Pansy peered round the door of the next room on this landing. It was dark and appeared to be unoccupied. A guest bedroom, maybe.
She turned to Perry. "This one looks good."
Quickly she pushed the door open fully, and pulled Perry through, closing and charming the door shut after them. Relinquishing her grip on his hand, she moved across the room to light the fire in the place, so that it cast a flickering glow over the chamber then turned and looked at Perry. Now they were here, suddenly it seemed more difficult than she had imagined. She couldn't just go over to him and kiss him, like she wanted to. Pansy wanted her hands in his hair again, and his hands on her.
Slowly she walked back over to him, and looked up at him from under her eyelashes. But her hands stayed by her sides. Once again, it was for Perry to make the first move.
Well, Pansy took care of the door and the lights, so Perry took care of the soundproofing. Thank goodness for silencing charms; he didn't want them to attract unwanted attention with too much noise.
He looked over and Pansy was approaching him looking positively bashful, which was interesting considering this was her idea. Here was one of those awkward moments that called for a smooth transition, only Perry couldn't think of one. He was certainly into the idea a moment ago, but now the sight of Pansy looking so serious and vulnerable cooled him down a bit. There were a number of consequences that one just didn't consider when seized by passion, and Perry had more concerns than the average man.
If they did this, there was no going back.
It'd be lying to say he wasn't nervous, because the sex itself wasn't that big a deal, but it was the before and after that had his muscles tense. He wondered if he was pushing her into this, if she wanted it as much as he did, and if she did if perhaps she expected more commitment than he was willing to give afterward. It wouldn't be the same after this... but how much would change?
Well she'd practically dragged him in here, so if she wasn't ready for this, then it was no one's fault but hers. He wasn't sure if he was ready, but Perry tended not to think about that until afterward. Right now he needed to devote his attention to getting them started.
He moved closer, very close and took Pansy's head in his hands, fingers threading into her hair. He tilted her head up toward his and leaned close, flesh touching, his lips moving over hers but not completing the connection.
"Not getting cold feet, are you?" he said in a quiet tenor. He could see the burning light reflected in the whites of her eyes and grinned, and continued to not kiss her.
This whole situation felt so unreal, Pansy was sure it was a set-up. Someone was going to jump out from behind the curtains and yell, "Gotcha!" and then Pansy would be mortally embarrassed. And then they (whoever they were) would die. Painfully.
Or if it wasn't a prank, then Perry was going to come to his senses and turn his tail and run. That seemed more likely and even more terrifying, and if she looked shy or nervous then that was why. So when she heard Perry mutter a silencing charms a rush of adrenalin that was half nerves and half elation brought a flush to her cheeks.
Then his hands were threaded into her hair and she could feel his breath ghosting across her lips. Her eyes drifted shut but when the expected kiss didn't come she opened them again. He was so close it was almost impossible that he wasn't quite close enough. When he spoke she could feel the vibrations, and his lips brushed against hers, and she shivered.
Cold feet? He thought she was going to back out?!
Pansy grinned a full mischevious grin and replied in a low voice, "Not on your life," before her hands reached up and around his neck to pull his lips fully onto hers.
Perry's grin broadened even as her lips met his. This was the response he needed, the authorization to take this as far as it could go, and he quickly found his previous interest. Now he could act uninhibited, though his body was torn between taking this slow, because it had been so long, and giving in to wild frenzy because it had been so fucking long. Without pulling away he shrugged off his dress robes and carelessly flung them away with an arm. His next inclination was to unbutton his shirt because he was starting to feel hot around the chest and collar, but that could come later.
Right now, he wanted their bodies close. He moved against her and his hands traveled, first to the hair at the nape so he could tilt Pansy's head up and lightly explore her neck with his lips and teeth. He then pulled away only slightly to take her arms and free the grip on his neck, and his hands slid over her shoulders, fingers taking the edges of her cardigan along with them. Here there was no hesitation; undressing girls was nothing new to him.
But, it was always annoying. There was another top to get through still, and noticing that there was no satisfying plop of fabric on carpet, Perry glanced down.
