Author's Note: M rating for language and sexual content

Chapter 26 – Not Fair

You know I've never met a man
Who's made me feel quite so secure
He's not like all them other boys
They're all so dumb and immature

There's just one thing that's getting in the way…

Janey was, once again, mortified by her own daring. It was the morning after she'd invited Sam round for one thing and treated him to something entirely different, surprising them both. She had been completely horrified once she'd realised her period had returned with a vengeance, certain she was being punished by some cosmic force for wanting to explore her sexuality. She had so carefully prepared herself for that evening's scheduled activities, both mentally and physically, only for it all to have been thrown into chaos by her damned menstrual cycle.

It had been horrifying enough having to explain to Sam why they now wouldn't be engaging in the thing she'd specifically invited him round for, having never discussed her delightful monthly guest with anybody other than her female roommates. But then, as things had escalated further than she'd ever consciously decided, the evening had certainly taken an unexpected and embarrassing turn into boundaries previously uncrossed. It was like she'd been in a trance, encouraged by how much enjoyment Sam had been experiencing from her touch.

She wasn't really sure what had possessed her to do it in the first place. She had gotten lost in the moment, enjoying the temporary relief that the snogging had provided, and as her hand had trailed down his body, savouring every gentle sensation of his bare skin on her fingertips, she had simply not stopped, his immense pleasure at her touch urging her on.

Curiosity had driven her more than anything. She wanted to know what it would feel like, and knowing he couldn't exactly reciprocate anything for her, Janey realised she pretty much had a free pass to touch him however she should like, without Sam feeling the obligation to touch her back. It wasn't that she didn't also crave that, eventually, but Janey was hungry for something only he could give her. Which was, in essence, his reaction to her giving him something only she could give him.

She liked seeing the way he reacted, blissfully euphoric, knowing that it was caused entirely by her. She loved having that control, that power over him—the ability to grant him unimaginable heights of pleasure. In a way, that turned her on more than having him touch her back did.

But once the reality of what she'd been doing had come crashing in, Janey had reverted back to immediate self-conscious embarrassment. She hadn't drunk nearly enough for her to not have been painfully aware of the awkward atmosphere they'd been left in once the trance had been broken, and hadn't really known how to address what she'd just done.

God, she groaned internally. Why did she keep doing this? Pushing boundaries and getting carried away in the moment without really thinking it through. She clearly didn't know what she was doing, having never ventured to those places before with other guys. Although, if Jinx was to be believed, she didn't think that was entirely due to her own resistance, but more so the enforced charms Hogwarts emitted.

It had been kind of arousing, Janey recalled, some of her initial embarrassment subsiding as she reflected on the experience, having Sam tell her what to do—what was working, what he had liked—and his eager responses once she adapted. He hadn't seemed as awkward as before, perhaps because he hadn't really had to do much besides lie there and enjoy it. But despite his feeble last-minute warnings, she should have realised sooner that there would have been consequences to her actions. Results.

Given that they hadn't gotten there that first night together, because Sam had cut it short and left before he had the chance, Janey had kind of forgotten that this was the obvious outcome. In the moment, it had been mortifying, but now that Janey looked back, the fact that she had been able to achieve that by touch alone made her feel like a goddess. It was just the shock of it all.

And really, she knew it was nothing special, and most guys probably required very little encouragement to have done what Sam had done, but for Janey, it was her first foray into anything of the sort, and it filled her with further daring. A further hunger to explore.

This time she waited for a full forty-eight hours before she invited him round again, just to make sure.

Sam had been more than keen.

Janey didn't hang around this time. She didn't offer him dinner, or wine, or much in the way of a 'hello' before she was dragging him upstairs, both of their bodies fuelled by adrenaline, judgement clouded by desire.

"I didn't think you'd want me to come round again," Sam panted, as Janey desperately unbuttoned his shirt, in between furiously kissing.

"What, why?" Janey asked, confused, but not enough to stop what she was doing.

"You seemed, uh, surprised," he said delicately, and Janey knew what he was referring to.

They had spoken over the phone over the past couple of days but hadn't really discussed their sexual exploits from their last meetup. Janey realised she had been a little abrupt in her dismissal of Sam, but it's only because she hadn't really known how to address what had just happened between them and thought ignoring it and burying it away would be for the best.

"I'd never done that before," Janey confessed, now having freed Sam from his shirt and discarding it on the floor with a flourish. God, he was hot. And unlike James, he didn't seem to know it, which, to Janey, made him even hotter. Something about the broadness of his shoulders, and the upper arms that didn't look outwardly excessively impressive but were solid to the touch. Her eyes travelled down to his hands with a thirst. She wanted him to put his hands on every inch of skin covering her body.

