter 17 – Get It Right
I feel the thirst pouring out of me
For the things that I want to try
That echoes in my head
This is the first time I get to see things I've never seen in my life
You make flowers grow under my bed
The loaded words Janey had intimately whispered just seconds before hung in the air like a winter mist over the Black Lake.
Janey snaked a hand around the back of Sam's head, letting her fingertips gently caress the soft hair that sat there. She could feel the anticipation emanating from his body. She wondered if he could feel it from her too.
What had possessed her to pursue this was a shock to Janey herself. It wasn't something she had necessarily considered beforehand or even paid much thought to. But right there, right in that moment, with him and her, with them, it felt so right. It felt like the only logical path, and Janey was filled with an intense, burning longing the likes of which she'd never truly felt before. She craved Sam, craved a new level of intimacy with him that she hadn't been able to achieve with him before.
That she hadn't, she realised, achieved with anybody before.
Janey gulped, in spite of her confidence just moments before. It was as though the gravity of what she'd proposed had finally settled in. What she had asked for was a big step in any relationship, but also in her life. And Sam's too. They were only seventeen. Which, Janey considered, wasn't unreasonable at all, but things seemed to work differently at Hogwarts. It wasn't as though students weren't sleeping with each other, Janey knew that, but it felt like far less of a common thing than a regular high school-type situation. There was so much else going on what with the magical antics, and all that, that casual teenage hook-ups weren't really at the forefront of life at Hogwarts. She wondered, with amusement, whether there were any enchantments in place meant to discourage such activity.
But you aren't at Hogwarts, Janey reminded herself. You're a teenager at home for the summer.
She wondered if any of her friends had been in situations such as that. If they were in situations like that. Rose and Scorpius, for example. God, they were like animals when they got at it, and that was in front of people, let alone what went on behind closed doors. But no, Janey was sure that sweet, innocent Rose certainly wasn't letting Scorpius get to know her like that. She'd probably wait until they were out of Hogwarts, if not until they were married.
Taylor had barely snogged a guy properly, if she even had at all, so Janey was sure she hadn't progressed anywhere beyond that. But Gwen? Gwen and Mason had been together for a solid year, Janey considered, so perhaps it wasn't too unbelievable that they had perhaps tested the waters of a more mature level of intimacy. Although, she supposed, they had been slightly younger. And besides, if Gwen had been up to that, and Janey hadn't even heard a whisper, she'd need to officially revoke her crown as the queen of all things gossip and scandal behind the gilded doors of Hogwarts Castle.
Janey considered those outside of her immediate group of besties. Jinx, for example. Perhaps she and Albireo had found themselves in a similar situation over the holidays. And as for James Potter… Well, he and Ebony were married, for goodness sake, there wasn't even a remote chance that they hadn't consummated their matrimony. She'd never known a hornier teenager than that of the former Head Boy; she wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't initiated many a formerly 'pure' young lady into the hall of scandal.
Janey wondered why it even mattered what those around her had or hadn't done. It wasn't anything bad or wrong to want what she wanted, and she had never cared what anybody thought about her personal life before then. She just wished she'd talked to someone before she'd propositioned Sam. Just a little guidance, or reassurance, or something of that ilk.
"Sam," she whispered, an unspoken question lingering between them.
He very visibly gulped in response. He hadn't made eye contact with her since she'd said what she'd said.
"I… uh…"
"Sam, please." Janey was pleading, but she didn't know what for. "Please just look at me."
He did, his soft brown eyes meeting hers finally. He looked so young. Perhaps this had all been a horrid mistake. Why had she said that, Janey internally cursed.
"I… uh," Sam repeated, looking dazed. "I need to sit down." He broke free from her gentle grasp to sit on the edge of the bed, remarkably pale.
Had it really been such a horrible proposition, Janey worried, or was he just nervous? She didn't say anything, allowing him to take the lead after the bombshell she'd just dropped. If she had known this awkwardness would linger in the room then she might not have said anything at all. Janey didn't know whether she should feel offended. She had, perhaps, thought there would be an initial moment of surprise, followed by nervous anticipation, and then great enthusiasm. But it seemed Sam had not yet extended beyond the first stage.
"Sam?" Janey asked after a while, as he still had not said a word. Nor did it appear he'd even blinked or taken a single breath.
He suddenly gulped, breaking out of what was almost like a trance, though not the awe-filled one Janey would have hoped for.
"Janey, I… I don't know if…"
Janey was mortified. Sam didn't want to.
He was struggling to express whatever it was he wanted to say. "I'm never—I haven't—"
"I know," she said quietly. "I haven't either. I just thought… It's my birthday, and I…" But Janey didn't know what to say either. She hadn't ever thought she would need to sell it to him. To discuss the benefits of what she'd offered. She hadn't expected there would be much conversation at all, and now she felt humiliated. "Just forget it," she mumbled, turning away.
Sam suddenly leapt to his feet and caught her arm before she could do so. "Janey, wait."
A burning intensity fell between them as they looked at each other, both incredibly nervous. Janey felt very small all of a sudden, completely at Sam's mercy, whatever decision he might make next.
Sam didn't say anything, but he placed his other hand on her arm and continued to stare at her, as though internally battling a storm he had never foreseen. His hands slid down her body, and Janey felt her breath catch in her throat.
She had completely forgotten how to breathe, completely forgotten how to speak. All she could do was feel the sensation of his gentle fingertips brushing against her skin and the pounding of her heart deep within her chest. Each thump of her heart sent a new thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins. God, she'd never wanted anything more than this.