"Christ," he growled against her throat, "What is it with girls and wearing layers?" He pulled away briefly to undo the two buttons thwarting his mission.
Pansy frowned as her hands were pushed away from Perry's hair, but she stifled a laugh as Perry struggled with her cardigan.
"What is it with men and not being able to work buttons?" she retorted with a smile and flapped his hands away with her own before undoing them herself and shrugging off her cardigan.
She pushed herself up on her tiptoes, silently cursing her height and wishing she was taller, but pressing her lips to Perry's again all the same. Pansy had forgotten kisses could be like this, deep and drugging and desperate. Her hands moved up to Perry's shirt collar and she pulled apart the top few buttons in a just a couple of seconds, not breaking the kiss or glancing down. Her fingers played over Perry's collar bones, and she pulled away from him to press her lips to the pulse point at the base of his throat. Her fingers moved down to open the next few buttons, exposing the top half of his chest and then looked up at him, grinning.
Perry would have appreciated a taller Pansy as well, because he'd been craning his neck down to be able to reach her. The kiss was absorbing and powerful and he didn't even notice when she undid the first few buttons. What was going on above that point was much better, and when Pansy began to pull away Perry protested by momentarily seizing her bottom lip in his teeth.
And then he looked down and realized his shirt was half-open.
Inept?! For a moment he looked slightly offended by that. But the annoyance didn't last long; especially since he'd noticed something more interesting than Pansy's cheek. He was on the verge of asking, but felt a bit of urgency to get to the point of this with the knowledge that there was a party still going outside. And he and Pansy had a curfew.
He curled his fingers into her hair and placed his lips over hers. "We'll see who's inept at what in a moment." His kisses were growing in intensity, more confident and even feral. It was amazing how quickly the heat built, and the wilder part of Perry was emerging along with it. His hand moved up Pansy's abdomen and gripped her breast, fingers kneading, and the animal was on him before he even knew it. He noticed as he was working to free Pansy of her top, that maybe this eagerness wasn't just because of the passing time. He'd have to be careful, then, but his skin was crawling with heat and the pressure in his groin was already too much to ignore, and he had to get out of these clothes.
Pansy's top was tossed away but he kept her close, enjoying the feel of her body against his without so much annoying fabric. His fingers pressed against her breast and followed the contour of it, the thumb pushing the nipple in a curving motion, and he was really a little too much into that area. Meanwhile his mouth had moved to the base of her neck and the shoulder, trailing kisses that were more tongue and teeth than lip.
And then it was back to her throat, and Perry released his breath in one ball of heat. "The bed...."
For all her accusations of ineptitude, Perry seemed to be undressing her with astonishing speed. Pressed against him, his hands at her breast and his lips at her throat causing her to groan deep in her throat, the fact that he was still fully clothed from the ribs down was becoming annoying. She wanted to feel his skin hot against hers, with no barriers in the way. There had been barriers for too long.
Her hands scrabbled at the rest of the buttons of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders even as he bit into her neck and shoulder and her eyes fell shut. And then the muttered words, The bed, and Pansy could feel against her stomach the proof that Perry really wanted to be there every bit as much as she did.
She knew the bed was somewhere behind them, and her eyes still closed, she moved slowly backwards, hooking her fingers into the beltloops on his trousers and pulling him with her. Clumsily, she kicked off her heels and shrank another three inches. Out of reach of Perry for the moment, the back of her knees hit the mattress and she sat down on it, opening her eyes and looking up at him.
Seeing something unexpected.
From his shoulder to his stomach, a long scar traversed his torso, and Pansy lifted one hand and stroked her finger along it. It could have been anything - a boyhood accident; a fall from a broomstick; or something much more sinister. At the moment, she didn't want to ask. Instead, she leant in and pressed her lips at the point at which it ended, while her hand drifted to join the other engaged in undoing his flies and pushing down his trousers.
In that moment that they were separated Perry was in a frenzy to get as unclothed as he could by the time he reached the bed. Shirt (it was still hanging on one arm from when Pansy had pushed it off earlier), shoes, socks, everything must come off! He followed her descent to the bed, placing one knee on the mattress beside her thigh to pick up where they'd left off, but froze immediately when he saw the look on her face. And now he remembered why he hadn't removed his shirt himself.