Sam gulped, eyeing her still fully-clothed body. "Neither had I."

Janey raised her eyebrows. "I'd have assumed not."

"I meant," he insisted, now blushing, "I'd never had anyone, uh, do that to me before."

She cocked her head, refusing to believe it. "You've never…?"

"Somebody else," he snapped.

Janey grinned. She liked that she had been the first. "And how did it compare?" she purred, pulling his bare torso towards her so she could run her hands over his chest.

Sam gulped again, clearly unsure where he should be putting his own hands, much to Janey's frustration. "Well, you, uhh, certainly demonstrated expertise in that, umm, area."

Janey stared at him. Why did he have to ruin the mood by saying dumb things? She supposed dirty talk was not really his forte. But then again, when would he have ever been able to practise? She, for one, loved whispering filthy things to guys, seeing them get all hot and bothered. If only those broom cupboards could talk.

Janey brought Sam's mouth down to hers with a gentle pull of the hair at the back of his head, and he groaned in surprise but seemed eager enough. This was better, she thought. He couldn't talk if he was kissing.

Janey realised she was still fully clothed, but she longed to further undress Sam. With graceful expertise, she undid the fly of his jeans and, together, still furiously snogging, they manoeuvred him out of them completely. Sam seemed to be so absorbed in the sensations of Janey gripping at his now almost fully-nude body as they continued to kiss, his tongue probing every crevice of her mouth possible, that he didn't realise he was hardly reciprocating with his hands at all.

To save time, Janey decided to take matters, literally, into her own hands. And soon enough, she too had shimmied out of her clothes, standing before him in nothing but her carefully selected matching set.

Sam allowed a moment for his eyes to roll over her body, drinking in the sight before him with deep appreciation, before he placed a hand either side of her head and hungrily pulled her mouth back towards his.

Janey loved whenever he took charge, grabbing at her, maybe getting a little rough, but he so rarely did, gentle and reserved as he was. Driven by her own passion, she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, feeling the gentle trail of hair that snaked down beneath his belly button as she did so, with far more confidence than she had the first time.

Now she knew what to expect—or so she thought.

She felt the breath hitch in Sam's throat as she wrapped her hand around him, this time knowing how much pressure she should exert. He stirred at her touch, like it was a living, breathing thing, and it took everything in Janey not to squeal in shock.

Janey disguised her startled naivety by running her hand over him, allowing the solid presence to form beneath her fingers.

Sam emitted a small sound of pleasure at her touch, and Janey couldn't help but smile, feeling confident, feeling desirable.

It was a different dynamic, them being stood up this time, rather than lying down together on the sofa, the height difference more noticeable. Sam seemed paralysed by Janey's touch, no longer reciprocating her kissing, his hands still clasped either side of her head. She wanted him to move them south, to grip at her body, to pull her closer to him, to touch her skin—to do anything really—but it was clear he was preoccupied.

Janey removed her hand, placing them on his hips instead. She let her thumbs hook into the waistband of his boxers, making it clear she intended to remove them.

Sam suddenly looked panicked, being brought back to reality with cold abruptness. He ran his hands down over her shoulders, down her arms, and settled on her hands, holding them so she couldn't progress. As he'd done so, she'd felt the prickle of the hairs rising with every inch he'd progressed down her body.

"Can we go under the covers?" he whispered to her, almost apologetically.

"Oh," Janey said, surprised. There was little Sam had said 'no' to when it had come to their physical explorations, but he was setting a clear boundary there, and Janey felt almost guilty for assuming it was something he would have been okay with.

But she understood. Despite the fact that she had felt it all now, in several ways, he was not comfortable with her seeing him naked.

"Of course," she said softly, encouragingly. And she walked backwards towards the bed, pulling him along with her.

She fell onto the bed with a cushioned thud and Sam clambered atop her with a sense of caring concern, like he didn't want to hurt her. They resumed kissing, still atop the covers, but it was much more reserved than previously, with deep, lingering kisses in place of desperate, animalistic hunger. She could feel the pressure of his body pushing against her thigh, and it stirred up a feeling akin to giddiness at the base of her stomach.

Janey was longing to undo the clasp of her bra, the wire painfully digging into her ribcage, but she was worried that, if Sam didn't want her to see him naked, perhaps he wouldn't want to see her naked too. Or more so, because that seemed like a bit of a stretch, he would think her brazenly revealing herself in all her glory to him would be some kind of encouragement for him to do the same, like she was goading him.