Janey hadn't even realised she was biting her lip. "Would you like to lie down on the bed?" she asked in a breathy whisper.
Sam didn't reply. At least not verbally. Keeping his gaze intently locked on hers, he allowed her to lead him backwards towards the gigantic bed. Janey wished she knew what he was thinking.
She settled herself in the centre of the bed, propped up by the hordes of fluffy pink cushions and, rather embarrassingly, an audience of stuffed, plush animals. Was this right?—she wondered. Was this how it should happen—in her childhood bedroom, in her father's ridiculous mansion, with what in years to come she'd look back on as her childhood sweetheart? Or should it be more intimate, more personal and romantic. A little hotel suite perhaps, after an evening of fine dining.
Get over yourself, Janey thought to herself. This isn't Pretty Woman. This isn't a film. It's just sex.
Janey had never been shy with her body. She wasn't a prude, she wasn't an angel, and she'd snogged plenty of boys during her time at Hogwarts. She'd let them feel her up in broom cupboards and clumsily suck on her neck behind well-placed tapestries. And she'd enjoyed it all.
And yet, something was different with Sam. Even though they'd barely stretched beyond the realms of innocent teenage makeout sessions and an awkward fondle here and there, this felt grown up, and important, and serious. And why did Janey feel so nervous? She was the one who'd propositioned him after all, and it wasn't that big a deal.
It's just sex, she told herself again. Maybe that was a big deal to some people—people like Rose, no doubt—but it needn't be for everybody, and she simply didn't feel it was for her. Janey wanted to explore her body on her seventeenth birthday with the boy she was in a relationship with. That wasn't a bad thing. And it wasn't a big deal.
But Sam would have something important over her forever, Janey realised. If they were to really do this, they would forever be linked by that one shared experience no matter what became of their relationship. Perhaps, in years gone by, she would hear his name in passing somewhere and smile as she recalled that moment right there in her bedroom. The moment she truly became a woman.
Without meaning to, Janey let out a snort.
"What?" Sam asked in a panic. He had been in the process of lowering himself onto her body, still struggling to catch his nervous breath.
"Nothing, nothing," Janey dismissed, gripping his shirt and pulling him towards her. "Just kiss me."
Sam seemed to relax somewhat as his body eased down atop hers, and the instant their lips connected, they both seemed to relax a bit. This was okay again. This was normal and comfortable. They could do this.
In truth, Janey had made herself laugh at the thought of losing her virginity somehow marking her as a 'real woman.' Sex didn't mean anything, she assured herself once more. It wasn't marriage, it wasn't love, and besides, no kind of relationship should define anyone as such anyway. Janey could be whoever the hell she wanted. People who placed such a level of importance on a relationship, whether emotional or physical, only stood to get hurt. Look at her parents. Look at the string of women her father seduced, and used, and left in his wake. Had they really thought sex had meant anything more than what it had?
"What happened? What's wrong?"
"Huh?" Janey was dazed, not even realising she'd seized up and stopped reciprocating Sam's eager passion. "Oh, uh, nothing, I was just thinking about my dad."
Sam rolled off of her in shock. "Oh my God, why, is he here?"
"No, no, no," Janey dismissed, reaching for him again, keen to resume what she'd unintentionally interrupted.
But Sam was resisting. The look of sudden concern had not left his face. "Wait, Janey, stop."
Janey was irritated but compliant.
"Is this just a weird… daddy issue… thing?" Sam gestured between the two of them, their bodies angled towards each other but now no longer touching.
"No!" Janey protested. "Forget I even said anything, it was stupid; you just caught me off guard.
"Off guard?" Sam asked shrilly. "Janey, you just asked me to… to sleep with you. Is this not about us? Is this about…" He was flustered, unsure how to even express what he wanted to.
"What?" Janey asked, genuinely surprised.
"Is this about, I don't know, something to do with sticking it to your dad or—or proving yourself as an adult or something? I don't know, I just—"
"It's not about anything, Sam." Janey was almost pleading with him. "Please can we just get back to where we were? We don't need to talk about it."
"Yes we do," Sam said firmly.
Janey rolled her eyes. "Why?"
"Because…" Sam looked nervous. "Because this is a big deal to me, and I want to know it matters to you too."
Janey just stared at him, dumbfounded.
"I don't want to be used," Sam said meekly. He looked embarrassed, as though thousands of teenage boys were watching him mockingly, laughter in their eyes. For some reason, they all looked like James Potter. Maybe a Scorpius Malfoy thrown in there too. Annoyed at the non-existent James Potters, and frustrated at himself for being such a loser, Sam pushed himself away from Janey and settled himself on the edge of the bed facing away from her.
Janey was stunned into silence. She had never considered that, even though it wasn't a big deal to her, it might be a big deal to Sam. She just assumed all teenage boys wanted to lose their virginity—that it was all they ever thought about.
"You don't want to be with me?" Janey asked, embarrassed that there was a slight hitch in her throat. "Physically, I mean?" She pushed herself up to a sitting position too, but she was too anxious to approach Sam. Instead, she huddled her knees up to her chest for comfort.
"Of course I do," Sam insisted. "It's just that a couple of months ago we'd never even kissed and now we're…" he gestured helplessly, throwing a pleading look in her direction.
"It's normal, Sam," Janey said coolly, trying to brush off how hurt she felt inside. "It's what couples do. Everybody else is going to be doing it, if they aren't already, and your mum already thinks we're doing it anyway."