The tension was back, as if he would bolt right at that moment. But Perry remained where he was, staring into Pansy's face, too frozen to even look away like he wanted to. This was the thing he didn't want her to see... one thing, anyway. His scars were private, only his to know about, only his to acknowledge. With them laid open, he felt truly exposed.
The muscles in his abdomen rippled as her finger made contact and he flinched to stop her, but as her lips found their way there, he was frozen again, simply allowing her to finish. Perry stood and pulled his trousers the rest of the way, boxers along with them, and strangely standing nude before her wasn't nearly as bad as that one blemish on his torso. He resumed his position, one knee on the mattress, and his movements were hesitant and rigid as he slowly pushed Pansy onto her back. His body followed hers, supported by his hands on either side of her.
For a while he simply watched her, reveling in the glow of the firelight on her skin, heat of their bodies, the pain of arousal, his own drugged and twisting mind. His gaze slowly shifted when he realized that the patterns on her skin weren't simply from the shifting shadows. There were circles, angry reds and bruising purples, mirroring the impression of his teeth and his fingers, areas where it hadn't seemed like he'd applied much pressure. But then, that was part of the curse. Suddenly he remembered all the reasons he didn't want to do this. Because they weren't the same at all, and he had nothing to offer her but scars and pain, and why she wanted him, a monster, he would never know.
But now he couldn't hide; he was already here, with Pansy, and they had both seen each other's marks. Perry had noticed the tattoo on her forearm as she'd unbuttoned his shirt--he'd nearly thought it was the Death Eater's mark before sense told him better. But she hadn't asked about his scar, so he wouldn't ask about hers. So perhaps they understood each other better than Perry acknowledged. Want what you can have, Snape had told him, as if it was so easy to tell what was within reach and what wasn't. But maybe here was something that was.
...He grimaced, because the last person he wanted to think about right now was Severus Snape.
His right arm had begun to convulse lightly with the strain of holding himself up and so he shifted his weight, bringing his body closer, his lips caressing an angry mark on her neck. Even at this time of the month he could smell the burst capillaries within the skin.
Perry's voice, when he'd found the power to release it, was low, just a murmur against her jaw. "If I hurt you," because, he was doubtful of how well he would control his urges as they continued....
He looked like an animal startled in bright light for a moment, and Pansy wondered if that was it, the end of this amazing closeness and if he was going to cut and run. What would she do if he pushed back off the bed and went for his clothes? Would she grab him and try to hold him back, or would she let him go?
Before she had to decide though, he was back and pushing her slowly back to the matress. She went willingly, but this wasn't a game anymore (if it ever had been, really). There was no laughing and joking now. Perry's movements were stiff and his eyes serious as he looked down at her. Pansy was surprised she didn't feel more vulnerable, more uncertain. After all, Perry was only the second man to ever see her like this, only the second man she'd ever seen like this. But this was Perry, and she wasn't afraid, not even for a moment.
Perry, though. He looked... not scared, but concerned, as his eyes skated over her body, and Pansy wanted nothing more than to ease the tension that was all too obvious in the line of his shoulders and the quiver of his arm. Almost as though he'd read her mind, he dropped lower, and it only took a slight arching of her back to press her lips to his in a soft, delicate kiss. Her fingers drew meaningless swirls on his back, following the lines of his muscles, as he caressed her neck and Pansy just enjoyed this feeling of closeness, togetherness.
She barely heard the murmur and for a moment she misunderstood him completely. "Oh, but I'm not a-"
Her voice cut off as she caught sight of the bruising herself. She'd barely even felt it when Perry had inflicted them, as caught up in the moment as he himself had been, but now she understood at least part of this new seriousness. She knew Perry scared himself, and she knew it would be naive of her to think that he would never hurt her. If he was nervous of himself, he probably had his reasons and everyone had lost control at one time or another in the passion of some emotion. So she didn't utter meaningless platitudes or declare some ill-founded belief in his incapability to hurt her. Instead she stroked her hands softly through his hair, looked straight up into his eyes and said, equally softly, "I will."