Sam pulled his lips away, leaving Janey in breathless surprise. He took a moment to brush the hair away from her face, allowing his hand to remain cradling her cheek, and stared at her intently, their eyes locking together in a moment of shared tenderness. No words were spoken, but Janey had never felt so close to anybody else before. She'd never felt so appreciated, so safe. She tried to search for meaning in Sam's expression, but he was hard to read. His eyes were shining, a slight smile playing on his lips. He looked nervous, but with an eager anticipation. And he looked… appreciative, Janey thought. Content.

Before she could wonder too much, Sam placed a gentle kiss onto her lips. He then repeated this action just below her chin. And then at the base of her neck, garnering her particular pleasure. He placed one more on her clavicle and seemed to linger, as though wondering if he should progress any further.

Yes, Janey wanted to urge him. She wanted him to shower her in kisses, to trail them even further down her body, but it was clear that he wasn't going to, and if he hadn't taken this initiative himself then she felt she couldn't ask him to do so.

Sam looked nervous once more, like he wasn't sure what he should do next in order to progress it to the next stage, and Janey understood that this meant the foreplay was over now. She felt nervous herself. Obviously, this was what she wanted, but it had been so easy up to that point, just like it had been last time. It was this next stage that put them both out of their depth.

"Wait," Janey said, even though Sam had made no effort to do anything whatsoever. She clambered for her wand, which she had left on her bedside table. Calmly, and without explanation, she used it to lower the lights in the room to a romantic dim.

Sam seemed to appreciate this. "Should we, err do the spells?" he suggested, eyeing the wand nervously.

"Oh, yeah."

Sam looked embarrassed as he removed himself from atop her body to search for his own wand amongst the clothes carelessly strewn on the floor. Once he'd located it, in mutual awkwardness, they recited their respective contraceptive spells. Janey placed her wand back on the bedside table when she was finished, unsure if she had even done it right. She didn't feel any different whatsoever, but she didn't think she was supposed to. Oh God, how could she know it had actually been successful? Was it sensible to risk it?

Sam turned his head to look at her from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his face flushed red with heat. "Should I, umm, put on…?"

He didn't say the word, but Janey knew what he meant. "Oh," she said, her own face flushing. "Yeah, of course. If you want."

The spells should have been more than enough—if they had actually executed them correctly—but using Muggle protection couldn't hurt too, and after how dismissive she'd been last time, she wanted Sam to feel as comfortable as possible.

"Okay," he agreed.

Janey politely averted her gaze as Sam fumbled amongst the clothes on the floor once more. She knew he would not want her to help, or even watch, so she made it obvious that she was giving him the space to do this on his own. As the seconds stretched out, and she heard the tearing of a foil packet, Janey felt deep curiosity. Had Sam ever done this before?—she wondered. Obviously not this—not with anyone other than herself—but did he know how to use protection? Had he researched? Asked someone? Maybe Elliot, whom she knew had gifted it to him in the first place. Had he practised?

"Okay," Sam said again after a while, letting Janey know he was done.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself both physically and mentally as she sank back down into the middle of the bed, this time arranging the duvet so her body was beneath. This wouldn't have been her choice at all, given that it was already muggy enough in the summer air, but it had been Sam's only request, and she respected the reasons why.

He looked nervous once more as he turned back to her, clambering beneath the covers too. Realising he wasn't going to take the initiative himself, no matter how much she wished he would, Janey removed her own underwear and discarded it on the floor, both of them now fully naked. Their bodies were hidden from view, touch alone guiding them.

Janey felt very small beneath Sam, just like last time, feeling even more stifled due to the weight of the duvet, but she tried to relax. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she pulled his head towards her once more, initiating more tentative kissing than before but hoping it would relieve some of the tension.

And it did.

As they melted back into the ease of kissing each other, a calming distraction, Janey was able to allow herself to enjoy the other sensations she could feel. Now completely free from their clothes, that desirable feeling of skin against skin could be felt all over their bodies. She gripped at Sam's broad back, letting her nails dig into him ever so slightly, which he seemed to enjoy. His hips started to move, gently thrusting against her own in a rhythm that matched their snogging, that solid presence still digging into her thigh.

She wondered if this was intentional or if he had no clue their lower bodies weren't properly aligned. It was difficult to do so when they were kissing, given that he was so much taller than her.

Janey decided to take it upon herself to correct things rather than point it out to him. Shifting beneath his weight, she angled her lower body to where it needed to be, and the immediate pleasure she felt as his body dug into hers was so much that she unintentionally let out a soft whimper.

Sam looked thrilled by this, and perhaps with a surge of confidence, he moved his right hand down her body to grab at her chest as he continued to grind against her.