"But I've never had a serious girlfriend before, Janey. This is a big deal to me. I don't care about what everybody else is and isn't doing, or what other people think we are or aren't doing. It should be about us," he said firmly.
"It is," Janey insisted, starting to get annoyed by whatever Sam was trying to imply. "It's not about my dad," she said in disgust. "Or anybody else. I'm just saying this is what I want, and I thought you might want it too, and that it's not bad for us to want to do this together."
Janey felt bad for raising her voice, as though she were somehow condemning Sam for saying the things he was. But something within her ate away at her, insisting it was something to be upset about. It wasn't a big deal, she had assured herself firmly. She could have progressed to a physical relationship with plenty of other guys if she'd wanted to, but she hadn't wanted to until then. She had gifted Sam that honour, that literal pleasure, and it felt like he was rejecting her.
She felt like a complete idiot. Why had she even said anything?
An awkward silence now hung between them. Janey wished he would just go, leaving her to mull over the humiliating experience by herself.
Sam eventually spoke again, but he still refused to look her in the eye. "It's a big thing to ask of me, Janey."
"Okay, I'm sorry," Janey apologised, although she felt like he was the one who owed her an apology. She took a breath, knowing she needed to be sincere. "I'm sorry that I sprang it on you. I just thought that this was where we would take the next step in our relationship, and it felt right for it to be now, here, on my birthday."
"This is the most, uh, physical, I've ever been in a relationship," Sam explained in a delicate voice, blushing ever so slightly. "And I feel like, for me, a lot has happened in a very short space of time, and I'm still trying to come to terms with what's already happened. Like I'm trying to catch up with it all."
Janey suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, knowing it would upset Sam. But honestly, they were just teenagers being teenagers. She supposed it was slightly endearing that Sam was so naïve about it all. She had always moved at a faster pace than him.
"Okay," she said calmly, trying to appease him. "I understand."
"It's a big deal to me," Sam clarified again, as though knowing she didn't really buy it.
"But why?" Janey asked. "It's just s—" But she couldn't even say it aloud, seeing how Sam flinched at her casualness.
"Maybe not for you," Sam said, now completely beetroot in complexion. "You're…"
"A slut?" Janey asked scathingly.
"What?" Sam whipped his head around sharply to look at her. "No, not at all! I was going to say because you're… you know… you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Janey snarled.
Sam looked alarmed but remained calm as he spoke to her, like soothing a distressed animal. "Janey, please, I'm not insulting you. I'm trying to compliment you." He reached for her hand across the bed, and after some reluctance, she allowed him to take it. "This relationship means something to me," he explained. "You mean something to me. And sleeping with each other"—he tried not to wince—"is a really big deal to me. I get that it obviously isn't to you, which is fine, but I want to know that the person I give that part of me to is someone I really…"
It was Janey's turn to blush.
"Care about," Sam clarified. "And I do, Janey. Care about you, that is. Which is why I don't want to rush things."
Janey felt ridiculous for sulking, but she couldn't help it. Wasn't she supposed to be the one desperately clutching her pearls and trying to cling to her virginity whilst Sam attempted to charm her into bed? How ridiculous that the one boy in all of their year whom she was awarding this honour to was probably the one guy who seemingly wasn't keen to rush her into bed. Sure, it was because he respected her or whatever, but God, what a joke.
But Janey daren't voice this. She was aware how self-centred her thought process was and knew her frustration at the situation wasn't exactly justified. Just suppose it was the other way around, and she was voicing her hesitance to progress physically, and he was pressuring her, feeling insulted she didn't want it too. The dynamics of the situation weren't okay just because Janey was the woman in this situation, and she knew that, despite her unrelenting bitterness.
"I think you should go," Janey said quietly.
"Janey, please," Sam begged, looking at her sharply.
"No, Sam, it's fine. You don't have to be here. I've made it weird and uncomfortable, and I shouldn't have said anything, and I really think it would be best for both of us if you just leave." She hated the unappreciated hitch in her voice. God, she thought, was she really going to cry over this? Her urgency for Sam to leave deepened. She wasn't going to cry in front of him for the first time because he didn't want to sleep with her. How pathetic.
"I don't want to leave you like this," he said weakly.
But Janey had crossed her arms over her chest in that stubborn way that she did.
Sam got up from the edge of the bed and gently crawled towards where she was sitting in the centre. It was the biggest bed he'd ever been on. When he reached her, he settled next to her and put his arm around her.
It took a few moments for Janey to melt into his embrace, but she kept her arms crossed and her expression stony. She was desperately trying not to cry but was fully aware that it looked like she was sulking. It must be an ego boost to Sam, surely, she thought scathingly. That she wanted him this badly and he didn't even care.
Neither of them spoke as Sam simply held her. Minutes passed. Janey was too stubborn to say anything. Sam didn't know what he could possibly say.
Eventually, though, he did speak first. "Do you really want me to go? Because I will," he promised, "but only if that will really make you feel better."
Janey considered his offer. She did want him to go. She felt humiliated and wanted to be alone to feel the things she felt privately, but she also didn't want him to take the reassuring warmth he provided with him. It was weird, she thought, for all Sam riled her up and brought out the worst in her, he was also the only one who truly made her feel calm.
"Will you just… hold me?" she asked after a while, knowing he already was but craving just a bit more closeness.
"Of course."
