cribellate | SERAPHIM DIAS

[She's slipping her cloak off, and her scarf. They're heavy and wet and she takes her wands and casts a handy little carrying spell for them and her bag, until she can get them back up to the Ravenclaw tower to get cleaned.

(There's a parchment cleaning one, someone up there has it, she thinks, they'll help her fix it.)]

If I get a detention because of those girls, I'll cover them in so many boils and pustules and warts they'll never get a date again, you mark that. I'll turn Greengrass into a bloody pig if I have to.

[Her uniform is wet and parts are muddy but she doesn't look quite as horrible without the drenched outer stuff on - except for the mud in her hair and on her face]

You'll clean me up, though, won't you?

[He laughs at that string of threats, and--even in the murky semidarkness of the secret passage--reaches out to push his thumb over her cheek, a surprisingly gentle touch. It smudges off some of the mud as well.]

That sounds hot. Can I watch?

[A little off her other cheek as well, and he leans down to brush his mouth against hers--barely, just barely a kiss--]

I can't promise you'll be very clean when I'm done with you. But you'll be less muddy, anyways. All right with that?

You can watch whatever you like, where I'm involved.

[And isn't that teasing. There's mud over her mouth, so she's a bit glad he's not kissing her more than that, but the tease makes her breath catch just a bit.]

I'll settle for not muddy, yes. You have to promise me one thing.

[She gives a quick little smile]

You have to help undress me.

[He's going to take advantage of that declaration. Whatever he likes, whenever she's involved--that's the sort of thing that inspires a little shortness of his breath. Couple that with the request she makes of him, and he could very well push her up against the wall right now--

But he doesn't. He shifts his hands down, to grip at her hips, tugging her a little closer.]

Do I get to use my hands, or do I have to try for teeth?

Well let's go for hands, today, I'm covered in lakewater and mud and it's bad enough the entire school will know within the hour, let's not add killing Sirius Black with some kind of lake parasite to my list of sins.

[She brushes just against him, and it's damp, all her clothes are damp.]

Teeth will be for the day you can catch me in my bed.

Edited (mici stop abusing commas or they'll be taken away from you) 2013-10-29 21:45 (UTC)

[He grins, when she leans in a little closer--even the slight press of her body, damp as it is--even that's enough to get a shiver out of him, eager and anticipatory, and he grabs onto her--one hand at her hand, one at her hip, keeping her where she is.]

Hands it is, then.

[He lingers there, a moment, but it's going to be better when he gets her to the bathroom, so--reluctantly, he steps away, his hand still holding hers.]

Come on.

[She follows him down the dusty hall, and when they come to the door she waits as he opens it, and steps out into the light. It's early enough no one is here, no one is likely to be here for a while. Her bundle of muddy and wet things lands with a plop on the floor, and she looks down at her clothes. They're sticking to her skin in places, the white of her shirt vaguely see-through.]

I don't even want to know what my hair looks like.

[Muddy and stringy, that's how.]

[He's hardly looking at her hair, given the nearly translucent nature of her shirt--when she calls attention to it, Sirius spares it a brief glance, but only in passing.]

Does it matter?

[No, it does not, is the answer there, and he steps in closer again to brush his fingers against the collar of her shirt--along the edge, to that top button.]

Supposing if you don't care.

[She lifts her head a bit, and even under the mud she looks satisfied, pleased about it.]

Frankly, maybe you deserve a bit of a reward.

[She considers him a longer moment, her fingers brushing against his, just a little]

S'ppose I don't care. And s'ppose I'd appreciate a reward. You might be hexing them later, and well done you--but I've already got it started for you. That's got to be worth something.

[He twists his fingers a little, his eyes still on hers. The top button comes loose, twisting out of its hole, and he skims down to the second, twisting that one open as well.]

You did. Defending me valiantly, and everything.

[Her fingers fiddle a bit with the cloth of his shirt, but don't do anything else. Just get mud on there.]

You're getting sex either way, so don't waste it asking for that. Tell me, instead, what you'd like.

[Waste it. She says it all so firmly, and matter-of-factly--he should snap at her for smearing mud on him, but what does it matter? If he's going to get a little dirty here, he might as well actually be dirty.

Another button, and then another, and he lets his left hand continue in that, all the way down the other buttons. His right hand he slips into her shirt, uses it to ease the sleeve off of her shoulder.]

Well, I want your clothes off, first. And then I want you in that bath.

[He could yell at her for getting mud on him and she would rub it on his skin, just for that. But now she's moving a bit, undoing her cuffs, getting her shirt off her other shoulder. Her bra is only slightly dirty, but damp, her nipples raised from the cold.]

That's easily done, isn't it?

[She toes her shoes off and steps out of them, then unzips her skirt but doesn't pull it over her hips, not yet.]