Okay, Janey thought eagerly, now they were getting somewhere. Their brief interlude had seemed to strike Sam with nerves, but now he was losing himself again. He was getting more daring, more adventurous.

"Should I—?"

"Yes," Janey breathed before he could even finish his sentence. Because as fun as it was, she wanted them to be fully intimate. That was the point, after all.

Sam ceased what he was doing in order to fumble below.

Janey recalled exactly how this had gone down the night of her birthday and braced herself. Despite the awkwardness, and the mild disagreements, it had generally been fine up until the point of penetration. It was then that they'd both felt out of their depth. It had been then that Janey had ceased to feel pleasure and only painful discomfort. But she hoped that now, because this time she was prepared, it would be different.

Even so, she steadied her breath and braced her body.

Looking like he was concentrating deeply, Sam pushed into her body.

Or, at least, he tried.

Janey felt the pressure on her thigh once more, and was surprised when Sam continued to kiss her, thrusting against her body as before. She gave him the benefit of the doubt for five seconds or so before she broke away.

"It, err, it didn't go in," she said awkwardly, her voice low.

Sam looked dazed. "What?"

God, Janey did not want to have to say it again—it was awkward enough that he didn't seem to realise.

"It didn't," she repeated, feeling humiliated, "go, err, in."

Sam looked mortified, reaching beneath the covers once more and presumably realising she was right.

"Oh," he said uncomfortably. And without either of them saying anything, he tried again. Sam was a little more hesitant this time, carefully probing the outside of her body, which, Janey had to admit, felt rather nice. Once he was satisfied, with a gentle thrust of his hips, he pushed inside her.

This time, there could be no doubt.

Janey let out a gasp. It was hard not to.

"Are you okay?" Sam immediately asked, worry and concern flitting into his eyes.

Janey just nodded furiously, because she wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't exactly like it was painful, it was just more so great discomfort, and she had no idea why. Was this normal?—she wondered, just as she had that first night. She had thought, perhaps, because it had been her first time, her body simply wasn't used to the new intrusion, but it didn't feel any better that time around.

The same could clearly not be said for Sam, whose ecstatic pleasure at what they were doing was obvious. He was breathing heavily in her ear, too preoccupied to attempt kissing anymore. Janey awkwardly ran her hands down his back, urging him on, hoping it might distract her from her own discomfort.

Is this really what sex was like? Had everything she'd ever thought to be true just been one massive coverup—the biggest kept secret womankind had ever shared? No, Janey thought, female pleasure was real, she knew it. But then, why couldn't she experience it then?

She wondered if she had some kind of weird predisposition—an aversion to sex that she knew must be real. But it wasn't like she didn't feel things at all. All the kissing, and touching, and grinding. God, even just the act of turning him on made Janey's body surge with delight. It was just that it all seemed to dissipate at the point of penetration.

Indeed, all those sensations that had driven her crazy before, his breath in her ear, his skin against hers, now all just seemed like it was happening to her body whilst she watched from above. There were no more tingling sensations, no more aching in her body fuelled by adrenaline and desire.

"Janey," Sam murmured in a low groan.

She thought he might have been trying to communicate something to her, but Janey realised Sam had said her name as some kind of vocal emission of appreciation. That in itself made her feel good, but not quite enough to distract her mind from the discomfort.

She blushed as she considered something, but just as easily dismissed it. True, she didn't have any experience in that area, and nothing to compare it to, but she didn't think it was like Sam was abnormally large in that respect. She was more than happy with what she'd felt, and was certain if he ever actually let her look at his body, she'd be more than appreciative, but he was very well-proportioned for his height it seemed.

So was it her body that was the problem? That would actually make a lot of sense, she realised, given that she was the one who seemingly couldn't enjoy it—rather than her brief consideration that all of womankind were lying. Maybe it was a problem for short girls? And yet, Jinx hadn't seemed to suggest she ever experienced anything like this.

Janey was racking her brains when she was brought sharply back to reality. Sam was picking up his pace, thrusting into her with such speed that she very much couldn't ignore it, moaning lightly in her ear.

Janey felt smothered, still dissociating from a body she felt like was merely being used as a vessel for somebody else's pleasure. It wasn't Sam's fault, she assured herself, and she was happy he was having a good time. She just wished she could be enjoying it as much as he could—like she had been before.

With the increase in speed, the displeasure was also ramping up, and as much as she knew she'd be embarrassed, Janey thought she wouldn't be able to tolerate it much longer and would have to ask him to stop. Which she knew he would do so obediently and immediately.

But something else was happening.