Without either of them needing to communicate, they both sank down onto the bed so they were lying down. Janey uncrossed her arms so she could reciprocate the embrace, and they lay together in silence, just cradling each other atop the vast duvet. It was so physically comfortable that Sam wished he could stay the night, but even if nothing actually happened, just that massive step triggered a small spark of anxiety.
Why did it frighten him so much?—he wondered, almost a little angry at himself. It wasn't like the thought of physical intimacy with Janey had never been desirable. He was seventeen years old, he'd been craving it long before he'd even allowed himself to realise he cared for her. And he longed for her near-constantly. To kiss her, to touch her, to explore all those new exciting things with her.
And yet, he had genuinely not expected sex to ever be on the cards that early. It had almost been a safety barrier for him—knowing it couldn't even be a possibility until they finished their seventh year. But why?—Again, he had to wonder.
What if Janey changed her mind, and that was his one chance to do this with her. Would it really be so bad? To give into those cravings they both clearly had?
Again, Sam pondered why there was even so much reluctance on his end. It was perhaps unnerving to think about how quickly they were progressing, that had all been true. But there was more. Sam felt like, perhaps, he wouldn't actually be able to satisfy Janey. That if he did this, and she hated it, she would dump him, mock him maybe, and move on to pursue something better. Maybe that was what she'd wanted all along—just someone to satisfy her physical desires, and Sam had surely been keen enough.
He was worried, in essence, that if their physical relationship progressed then their emotional one would halt. If they reached that pinnacle, he would no longer be desirable to her, so he was intent to stave it off as long as possible. He was also mortified at the thought of her seeing him naked.
Sam was well aware that he didn't have the body of a Greek God. He'd now spent a lot of time shirtless around the other Hogwarts boys. James Potter and Scorpius Malfoy had been playing Quidditch since before they even set foot in Hogwarts, and Mason too had been on the Gryffindor team since before he was a teenager. They were athletes. He and Albus alone were the only ones who had been late to the game, and it showed.
Sam knew he wasn't either skinny or overweight, but he knew he wasn't as broad-shouldered as the others, as tall, and nowhere near as toned. It wasn't like Quidditch gave you mega abs, but it was surely noticeable that they were all in better shape than he was.
Janey had seen him shirtless a lot, he reasoned with himself. She obviously didn't find his body repulsive, but that was only from the waist up. From the waist down… He gulped. How was he to know what was and wasn't desirable? He certainly hadn't ever compared himself to the other guys in that aspect. What if she laughed, he thought in a panic. What if she was disgusted? The thought that anyone could find what he had to offer even as remotely enticing as Janey's body was to him was laughable. Not even in a funny way though—in a downright humiliating way.
"Sam, are you okay?" Janey asked with genuine concern.
Sam hadn't even realised he'd broken out into a cold sweat.
"You don't have to do this," she said awkwardly. "If even this is too much."
"Janey, I'm fine." Sam hadn't meant to snap, but his aggression was more at himself than it was her. The notion that he was somehow unsettled by merely embracing her on a bed was insulting. He wasn't afraid of intimacy, he insisted to himself. God, no, of course he wanted it, desired it, longed for it even—but he was hesitant.
Almost to prove to her, as well as himself, that not only did he not fear intimacy, but he craved it—he just wanted to set clear boundaries—he kissed her. Just a light, soft kiss on her lips at first, nothing unusual, before parting her mouth with his own and tasting the sweetness he now associated with her.
He'd gotten good at kissing, Sam thought a little smugly, and he could still give Janey a little bit of what she wanted. A compromise.
She let out a small moan of surprise at how quickly he transitioned from gentleness to deep, lingering motions, but met his energy gratefully. Sam's body wasn't atop her fully, but he was leaning over her, leading, dominating.
For the first time, Janey didn't need to lead Sam's hands to where he'd previously been too shy to put himself. He did it naturally, exerting gentle pressure.
Janey moaned again, and Sam liked it. He felt good, desirable, pleased he was satisfying her even a little bit. She gripped at the back of his head, but it wasn't enough. Within seconds, Sam was atop her completely.
Something like giddiness was ripping through Sam's stomach. He had been too awkward to be in such an intimately compromising position with her on his own bed at his own house, but this was different. There were no parents, no cramped conditions, and Sam knew exactly what the boundaries were. They already knew it wasn't going to go beyond snogging, so it was fine. Why not be a little more adventurous?
Janey, he could tell, liked it a lot. She was clawing at his back, and before Sam even really realised what was happening, he was rhythmically thrusting his hips along her body in time with her own movements.
And then something incredibly bad happened.
Adrenaline, euphoria, something purely animalistic, was bursting through Sam's body, far beyond that initial spark of giddiness he'd felt just a minute before. He and Janey were kissing so hard it was like he was trying to devour her from the inside, to reach every inch of her mouth's interior like his life depended on it. He had completely lost any control of what he was doing with his hands, grasping at flesh, skin, clothes, hair, blindly groping as he responded to not only his own pleasure but also Janey's gentle moans of encouragement.
Sweat was pooling at his temple and down his back. Almost like she sensed this, Janey used her nimble figures to unbutton Sam's shirt, their mouths still heartily connected, and in just a few seconds, it was discarded completely. Good riddance, Sam thought, instant refreshing relief at being disrobed. It had only been in the way.
"Is this okay?" he panted, remembering uncomfortably that his own pleasure didn't precede hers, and if she wanted to stop then that's what he would do. But God, he hoped she didn't.