Perry tensed at the feeling of her fingers sifting through his hair, but for a completely different reason than worry or fear. She was still with him, still willing.
There was no denying it to himself or to her that he wouldn't be able to control himself... not entirely. And if she wasn't afraid, then hey, he'd soldier on somehow. His reply was his lips firmly on hers, and then he traveled downward, neck to collarbone to torso. His hands followed their own path down to her thighs, because there was still the business of a skirt and underwear to deal with.
All Perry had put Pansy through, and she was still so fucking patient with him. She couldn't have imagined that she, the former queen bee of Slytherin, could have tolerated him this long. He couldn't imagine any girl tolerating him, for that matter.
They helped, her gentle kisses, the circles she traced on his skin, that she was so into every moment. She was responsive and assertive, and he loved it. He gently bit at her neck to feel her pulse quicken, pushed against the inside of her thighs to feel how she would react, and kept his eyes open so that he could see it. He pinched the hem her knickers between a thumb and two fingers and pulled them down, then stood to yank her skirt off with them. If Perry seemed overly anxious to get her naked... well... he might have been. But this did make him feel better, more sure of himself.
He gripped her thighs to push Pansy farther onto the bed, so that they could both lie properly. He soon followed, head to head, legs straddling hers, resuming an exploration of bodies that Perry seemed disinterested in interrupting with chatter. His mouth was usually otherwise occupied, anyway. His energy and the heat between them built until the foreplay wasn't enough, and his hand moved down between Pansy's legs.
Had he been thinking he would have used the right hand, but the left had been closer. He didn't notice just how much the right arm had been protesting his weight until it finally gave out.
Suddenly they were lying flat one on top of the other, Perry's search was incomplete, and he wasn't sure which part of Pansy's upper body his forehead had met but she was bony and it hurt. "Ow... shit."
How had she forgotten how good a simple kiss could be, when it was with the right person? For one wild moment, she felt as though she could forgoe any thought of sex if only she could lie there and kiss Perry over and over again until she ran out of breath.
Then his lips moved down from her mouth to her neck and then onto her chest, and after a small whine she had to acknowledge that maybe continuing on from the kissing was the best idea after all. Pansy lifted her hips up from the mattress so that her last remaining clothes were easier to remove and when Perry lay back down on top of her and continued where he had left off, it didn't matter one bit that he was only the second. John couldn't have been further from her mind. All she could think of was that it was Perry who was lying on top of her; Perry who was caressing her skin so perfectly with his mouth; Perry whose hand was, oh, so close-
His sudden collapse caught her completely by surprise and his head hitting her breastbone momentarily knocked the air from her body. It would be sore there in the morning, probably, but as soon as she had got her breath she couldn't help it - she giggled. Possibly the unsexiest response ever, and to make up for it Pansy wriggled down the bed a little way so that she could enfold him in her arms and press a kiss to his forehead. Her lips moved across his brow and down to the corner of his eyes and then to the creases at the sides of his mouth, before she kissed him properly again.
One slim hand slid from the top of Perry's back down between their bodies and began to stroke, slowly and carefully, as the kiss became became deeper and more heated. There was no question of Pansy giggling now, and she wrapped her free arm around Perry's shoulders, pulling him closer to make up for the distance between them that was unfortunately necessary elsewhere. Even that small gap was too much. Pansy wanted to feel his skin against hers, hot and flushed and sweaty, everywhere.
Perry soon got an elbow under him so that his full weight wasn't on Pansy, and he looked quite harassed to realize she was giggling. Here he was, feeling like an utter git because his fecking arm had the sturdiness of pudding, and she thought it was funny.
But the kisses made him feel a little better.
"You couldn't have ignored that?" he murmured indignantly as her lips moved down his face, and by the time they reached his lips he was grinning. His mouth soon conformed to the shape of hers and his embarrassment was happily lost in the euphoria fogging his mind.