"Janey," Sam gasped again, but this time it wasn't one of contentment. There was panic in his voice, warning, and she recognised it from when they'd been fooling around on the sofa.

"Already?" Janey asked, surprised, and then immediately felt bad when she saw the look on Sam's face.

He looked flustered, embarrassed, but like there was nothing he could do about it. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

"Oh, no," Janey said. They had only been going for about five minutes, and though she'd had the intention of pushing on, she was a little relieved she wouldn't need to. And, in fact, the confirmation that Sam was close to the edge once more, for the first time since they'd started doing this, made her body stir with slight, curious desire.

"I can, err—" Sam attempted to say, but he was panting so hard that it was difficult for him to communicate anything coherent.

Janey wound a hand into his hair, pulling his head towards her. "It's okay," she whispered in his ear, a low purr, now feeling urged on again. She could feel, immediately, what this did to him, his body letting out an excited shiver.

He smelt good, Janey thought, focusing on that. Kind of earthy, masking the sweat pooling from his body. She hoped she smelt good to him too.

"Oh, Janey," he whispered, and she wondered if he knew what him saying her name did to her.

"It's okay," she murmured again in her most seductive voice, wanting to help him reach that pinnacle. She was curious to know what it would feel like inside her. She allowed a shaky breath to release into his ear before saying, knowing it would send him over the edge, "I want you to."

And he did.

It seemed to crash through him in waves, his body shuddering atop her, and as he did so, he said her name in that same strangled gasp as he had done on the sofa, like it was completely involuntary.

Janey bit her lip to stop from laughing, but she very much appreciated this quirk of his.

As Sam collapsed on her and rolled to the side, allowing an arm to stay draped around her shoulders, the discomfort immediately subsided. It hadn't felt any different, really, Janey realised, but she had barely been focusing on herself, so intrigued by Sam's body's impulses as she had been.

"Fuck," he said appreciatively, still struggling for breath.

Janey nestled into his side, once more enjoying the comfort of his skin against hers now that there was no pressure and expectation. He ran a hand down the side of her arm, and Janey ran a finger over his chest in absentminded circles. The two lay like that in silence for a while whilst Sam recovered his breath. He was very noticeably sweaty, Janey realised, but she supposed he had done most of the work. She had barely exerted herself, and she was suddenly worried that's why she hadn't enjoyed it as much as he had. Maybe she was supposed to have been a bit more proactive, but it was hard when she was pinned beneath his body.

Sam turned his head to look at Janey, eyes swimming with adoration and then guilt. "I'm sorry," he apologised before Janey could tell him not to.

She rolled her eyes. "Sam," she said lightly, "I told you to."

"No," he mumbled, blushing, "I mean… I'm sorry it didn't, err, last very long."

"Oh." Janey didn't think that telling him she was grateful it had actually only lasted five mere minutes would be appreciated, so she didn't. "I'm pretty sure it's more than normal," she said kindly.

"I thought I would have more stamina." His breathing had just about evened out again. "What with all the Quidditch."

"Well, we don't normally do that at Quidditch practice," Janey said, her voice light and teasing.

Sam laughed, still holding her tenderly. Janey felt so comfortable in that moment that she forgot they were both still completely naked. He turned to look at her once more, his expression conveying slight apprehension. "Did you… enjoy it?" he asked.

"Sure," Janey said quickly, hoping he couldn't tell she was lying.

"But you didn't…?"

"Oh," Janey said, realisation dawning about what he was asking her. "Well…"

Sam looked dissuaded, his suspicions confirmed. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I feel incredibly selfish."

"We'll practise," Janey assured him, though in truth she wasn't sure how enduring it again would suddenly make it better for her. But maybe that really was the key—perseverance and experience. Surely it could only get better?

"God, you're incredible," was all he said in response, and Janey smiled to herself.

A few moments of blissful silence passed, each of them content just to hold the other. Sam was so quiet that Janey thought he might have fallen asleep. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, wondering how long they could stay like that. She considered, if she offered, if he would stay the night with her.

"What do you want to do now?" Janey asked instead. Unlike last time, they were still in the early hours of the evening, and Janey didn't want him to leave her just yet.

Sam, misunderstanding, looked alarmed and apologetic as he said, "Janey, I really don't think I have the stamina to go again."

She turned to peer up at him like he was deluded. "That's not what I meant," she insisted. "I was thinking more along the lines of dinner?"

"Oh." Sam looked embarrassed but relieved. "Dinner would be nice."

They both seemed to realise, at the same time, that they were still naked, their clothes muddled together in a pile on the floor. As far as Janey was aware, Sam hadn't even removed the only thing he had been wearing, and, realising this, felt a little grossed out.