"Shut up," Janey merely said in response, pulling his mouth back towards her own. Now free of his shirt, Sam could feel the sensation of Janey's fingertips digging into his skin as she continued to grip and claw at his back, mingling yet another pleasurable sensation into the mix he was overwhelmed with already. That driving surge of pleasure had extended to every inch of Sam's skin.
Almost with horror, Sam was painfully aware that the solid presence where their lower bodies were connected, providing him particularly pleasurable pulsations, wasn't just the pressure of Janey's hipbone as he'd naively assumed and ignored, but was entirely his own body's doing. She could surely feel everything, and a wave of painful self-awareness cascaded over Sam. His trousers felt almost painfully restrictive, but he surely could not remove them too. That would be going too far, he knew, but at that point, he almost didn't care.
Sam's lips had started to feel so numb from all the desperate snogging that he considered pulling away, despite not wanting the thrilling sensations it brought to cease, but Janey got there first. Sam was almost relieved that she broke the kiss, stopping their progression, but he barely had time to catch his breath before she had gripped his chin in her hand and pushed him into an upright position. Was she angry, he suddenly worried. Had he taken it too far?
Janey had pulled off her silk mini-dress in one swift movement as she now straddled him, both of them sat upright. Her bra was hot pink and lacy, far more provocative than any of the bikini tops he'd become accustomed to over the summer. Before Sam properly had time to stare in awe at the ample cleavage he had a cracking view of, Janey had pressed her mouth to him again, but this time it wasn't his lips.
Sam was struck with further awe and delight as Janey began to suck at his neck like some kind of vampiress, gripping his chin once more for support. He had instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist once they'd adopted this new position and could feel her sweat mingling with his own. Awestruck and unsure what he was supposed to do, Sam merely embraced the new sensations of pleasure he was feeling as Janey's mouth worked expertly against his throat, biting, sucking, nibbling, kissing. All he could do was groan with delight, completely helpless to it.
He wondered if he should stop her so he could reciprocate this new technique, but he didn't think he had the willpower. Like the scratches down his back, it was a mingled delight of both pain and pleasure, which he never wanted to end.
The discomfort Sam felt in his crotch was now unbearable, and it was that which made him push Janey away from him. She fell onto the doughy mattress below her with surprise and a soft thump, her thighs still either side of Sam's waist.
"Janey," Sam panted, and he thought she understood as her eyes drifted south. Her expression conveyed neither delight, shock, nor discomfort.
"We should stop," she said in a daze.
Sam even took himself by surprise when he said, "We don't… have to."
Janey's eyes widened ever so slightly, but she didn't say anything.
"I don't want to," Sam clarified, feeling bold. "But if you want to then of course we will." He nervously awaited her response.
Janey remained breathless and dazed. "Are you sure?" she asked quietly. "Everything you said—"
"Ignore what I said," Sam said, furious at himself of ten minutes ago. "I was just nervous. You took me by surprise, but I do want this, Janey," he insisted. "I want… you."
She bit her lip, considering it.
Sam, unable to wait any longer, fell against her once more, eager to get back to where they'd been just moments before. He didn't want to stop. Not then.
But Janey's hands were hard against his chest in a firm sign of defiance. "No," she said hurriedly, and Sam withdrew immediately.
Janey pushed herself up onto her elbows, and Sam fought with all his might to look at her face and not her lace-clad chest. Had she put it on just for tonight, he wondered, or was that just what all bras looked like.
"Sam, you said you don't want this." Janey looked concerned, confused, and he didn't blame her.
Sam realised that her 'no' had been on his behalf and not her own, but he still wanted to check. There could be absolutely no grey areas.
"I want this, Janey," Sam insisted, almost begging. The longer he went without acting on his desires, the more his body ached. "One hundred percent. I was nervous, and unsure, but I've changed my mind. I'm saying yes," he assured her. "But if you say no, that's all that matters. I'll go home," he vowed. He just wanted to know so he could act accordingly. The wait was agony.
"Of course I want this," Janey said, almost accusatory. "But you said—"
That was all Sam needed. If her only reluctance was because she thought that's what he wanted then it was null and void. He was one hundred percent on board. Maybe he should have considered that they were still both a little drunk, despite his earlier protests, and maybe shouldn't be making decisions like that, but he felt remarkably clear-headed, and she seemed to be so too.
Janey let Sam kiss her for about a minute before once more checking with breathy excitement. "Are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything," Sam insisted, kissing her neck. He couldn't bear to not have his lips on her for one second. He almost considered trying the neck-sucking thing she'd done to him, but before he could, she had whispered in his ear once more. "Take off my bra."
Sam tried not to let his alarm show. Of course, if they were going to do this, they were going to have to be naked. Amongst the heat and passion, it had been discarded as easily as their shirts, but they were about to enter into territory never yet fully explored.
Sam pulled Janey upright once more in response, so she was straddling him again, and as he continued to kiss her, his hand reached for the clasp at her back. He felt silk, skin, lace, metal, elastic, blindly fumbling. How the hell did you undo a bra? He was starting to get frustrated with it, and with himself, paying little to no attention to the kissing anymore, cursing this complex bit of fabric that acted as a barrier to what he needed.
Janey wordlessly slipped her own hands behind her back and undid it herself in one neat movement.
The hot pink silk and lace slipped away.
Sam gulped.