The kiss was deep, mouths open and tongues working. He didn't protest as Pansy pulled him closer and his arm curved around her head to bring their bodies together again. And then her hand found a forgotten and completely vulnerable target, but the only reaction he could manage in their fully engaged state was a sharp intake of air. As if the bloody thing wasn't already hard enough, she was inciting him. Not that he was complaining. But Perry liked his control, and right now Pansy had the advantage. Her strokes were so light and gentle, yet the sensation was sending a steady and paralyzing shock through his entire body. He groaned low in his throat, though the sound came out as more of a growl.
Well, she wasn't setting the pace of this night so soon. Perry's hand once again took up its search, traveling over her groin until he found that tell-tale heat. He slid two fingers in, perhaps a bit roughly when he was sure he had the right entrance. If she was in no hurry than neither was he, so he applied pressure to see what kind of response he would get.
But really, he just needed a hand there to guide his way in. He used the free arm to lift himself just slightly, enough to break the kiss, enough to look into her eyes. He was going to watch every minute of this.
His reaction to her hand caused Pansy to smile around their kiss and she kept her touches deliberately featherlight. She meant to have him aching and desperate for her, before the end of what short time they had.
The tables were turned pretty abruptly though, when Perry's hand moved back to where it had been a short time before. She gasped as his fingers entered her, and bit down a little roughly but it was his own fault. Then he was rubbing and her eyes rolled back in her head because he was so close to the perfect spot. She actually didn't mind that he broke the kiss because she could stop actively forcing herself to concentrate on it and instead she groaned and muttered, "Just - to the left a bit. Just a bit."
She felt his body shift as he moved back over her and opened her eyes to see what he was doing, looking straight up into hazel eyes looking down at her. Watching her. It might have been intimidating, even embarrassing, to be watched so intently when you were moaning and biting your lip. It really couldn't look good. But somehow, Pansy didn't care. In fact, she gazed back up at him; and she smiled.
Perry was so absorbed that he didn't even realize what Pansy said at first. Was she giving him directions?? Oh, that was just like her. What did she think this was, a back rub? He could have rolled his eyes. Instead he settled for jabbing his fingers to the left rather suddenly.
"Like this?" Probably not. But he soon resumed this gentle caress, because if anything her comment had amused, not offended him. Besides, he wanted to know what Pansy liked, and what drove her mad. He wanted to know every inch of her.
Currently, Perry could guess that he was on the right track. It wasn't a pretty sight; Pansy's eyes were rolling, she moaned and at one point gaped much like a fish. But even these reactions were pleasing, because it was him causing them. Their eyes met, she smiled and he grinned back, feeling a strange pang deep in his chest. Perry had slept with other girls, but knowing he was wanted, that he could make a girl gasp and scream for him; that was always gratifying.
She wasn't a virgin, at least. Perry had had that experience once in his sixth year. It had been traumatic for him and even more so for the girl (a fourth year Slytherin). She'd been all right afterward and they continued the relationship for a few more weeks, but Perry decided after that that he preferred not to be a girl's first. Of course, now he found himself wondering who else Pansy had been with, but he pushed that thought away for later.
Again there was the internal battle over whether to take this slow and gently, so as not to hurt her, or to go for quick satisfaction. Something told him Pansy wouldn't be pleased with the latter. Besides, he wanted to savor this for as long as possible.
When Perry took the time to consider it, sex was a very strange thing. That two people could interact so intimately, that the body practically depended on it was strange. It felt like weakness to him, a loss of control for someone like him, who didn't show emotion so easily. It was largely physical, but emotion was tangled in it. He wanted Pansy close, and every touch, every kiss, every word murmured breathlessly or gasped in the heat of passion was as much for his satisfaction as for hers. Perry's mind was in a fog, now and then penetrated with the reminder to control himself, but the effort was as futile as fighting the wolf; only, giving in now felt much more gratifying. Sex was indeed strange, loud and raw and sometimes awkward, and still amazingly intimate and honest. Their bodies were entangled and hot and clammy, soaked in sweat and other things, and Perry's muscles shuddered with the physical and emotional exertion of it all. Under their breathing he could hear the party winding down, guests bidding each other farewell, and in the end he held Pansy close, lips against her forehead and fingers in her hair, because he wasn't ready to confront reality just yet. He wasn't ready to let this go.