"I'm, uh, gonna go to the bathroom," he said quickly, like he knew what was on her mind.

Janey averted her gaze as Sam removed himself from the bed, gathered up his clothes and hurried towards her en suite. Unable to resist, she snuck a peek just as he reached the door, admiring the surprisingly smooth pertness of his bum.

As the door clicked behind him, she supposed she should take the opportunity to redress herself. She eyed the black lace she had discarded on the floor and felt a pang of annoyance that Sam hadn't appreciated it more. Realising there was no point putting it back on, which she had only done ten minutes before he'd arrived, she put on clean, far less seductive underwear, covering up just as Sam reappeared, now fully clothed.

Janey smoothed the duvet out, wondering if she was supposed to wash the sheets every time she and Sam, well, used them. As she did so, something caught her eye, which she hadn't noticed nor physically been aware of before—a slight bloodstain on the sheet.

She immediately grabbed for her wand, intending to use Scourgify.

Sam looked alarmed by her action. "What happened?"

"Oh, it's fine," Janey said calmly. "Just a bit of blood." She had known that might happen, and in a way, it made her feel normal.

But Sam looked distressed by the revelation. "Oh my God, did I hurt you?" he asked in horror.

"No, Sam," Janey said calmly, after she had cast the spell and removed any traces of blood. The sheet was as white as before. "It just means you broke my hymen," she said in amusement, knowing this was only going to freak him out further.

It did. "I broke—what?"

"Geez, they should really go into more depth about this at Hogwarts. It's normal," she assured him. "It's what happens the first time. Girls at my Muggle school used to talk about it. Someone's older sister swore they snapped it from riding a horse, but she'd always had a bit of a slutty reputation."

Sam still looked like he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Congratulations," Janey said slyly. "It means you've officially taken my virginity."

Sam blushed, but the look of concern didn't leave his face. "Did it hurt?"

"No," Janey said quickly, assuming she was referring to her hymen breaking rather than the entire act of taking her virginity. Although, as much as she joked about it, archaic talks of virginity kind of annoyed her. It was just a natural progression of life, and given that she and Sam had already done some pretty intimate things together, she didn't view this particular time as any monumental occasion to dwell on. She was rather hoping to bury it as one of many (hopefully way more pleasurable) experiences she would share with him over the course of their relationship.

But it was interesting, she thought, what the blood seemed to indicate. Maybe, she thought hopefully, that was why it had felt so uncomfortable, and next time she would be able to feel the pleasure she knew she should.

Janey could sense that Sam was wanting to continue the conversation and affirm she was okay, and that he hadn't damaged her in any kind of way, and decided to steer the conversation away.

"Katya will be gone," Janey told him, "but we can order in."

Sam looked delighted by this suggestion, easing up. "That sounds great. Do you want me to pay?" he then asked, looking hesitant.

"Obviously not," Janey scoffed, offended that he would even think she would expect that of him. "That's what this is for." She dug a sleek black credit card out of her bag. Her dad didn't give her an allowance. Instead, when she had turned eight, and her mum had left, leaving her dad her sole guardian, he had given her the credit card, allowing her to spend whatever she wanted and paying it off himself without question. Since she'd started at Hogwarts, she'd had far less opportunity to abuse this perk.

Sam looked impressed and grateful.

"We could watch a film," Janey suggested.

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Is that a euphemism? Because last time we 'watched a film'—"

"I meant for real!" Janey snorted.

Sam grinned, making his way back across the room towards her. "That sounds perfect," he said, wrapping his arms around her. Janey nestled into the warmth of his hoodie, which now smelt like the cologne he had clearly been wearing. She wondered if she could steal this one too.

As they walked towards the door, headed for the luxury of the vast off-white sofa in a more civilised setting than last time, Sam couldn't help but ask, "If we're actually going to watch the film, can we watch Star Wars this time?"

The next night, when Sam came over once more, they wasted no time in getting down to business again. He seemed in even more of a frantic rush to get her into bed than last time, and Janey was more than happy to meet his enthusiasm. She was painfully aware that they were running out of time. No matter how perhaps not so idyllic it had been so far, the thought of them going back to Hogwarts and being restricted from doing anything of the sort for an entire year, seemed like torture.

They spent far less time easing into it, Janey realised, a little startled, as Sam led her towards her own bed. She had done a couple of shots before he'd arrived to give her some courage, and was certainly grateful for the way it urged her on. But where Sam had previously hesitated, perhaps because he had been tentative to progress, he no longer did. There was far less time dedicated to kissing, to lingering touches, to warming themselves up to prepare.