He barely had time to drink in this new, exquisite sight before Janey had closed the gap between them and was kissing him once more. But this time, it was softer, more tender. Her skin was incredibly soft against his. Another wave of giddy delight twisted in Sam's stomach, more than just passionate physical desire.
Whereas he'd had zero qualms about his hands before, Sam was now once more frighteningly aware of Janey's small frame beneath him, now entirely topless. Despite the very clear green light, he did not know whether he was allowed to touch her now that the barrier of clothes had been removed. But he liked the way her chest felt pressed up against his own.
Sam lowered Janey back onto the bed, his arms able to wrap around her entire body. They were being much gentler now, neither of them quite sure how the next stages of disrobing should progress.
"Should I put on music?" Janey suddenly asked, looking flustered.
"I, uh, I don't care," Sam said truthfully, though regretted it immediately, because he had not meant to sound rude. "If that's what you want," he amended, but Janey had already seemed to dissuade the idea.
"Should I turn off the lights?"
Sam kissed her neck. "You don't have to." He just didn't want her to leave the warmth of the bed and the heat of the moment.
"Should we…?" But Janey never finished her question, leaving Sam to wonder what it was she was trying to ask.
A knot of guilt flitted into his stomach, replacing the giddiness. It felt like she was stalling. And if she was, he should probably shut the whole thing down, because it meant she was, even if she didn't realise, reluctant to proceed.
"Should we go under the covers?" Janey whispered.
Sam just looked at her with concern. "Janey, we can stop," he assured her, not answering her question.
"I don't want to," she dismissed quickly.
Sam was incredibly confused. A lot of things Janey was saying screamed yes, but a lot might have been screaming no, and he had no idea what she actually wanted. Was the hesitance just nervousness, similar to what he was feeling? Or had she changed her mind but didn't know how to stop what she'd set in motion?
If there was any question of uncertainty then they shouldn't do anything, Sam rationalised, no matter how badly he now wanted it. Even if Janey realised it was all a huge mistake and she didn't proposition him with this offer for the rest of the summer, even until the end of their seventh year, Sam knew it was the right thing to do.
Janey was moving to get beneath the vast duvet without Sam even realising. When he did, he felt a mixture of several emotions. He wanted to be able to see and marvel at her body, but, he realised, it also meant he too would be shielded by the vast cover of fabric, which was certainly more appealing than the alternative—her seeing him stark naked in all his glory. He moved to join her.
"You should take off your trousers," she whispered into his ear. God, he loved it when she did that.
But Sam still needed more. "Janey—"
"Sam, I swear to God, if you ask me if I'm sure one more time!"
"I have to check," he said in alarm.
"I've said yes—if I change my mind, I. Will. Let. You. Know." Janey was getting irritable with all the stalling, which Sam now realised he was also doing.
"Take off your trousers," she demanded.
Sam obliged. He had never felt more awkward and less seductive in all his life as he shimmied them off from beneath the covers, desperately trying not to unintentionally hit Janey as he struggled to free himself.
"I'm sorry," he awkwardly panted, knowing the apology would likely only make the situation worse. But Janey didn't look perturbed. Not outwardly anyway.
Sam felt immediate relief as some of the restrictive pressure was released.
"And your pants," Janey said, like he was a total idiot.
Sam gulped once more before performing the unflattering horizontal shuffle as he removed the one remaining item of clothing on his body. He was now entirely naked and incredibly grateful his lower body was shielded from Janey's view. Was that why she had suggested it, he wondered. Along with turning the lights off? She did not want to see his body.
Before he could fully compute what she was doing, Janey too had shimmied out of her underwear, much more gracefully than Sam had, he thought with envy. But that was to be expected. Everything she did would naturally be more graceful and seductive than anything he could ever achieve.
Both Janey and Sam were now frozen in shock, naked, beneath what was actually quite a stifling duvet, bodies awkwardly hovering inches away from each other. What now?
"You should—" Janey gulped, but once more couldn't finish her suggestion.
Sam was sweating more than he ever had in any Quidditch game and worried he must smell vile. Janey smelt like peaches.
"I—" Sam meant to lean in to kiss Janey again, still asserting the gap between their naked forms, but lost his balance and fell with a sudden motion completely on top of her.
She let out a sharp moan of pain and surprise.
"I'm so sorry," Sam apologised. "Janey, I'm—"
"Shut up," she ordered through gritted teeth, seeming annoyed.
Now that their skin was pressed together once more, Sam had another strong urge to apologise, but it caught in his throat as a pleasurable sensation shot through him again. Janey's eyes were wide as they wordlessly acknowledged the closeness between them. What he was supposed to do next was completely beyond Sam, but he felt like he was supposed to be the one taking charge as he was the one in the more dominant physical position.
Oh, God, he wished he'd had more time to prepare for this, to figure out a plan of exactly what he was going to do. All the times he'd fantasised about this, it had gone a lot smoother. And he'd had much more defined abs…
In order to prolong the awkward silence and expose his obvious inadequacy, Sam began to kiss Janey, but it seemed to have lost its spark now that they had been doing it for so long. If she felt the same though, she didn't let it show.
As Sam started to lose himself once more, he subconsciously restarted the rhythmic grinding he'd been doing before. Janey let out a distinct gasp, and Sam immediately stopped.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, and he knew why, blushing furiously. "I, um—" He felt like he needed to explain himself, but surely she knew this was what happened? That he couldn't control…?
But, Sam thought, maybe some of the shock in her expression was perhaps… excitement? Had she liked it? He certainly did. If he had thought the sensation of thrusting his body against hers had felt good before, with two layers of restrictive clothing between them, then this was entirely new levels of euphoria.