How had they gone from fighting just hours ago, to this? That's how strange sex was.
For as long as it lasted, Pansy gave herself up to the animal urges of her body and left all of her worries behind her. Just for those precious minutes, there was nothing in the world but herself and Perry; and nothing of the world but the bed they were lying in; and no sound except for their laboured breathing and the sound of skin on skin.
Perhaps this was the closest she could ever come to understanding the man being overpowered by the wolf. If that was so, she would never understand it and Perry was right, because this didn't feel like a terrifying loss of control... it felt like flying. Or how flying would feel, if only it was as easy and as natural as lying still. It had been so long since Pansy had dwelt solely in the moment presented to her, she had forgotten what a natural high it was.
Afterwards, as she lay quietly in Perry's arms, a sweat-sheen over their entwined bodies, Pansy savoured these last few moments. She had half-expected Perry to immediately launch himself out of the bed as soon as it was all over. Instead, this intimate embrace and never-ending kiss to her forehead made Pansy wish they could stay here forever, or at least that it wasn't Potter's house and they could stay here all night.
Already though she could hear people leaving, their footsteps echoing back from the driveway, and through the window over Perry's shoulder the sun was setting. If they weren't gone soon they would miss curfew. Her hands, drawing mysterious patterns onto Perry's skin, drifted to a stop and she shifted so that she could press one more kiss to Perry's lips. All of the longings Pansy couldn't allow herself to say outloud, all of the emotions of the last hour and her wishes for the future, she said as best she could with her silent lips.
Then she rolled out of Perry's arms and, sitting up, began to retrieve her clothes and to dress. The last thing she wanted now was to be the one left alone in a cooling bed while Perry moved away from her. It seemed as though fate was contriving it so that Pansy was always vulnerable when Perry was near. Well, not tonight. Pansy hated other people seeing her weaknesses and she was determined she would not seem weak to Perry now.
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She turned to Perry. "This one looks good."
Quickly she pushed the door open fully, and pulled Perry through, closing and charming the door shut after them. Relinquishing her grip on his hand, she moved across the room to light the fire in the place, so that it cast a flickering glow over the chamber then turned and looked at Perry. Now they were here, suddenly it seemed more difficult than she had imagined. She couldn't just go over to him and kiss him, like she wanted to. Pansy wanted her hands in his hair again, and his hands on her.
Slowly she walked back over to him, and looked up at him from under her eyelashes. But her hands stayed by her sides. Once again, it was for Perry to make the first move.
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He looked over and Pansy was approaching him looking positively bashful, which was interesting considering this was her idea. Here was one of those awkward moments that called for a smooth transition, only Perry couldn't think of one. He was certainly into the idea a moment ago, but now the sight of Pansy looking so serious and vulnerable cooled him down a bit. There were a number of consequences that one just didn't consider when seized by passion, and Perry had more concerns than the average man.
If they did this, there was no going back.
It'd be lying to say he wasn't nervous, because the sex itself wasn't that big a deal, but it was the before and after that had his muscles tense. He wondered if he was pushing her into this, if she wanted it as much as he did, and if she did if perhaps she expected more commitment than he was willing to give afterward. It wouldn't be the same after this... but how much would change?
Well she'd practically dragged him in here, so if she wasn't ready for this, then it was no one's fault but hers. He wasn't sure if he was ready, but Perry tended not to think about that until afterward. Right now he needed to devote his attention to getting them started.
He moved closer, very close and took Pansy's head in his hands, fingers threading into her hair. He tilted her head up toward his and leaned close, flesh touching, his lips moving over hers but not completing the connection.
"Not getting cold feet, are you?" he said in a quiet tenor. He could see the burning light reflected in the whites of her eyes and grinned, and continued to not kiss her.