Janey very much enjoyed the sensations of him running his hands over her body, of them undressing each other, of winding her hands into his hair and feeling their mutual arousal grow together, but it was clear what, exactly, Sam was most keen for, and she supposed she couldn't blame him.

It seemed that now they had crossed that mental barrier and progressed to where they had now physically gone, there was no awkward tentativeness delaying them from going straight back there. Janey cursed herself. It was as though she had now forfeited all the little things she liked to do—that brought her the most pleasure—to jump immediately to the thing that brought Sam the most pleasure.

And it wasn't his fault, Janey reasoned, because he probably didn't even realise it wasn't just as good for her as it was for him. It should have been just as good for her, right? There was clearly just something wrong with her, but she'd be mortified if she had to confess this, given that she had been the one to so push for them to be sexually active.

Janey knew if she told Sam that she wanted to slow down then he would immediately oblige, but she couldn't bring herself to do it, desperate to please him as she was. And she supposed she was keen to test her theory—that it had only been so far as uncomfortable as it had been because her hymen hadn't yet broken.

Despite now having had sex twice (or at least one-and-a-half times), Sam was no more dignified in the art of lovemaking, still awkwardly fumbling, still profusely apologising, still leaning on her hair and unintentionally elbowing her in the ribs, but Janey gritted her teeth and chose to ignore it all. He was going to get better, she assured herself.

As Janey lay beneath him, one hand halfheartedly running down his spine as he panted in her ear, she realised her theory had been wrong. It was frustrating. Every now and again, she would feel a mild tingle of pleasure, but just as soon as she was aware of it, it had slipped away, and all she could think about was her broad, sweaty boyfriend exerting himself atop her.

The discomfort she had felt previously was still very much present. She tried to distract herself, commanding her body to relax, because she was sure that the more she thought about how tense she was, the worse it got. But as much as Janey tried to dissociate and lose herself in it, she just kept refocusing on the less-than-pleasurable sensations she was feeling and wondering how much longer it would take.

She felt the shift in Sam's body before he even said anything. "Janey," he panted warily, instantly re-sparking her interest in what they were doing.

Well, she supposed, it had lasted at least a couple more minutes that time. Not that it had really done much for her anyway.

Janey grasped either side of his head, kissing him deeply, encouraging him. As he lightly moaned, which stirred something at the base of her stomach, she considered whether she should fake it. She supposed she could emit a gentle moan too, or force her breath out in ragged shudders to give the illusion that she was just as into it as him.

But before Janey could further weigh up whether this would be a good idea or not, it was too late anyway.

"Janey."

Janey smiled to herself as Sam gasped her name, the wave of shudders ripping through his body again. It was certainly the most enjoyable part of the experience for her—to be that desirable, to feel that much control over someone else's pleasure.

As he collapsed on top of her and Janey awkwardly patted him on the back, it felt like an exact repeat of what had happened the night before. She wondered if that was what it would always be like. A monotonous cycle for the rest of her life.

Well, she thought bitterly, this was what you wanted.

Sam, as usual, looked torn between great relief and great embarrassment as he rolled to her side.

"That was better, right?" he asked after a while, slowly regaining his breath and looking desperate for reassurance.

"Yeah," Janey lied, rolling into his outstretched arm and inhaling that musky post-coital scent.

Sam didn't look at all uplifted by her words, staring up at the ceiling in a trance.

"But you, err… ?"

Janey felt herself blushing. If he needed to ask her every time, it should have been deathly apparent that it wasn't happening for her, she thought a little resentfully. But she kept her tone kind and reassuring as she said, "Not, err, quite."

Not even remotely close.

Sam for sure wasn't buying it. He turned his head to look at her. "I could…" He placed a suggestive hand on her bare hip beneath the covers, both of them reminded of their evening on the sofa. But he had turned as red as Janey knew she herself was, both of them knowing Sam didn't really know what it was he was offering.

"No, no, it's fine," Janey said a little too quickly. She very much didn't want his hands on her body anymore. The moment had well and truly passed, and it was for sure to be more of an embarrassing failure for Sam to attempt anything he wasn't familiar with.

Sam looked truly deflated. "I'm sorry, Janey. I'm… I'm trying. It's just—"

Janey really didn't want to have this conversation. "It's fine," she said, cutting him off. "You're fine," she assured, offering a kind smile.

He looked only mildly uplifted by her words. But then dropped into a frown once more. "I just—I want you to enjoy it too," he said, his tone sulky. "I want to make you feel how you make me feel."