Janey's skin was the softest, smoothest sensation Sam had ever touched. Not a single hair grazed his fingertips, flooding his mind with questions once more. Was this just what women's skin was like, he wondered, suddenly very conscious of the hair that covered areas of his body? Had she done this specifically for tonight or was this just basic hygiene? He had no idea, but he suddenly wished he had shaved his entire body. It surely couldn't feel pleasurable for her.
Janey's hands lay gently on Sam's back as they continued to kiss. Sam wanted her to grip and claw at him like she had done before. Or else… maybe… move them southwards. But he daren't ask. He wondered where he was allowed to touch her, and if he had to ask or if that would ruin the moment. So instead, he did nothing but continue to hold her.
Janey was panting gently in Sam's ear, a sensation that caused him immense surprising pleasure. There was something about the soft tickle of her breath against his earlobe that drove him wild, hearing the gentle hitches in her throat as their bodies rhythmically moved against each other. He would have been content to stay like that forever, he reasoned. To not, actually, fulfil what needed to be done to be considered actual sex. Although, he failed to see how this wasn't just as pleasurable and definitive. It was only a small distinction, after all.
But Janey clearly did not view this in the same way. "You need to…" She said awkwardly, still struggling to communicate in clear terms.
But Sam understood her awkwardness. He felt uncomfortable too, finding it easier to just let their bodies do the talking.
"Oh, right, yeah," he mumbled, already out of breath. "Umm…"
He awkwardly reached down, feeling completely humiliated. This surely was not what Janey had wanted from him as a fun birthday experience? A literal virgin showing her an incredibly mediocre display of seductive incompetence. This would be an entirely one-time thing, he knew it. She was probably only going through with it out of embarrassment after realising he was no Adonis.
Sam fumbled below, accidentally hitting Janey in the thigh as he blindly groped. She winced but tried not to exclaim.
"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled, cursing himself, and then cursing himself once more for apologising.
He had no idea what the hell he was doing, but Janey gave him no direction either with her words or her body language. She was just staring at him, her expression blank.
"Should I just…?"
"Yes," she said, like he was an idiot once more, even though Sam didn't actually know what he was asking. He felt like a creep, just awkwardly holding himself beneath the covers. He wished she would take control.
"Oh my God," he suddenly realised, eyes wide.
Janey looked alarmed. "What?" She glanced down and Sam turned bright red, wondering what she'd thought had just happened.
Sam's heart was racing. "Janey, I don't have any…"
She continued to stare at him.
"You know," he pressed on awkwardly. But she looked none the wiser. "Protection."
Sam cursed himself internally. How had he let it get this far without him realising? He had ruined everything. He had never bought anything like that, had obviously never needed to, and up until tonight, had never thought it would be a necessity for a long time. If he had known, if he had any kind of time to prepare, he knew it could have been better. This entire experience, pleasurable as it had mostly been, had been humiliating.
Janey didn't look nearly as panicked as Sam felt. "It doesn't matter," she dismissed.
"You have some?" he asked in surprise, a little impressed.
"No, but it doesn't matter."
Sam frowned. "Of course it matters, Janey."
She rolled her eyes.
"Could we… could we borrow some from your dad, maybe?" Sam gulped.
Janey looked rightfully disgusted. "God, Sam, no!"
"I'll go to the shop," he offered, though he felt like as soon as he put his clothes back on, it would be over.
"No," she said firmly. "Look, Sam, it really doesn't matter."
Sam couldn't understand why Janey had taken this viewpoint at all. He knew it was uncommon for the man to be more concerned with proper safety precautions, but he would never put his pleasure above that. Why on earth would Janey? She couldn't want him that badly, surely?
"There's those spells," Sam recalled, thinking back to the brief and deeply uncomfortable sex education classes they'd had at Hogwarts. They had been separated into their houses and had the talks delivered by the Heads of Houses. Sam hadn't known whether it was the students or Neville who were more uncomfortable. Could he even remember them?
"I'll grab my wand," Sam muttered, frantically wracking his brains. He should remember; James Potter had made a dumb song about it one evening to raucous laughter in the Gryffindor Common Room. His wand must still be in his trouser pocket; if he could just recover them from the floor.
"It's fine," Janey insisted, pulling Sam's head towards her and trying to initiate snogging once more.
"Janey, stop," Sam said in disgust, refusing to let her distract him. "We have to do this!"
"We don't," she said fiercely, and when he looked at her inquisitively, said quietly, "I'm on the pill."
Sam was surprised but then immediately suspicious. "Are you really?"
A brief flicker in her eyes let him know she was considering lying. "No," she confessed. "But it doesn't matter—I'll get the morning-after pill if I need to."
Sam was deeply confused as to why Janey wasn't more concerned than he was over this. He felt like he owed it to her, to Elliot, to Neville—to everyone who had taught him that this was what he needed to do. But if she didn't mind…
Sam couldn't shake it though. "Janey, I would feel a lot more comfortable if—"
"Fine," she snapped, looking deeply irritated.
Sam was almost a little angry that she had adopted this attitude. This was for her benefit! He was being a lot more caring and gentlemanly than other guys would have been!
"Why are you upset with me?" he questioned.
"I just… don't know why you're stalling. I thought this was what you wanted."
"It is," he insisted gently. "I just want you to be comfortable."