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Or if it wasn't a prank, then Perry was going to come to his senses and turn his tail and run. That seemed more likely and even more terrifying, and if she looked shy or nervous then that was why. So when she heard Perry mutter a silencing charms a rush of adrenalin that was half nerves and half elation brought a flush to her cheeks.
Then his hands were threaded into her hair and she could feel his breath ghosting across her lips. Her eyes drifted shut but when the expected kiss didn't come she opened them again. He was so close it was almost impossible that he wasn't quite close enough. When he spoke she could feel the vibrations, and his lips brushed against hers, and she shivered.
Cold feet? He thought she was going to back out?!
Pansy grinned a full mischevious grin and replied in a low voice, "Not on your life," before her hands reached up and around his neck to pull his lips fully onto hers.
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Right now, he wanted their bodies close. He moved against her and his hands traveled, first to the hair at the nape so he could tilt Pansy's head up and lightly explore her neck with his lips and teeth. He then pulled away only slightly to take her arms and free the grip on his neck, and his hands slid over her shoulders, fingers taking the edges of her cardigan along with them. Here there was no hesitation; undressing girls was nothing new to him.
But, it was always annoying. There was another top to get through still, and noticing that there was no satisfying plop of fabric on carpet, Perry glanced down.
"Christ," he growled against her throat, "What is it with girls and wearing layers?" He pulled away briefly to undo the two buttons thwarting his mission.
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"What is it with men and not being able to work buttons?" she retorted with a smile and flapped his hands away with her own before undoing them herself and shrugging off her cardigan.
She pushed herself up on her tiptoes, silently cursing her height and wishing she was taller, but pressing her lips to Perry's again all the same. Pansy had forgotten kisses could be like this, deep and drugging and desperate. Her hands moved up to Perry's shirt collar and she pulled apart the top few buttons in a just a couple of seconds, not breaking the kiss or glancing down. Her fingers played over Perry's collar bones, and she pulled away from him to press her lips to the pulse point at the base of his throat. Her fingers moved down to open the next few buttons, exposing the top half of his chest and then looked up at him, grinning.
"See, inept. That's what you are."
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And then he looked down and realized his shirt was half-open.
Inept?! For a moment he looked slightly offended by that. But the annoyance didn't last long; especially since he'd noticed something more interesting than Pansy's cheek. He was on the verge of asking, but felt a bit of urgency to get to the point of this with the knowledge that there was a party still going outside. And he and Pansy had a curfew.
He curled his fingers into her hair and placed his lips over hers. "We'll see who's inept at what in a moment." His kisses were growing in intensity, more confident and even feral. It was amazing how quickly the heat built, and the wilder part of Perry was emerging along with it. His hand moved up Pansy's abdomen and gripped her breast, fingers kneading, and the animal was on him before he even knew it. He noticed as he was working to free Pansy of her top, that maybe this eagerness wasn't just because of the passing time. He'd have to be careful, then, but his skin was crawling with heat and the pressure in his groin was already too much to ignore, and he had to get out of these clothes.
Pansy's top was tossed away but he kept her close, enjoying the feel of her body against his without so much annoying fabric. His fingers pressed against her breast and followed the contour of it, the thumb pushing the nipple in a curving motion, and he was really a little too much into that area. Meanwhile his mouth had moved to the base of her neck and the shoulder, trailing kisses that were more tongue and teeth than lip.
And then it was back to her throat, and Perry released his breath in one ball of heat. "The bed...."
He'd toss her there himself if he had to.
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Her hands scrabbled at the rest of the buttons of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders even as he bit into her neck and shoulder and her eyes fell shut. And then the muttered words, The bed, and Pansy could feel against her stomach the proof that Perry really wanted to be there every bit as much as she did.
She knew the bed was somewhere behind them, and her eyes still closed, she moved slowly backwards, hooking her fingers into the beltloops on his trousers and pulling him with her. Clumsily, she kicked off her heels and shrank another three inches. Out of reach of Perry for the moment, the back of her knees hit the mattress and she sat down on it, opening her eyes and looking up at him.
Seeing something unexpected.