Edited 2013-11-01 14:31 (UTC)

I s'ppose it is. But aren't you going to say 'and then what'?

[He keeps his smirk, even if his eyes keep flicking down to get as good a look at her as he can. He could always step back, of course, but that would mean stepping away from her--and he likes where he is, this close, close enough that he can slip his hands up--one to push down one bra strap, over her shoulder; the other to push against her breast, just a little, a light pressure--]

[She leans forward, presses back against his hand, and moves a bit, just to lift a foot up at the knee, barely bending over to take off a wet sock, and then doing it again.]

And then what?

[She fixes her eyes up on him and her hands go back to his shirt, curling there in the fabric.]

[He squeezes, gently, at her breast, as the action of tugging off her sock shifts her just a little closer--as she grips at his shirt--and then he slips his hand up, to slip the other strap off of her shoulder, lets his hand slip down around her back to fuss with the clasp--]

And then I think I'd like to join you. Get you all cleaned up. You'll need help, you're quite dirty.

[Clasp undone, he moves his hand, so her bra can fall off naturally.]

And then I think I'd like to fuck you.

[She giggles, just a bit, and tugs at her skirt. It doesn't take much before that's falling, too, and she's stepping out, naked, if it weren't for her pants.]

Well, do you want the honors?

[She has the fingers of one hand curled against the waistband, but she's not moving them.]

I think that sounds pretty much perfect, if you want to know.

I'm glad you approve.

[He's reluctant, to step back--but getting to see her properly will be worth it, beginning with the hand hooked into the waistband of her pants, and then up, his gaze lingering every now and then, before he finally meets her eyes.]

You do it this time. I'll watch.

[This time implies that there will be a next--but that's no secret, right? There's going to be at least one next time. She's earned that much.]

[She doesn't draw it out as much as she could. No other boy has seen her naked - her other sexual encounters (not that many, two others) have been done desperately, mostly clothed, and had been almost entirely disappointing on her end.

So this is new for her, being looked at, the subject instead of the observer.

She draws her pants down her legs and steps out of them, and looks up once, to see his face, to give him a moment to look. There's a pale scar, about three inches long and smooth, just against her hip, and some freckles over her breasts and stomach.

After that moment she turns and walks to turn on the hot water tap and slip into the large tub.]

[It's a good long look, but not long enough. Even for Sirius, having it off with girls is a difficult thing to coordinate. There aren't private rooms where you can just do as you please and lounge around naked afterwards. It's a hurried, breathless affair, with a few exceptions--his status comes with some perks, after all, and kicking people out of the dormitory room is one of them.

But this is different. This is a room, well-lit, and Sera looks right back at him--brazen, nearly, direct--and he could go on looking at her but she turns away toward the bath, and he's got to start getting his own things off so he can follow her. He's slowed a little in that he keeps stealing glances at her, but he's still hurrying.]

[She dips under the water, to get the bulk of the mud out of her hair and also to give him a moment, in case he needs to be awkward about undressing, and comes back up to lean her elbows on the edge of the bath. The prefect's bath is a perfectly good place for this, and the idea of getting caught - not likely but entirely possible - only makes this a little better.

She tilts her head a bit to look up at him]

No other boy has ever seen me naked before. So you know.

[As if it's something he's earned.]

[He flashes her a grin, as he steps out of his trousers.]

Is that right. What an honour.

[Though for all his sarcasm--well, it's not an honour, really. But it is something he feels as if he's earned, and something that was worth earning.]

What exactly have you been saving yourself for?

[Pants, next. He raises his eyebrows at her with his question and slips them off, chucks them away with the rest of his clothes, and goes to climb into the bath as well. The hot water is a little shocking--seriously hot--but he recovers gamely, with a grin.]

[She moves then, to put her hands on his waist, and she's looking at him, examining each part of him, curiously.]

You act as though I do this every night, with a different boy each time.

But you don't. That's my point. Someone as fit as you could, I s'ppose, if you wanted to.

[He's never had trouble with excess, with girls or sex or any of it. And just because he's not been the subject of scrutiny like this before--not so directly, anyways--doesn't mean he shies away from it now. He lets her look, because it means he gets to look in return.]

[She laughs a bit, at that. At being called fit.]

You could say beautiful, you know. Pretty. Lovely.

To be honest when most boys chase me, I get bored. I could have someone steady and smart and loyal - I suppose if I was particularly into facial scarring I could choose Remus Lupin, but I like it when I feel more like a toy than I do a girlfriend, and most of the boys here wouldn't understand that.

But I think you do.

[That's maybe more honest than she intended, there is something broken in that, but she's smiling and tracing her hands over the planes of his hips.]

Besides, the sex with sixteen year old boys seems to tend towards awful.

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