"I'm fine, Sam, really," Janey said firmly. "I will take precautions after. Let's just get on with it now."
All the seduction and excitement seemed to have vanished from the room, and again, Sam wondered why she wanted it so badly. He was hesitant as she pulled him closer once more, vowing to himself that he would use quick reflexes to avoid doing the thing that would lead to an incredibly unwanted pregnancy, whether she wanted him to or not. But as she began to kiss him again, Sam's worries melted away as he sank back into dizzying bliss. Who cared, he reasoned. He would be quick and safe. It was fine.
"I want you so bad," Janey murmured in his ear, and Sam's insides went crazy once more. It was time to stop delaying, he realised. He had to do it.
A lot of awkward fumbling as he tried to execute the manoeuvre, and a gentle cry of surprise from Janey's lips, filled Sam with anxiety once more. "Am I hurting you?" he asked in a panic, wondering why there was so much friction and confusion. He was blind to whatever was happening as he awkwardly panted in her face, using his hands to do what he thought he was supposed to be doing. Was this normal?
"I'm fine," Janey insisted, but she was wincing. Sam couldn't judge if she would be more annoyed if he stopped or pressed on. Why was this so difficult?
It took a lot of joy out of the sensations he was now feeling. He had thought nothing could be more pleasurable than the writhing of their bodies earlier, certain that penetrative sex could not truly be that much more sensational than what they'd already been doing, but oh, God, he had been wrong. This was heights of pleasure he had not known the human body could achieve.
And it was incredibly hard to enjoy it when Janey looked so uncomfortable. Her body had stiffened beneath his, and her face conveyed nothing but displeasure. She wasn't touching him anymore. They weren't even kissing, as Sam struggled to do it whilst also focusing on what he was doing with his lower body.
"Is this okay?" he asked desperately, knowing she would find it a mood killer but also not seeing how he could possibly make it worse.
"Yes," she assured him, offering a weak smile, but her eyes still said otherwise.
Sam felt incredibly selfish.
Janey, perhaps sensing that her lack of enthusiasm was showing, started to kiss him again, and grip his back, but it lacked all the animalistic energy of before, and Sam was sure she was just going through the motions. Was this normal?—he panicked again.
Sam thrust his hips more deeply than he had meant to, lost in the sensation, and Janey let out a small whimper in his ear, but he could not be sure whether it was pleasure or pain. He could feel the sweat dripping from his body onto her, could hear his own unappealing grunts, and was furious at himself for not having agreed to put music on earlier. How was this the most intense pleasure he'd ever felt and yet also the most humiliating shame?
That wave of euphoria surged through his body once more, but it was different this time. Oh God, Sam thought, as he recognised the sensation, though never in that particular situation. No, no, no, he begged himself internally. Not yet. He was determined that Janey would enjoy herself too. He closed his eyes tight in frustration and concentrated all of his will into reversing the wave.
Sam moved his hand, and Janey let out a shriek. He opened his eyes in panic.
"My hair," she gasped, and Sam realised he had leant on it, pulling at her scalp in agony.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled once more, feeling like an idiot. "Janey, I—maybe we should stop."
"No," she said fiercely, gritting her teeth. "Keep going—it's fine."
But Sam was finally taking control. He rolled off of her ungracefully, the sheets getting awkwardly tangled in his feet. His skin stuck to the bed in a gross pool of sweat, and he was panting heavily. He bet James never looked like this, and then he cursed at himself for comparing himself to James Potter once more.
Janey just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, no emotions on her face.
"I'm sorry," Sam said once more, but she said nothing.
Sam's body ached, and his pleasure was quickly fading. Maybe it was for the best. Janey clearly hadn't been having a good time, and no matter how good it felt for him, it would have been mortifying for that wave of pleasure to have… crashed. There was an element of physical discomfort, but he knew it would pass. That was probably the worst experience of losing one's virginity to ever have occurred, he thought bitterly. Could it even be considered that, given that neither of them had actually…?
They lay in an awkward sweaty silence. Sam's clothes were on the side of the bed furthest from him, completely out of reach. "I should go," he mumbled, wondering whether Janey was ever going to speak to him. He had surely ruined her birthday.
"It's late," she eventually said, still not looking at him.
Sam had managed to pull one of the bed sheets free from the mattress and up around his waist like they did in the movies and was clumsily struggling to remove himself from the vast bed without flashing Janey. He considered simply fleeing like that and just leaving his clothes (and his dignity) behind.
"You don't have to go," Janey insisted, sitting up, clutching the duvet to her chest so she too was modest. "You can stay the night—it's fine."
Sam hoped she was only offering to be polite and didn't actually want him to stay, because in that moment, he longed to be as far away from her as possible. "My mum will worry," he mumbled, knowing he couldn't possibly sound like even more of a loser. "And your dad will be home in the morning," he reminded her. He would never be able to look Mr Davington in the eye if that day were ever to come.
Janey conceded. She said nothing more as Sam grabbed at his strewn clothes. He blushed as he saw the discarded hot pink bra. "Happy birthday, Janey," he said almost spitefully as he headed for the door, though he didn't know why. She hadn't done anything wrong.
"Sam," she called quietly after him, but he was gone, still clad in the sheet with his armful of clothes. He would have to return it tomorrow, but he would deal with it in the future. There was no way he was going to dress in front of her.
"Sam," he heard her call sadly once more, but he was already gone.
Author's Note: Title and epigraph inspired by Miley Cyrus' '#GETITRIGHT'