Janey wasn't sure what she could possibly say to encourage him, and wasn't even sure if his statement was rhetorical. To distract him, she linked her fingers through his on the hand that wasn't wrapped around her body. "Are you looking forward to the Potters' barbecue?" she asked, choosing to steer the conversation away for both of their sakes.

James and Albus' parents were hosting a family barbecue the following week. It was an annual tradition for the Potter-Weasleys' enormous family, with a lot of their good friends invited too, such as Professor Longbottom and the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Rose had invited the Gryffin-Girls around the summer it had been hosted at her house, and James had taken it upon himself to invite their entire group that year too.

Janey was looking forward to it, having never been to the Potters' house before, and she always loved when they got to hang out in a big group. It would possibly be, she realised with sudden sorrow, one of, if not the last time they would all be together again before returning to Hogwarts for their Seventh Year.

"I am, yeah," Sam said. "Though it will be strange seeing everyone we were with in Rosewood in a far less… exciting setting."

Exciting was one word for it, Janey mused. She had overlapped very little with the likes of Harry Potter and his extended family over the years she'd been friends with the Potter boys, but she could now say she'd fought alongside them, if not actually shared a conversation.

And it would be good to see all of Rose's cousins again, she thought too, as a lot of them were in other houses or had already left the school, so she didn't get to overlap with them much.

"And then we'll be back to Hogwarts," Sam said, his tone bittersweet.

"Are you not looking forward to going back?" Janey asked in surprise.

Sam paused before answering. "I am," he confirmed, "but I'll miss this." He pulled her closer to him, their bare skin still pressed together. To Janey, it felt more intimate than even what they'd previously been doing.

"Lying in bed with a naked girl?" Janey teased, because she'd be damned if she ever conveyed any ounce of sentimentality, no matter how she was feeling on the inside.

She felt rather than saw Sam roll his eyes.

"I meant being alone with you," he insisted. "In whatever state of dress."

"We can still be alone," Janey considered. "We'll have Prefect meetings and Quidditch practice." But even as she said it, she realised she was listing purely group activities. "We'll make time," she said firmly.

"Promise?" Sam asked.

Janey didn't like making promises, because she didn't like feeling obliged to keep them. "Promise," she vowed.

For a few silent minutes, they just lay there like that, not a word passing between their lips but holding each other's embrace in a tender, stolen moment, which they knew they might not get to experience for much longer.

Janey was contemplative and hoped Sam couldn't sense what was on her mind. She felt very conflicted about the situation. Sam was so perfect, she couldn't help but think. In spite of his flaws—his short temper, his awkwardness, his insistence on dumb things like 'romance' and 'communication', and his sometimes lack of complete sense when it came to acting like a normal human being. But she had never been with a guy like him before. She had never insisted on staying with someone even after the first cracks had begun to show. Had never wanted to stay with someone in spite of those cracks.

And she knew she was being unreasonable anyway. What was Sam's biggest crime? That he cared for her too much? That he was too sweet, too kind, too concerned for her comfort and wellbeing?

It's just that all those things that made him so wonderful now felt marred by this unshakeable negative aspect of their physical relationship.

Janey felt beyond selfish for even being disappointed with the one thing that seemed like the biggest obstacle for them, and it was her fault that this obstacle had even been uncovered in the first place. It wasn't like time would have changed anything though, she rationalised. If they had waited until next summer, for example, it wasn't like Sam would have suddenly gained any kind of sexual experience to counteract how unpractised he currently was.

But when she thought about what Jinx had said, about how it had been so good with Deneb because he had been so experienced, and even with Albireo, because they had known each other so well, so intimately already, it was hard not to feel like something was missing. Would time and experience really improve anything? How would the length of time they spent together suddenly grant Sam skills he didn't already possess, she thought bitterly.

It was plain and simple. Sam was bad at sex.

Janey had to consider, though, whether this was a dealbreaker. Could she live without it?—she wondered. She supposed she had so far, but then again, she'd never necessarily felt the desire for it before then. And she'd have to sacrifice it for the rest of the school year anyway, because once they were back inside those castle walls, they were sentenced.

This thought, more than anything, seemed to settle Janey's nerves. Once they set foot back at school in three weeks time, it wouldn't have to be a worry at all. That would be next-summer-Janey's problem.

Janey relaxed into Sam's embrace, now feeling somewhat content.

"You're amazing," Sam murmured, breathing it into the hair on top of her head.

Janey didn't reply, because she rarely did. But she appreciated the sentiment, and she hoped Sam knew, without the need for words, that she very much reciprocated it.

She just wished he was a better shag.

Author's Note: Title and epigraph inspired by Lily Allen's 'Not Fair'