From his shoulder to his stomach, a long scar traversed his torso, and Pansy lifted one hand and stroked her finger along it. It could have been anything - a boyhood accident; a fall from a broomstick; or something much more sinister. At the moment, she didn't want to ask. Instead, she leant in and pressed her lips at the point at which it ended, while her hand drifted to join the other engaged in undoing his flies and pushing down his trousers.
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The tension was back, as if he would bolt right at that moment. But Perry remained where he was, staring into Pansy's face, too frozen to even look away like he wanted to. This was the thing he didn't want her to see... one thing, anyway. His scars were private, only his to know about, only his to acknowledge. With them laid open, he felt truly exposed.
The muscles in his abdomen rippled as her finger made contact and he flinched to stop her, but as her lips found their way there, he was frozen again, simply allowing her to finish. Perry stood and pulled his trousers the rest of the way, boxers along with them, and strangely standing nude before her wasn't nearly as bad as that one blemish on his torso. He resumed his position, one knee on the mattress, and his movements were hesitant and rigid as he slowly pushed Pansy onto her back. His body followed hers, supported by his hands on either side of her.
For a while he simply watched her, reveling in the glow of the firelight on her skin, heat of their bodies, the pain of arousal, his own drugged and twisting mind. His gaze slowly shifted when he realized that the patterns on her skin weren't simply from the shifting shadows. There were circles, angry reds and bruising purples, mirroring the impression of his teeth and his fingers, areas where it hadn't seemed like he'd applied much pressure. But then, that was part of the curse. Suddenly he remembered all the reasons he didn't want to do this. Because they weren't the same at all, and he had nothing to offer her but scars and pain, and why she wanted him, a monster, he would never know.
But now he couldn't hide; he was already here, with Pansy, and they had both seen each other's marks. Perry had noticed the tattoo on her forearm as she'd unbuttoned his shirt--he'd nearly thought it was the Death Eater's mark before sense told him better. But she hadn't asked about his scar, so he wouldn't ask about hers. So perhaps they understood each other better than Perry acknowledged. Want what you can have, Snape had told him, as if it was so easy to tell what was within reach and what wasn't. But maybe here was something that was.
...He grimaced, because the last person he wanted to think about right now was Severus Snape.
His right arm had begun to convulse lightly with the strain of holding himself up and so he shifted his weight, bringing his body closer, his lips caressing an angry mark on her neck. Even at this time of the month he could smell the burst capillaries within the skin.
Perry's voice, when he'd found the power to release it, was low, just a murmur against her jaw. "If I hurt you," because, he was doubtful of how well he would control his urges as they continued....
"Tell me... okay?"
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Before she had to decide though, he was back and pushing her slowly back to the matress. She went willingly, but this wasn't a game anymore (if it ever had been, really). There was no laughing and joking now. Perry's movements were stiff and his eyes serious as he looked down at her. Pansy was surprised she didn't feel more vulnerable, more uncertain. After all, Perry was only the second man to ever see her like this, only the second man she'd ever seen like this. But this was Perry, and she wasn't afraid, not even for a moment.
Perry, though. He looked... not scared, but concerned, as his eyes skated over her body, and Pansy wanted nothing more than to ease the tension that was all too obvious in the line of his shoulders and the quiver of his arm. Almost as though he'd read her mind, he dropped lower, and it only took a slight arching of her back to press her lips to his in a soft, delicate kiss. Her fingers drew meaningless swirls on his back, following the lines of his muscles, as he caressed her neck and Pansy just enjoyed this feeling of closeness, togetherness.
She barely heard the murmur and for a moment she misunderstood him completely. "Oh, but I'm not a-"
Her voice cut off as she caught sight of the bruising herself. She'd barely even felt it when Perry had inflicted them, as caught up in the moment as he himself had been, but now she understood at least part of this new seriousness. She knew Perry scared himself, and she knew it would be naive of her to think that he would never hurt her. If he was nervous of himself, he probably had his reasons and everyone had lost control at one time or another in the passion of some emotion. So she didn't utter meaningless platitudes or declare some ill-founded belief in his incapability to hurt her. Instead she stroked her hands softly through his hair, looked straight up into his eyes and said, equally softly, "I will."
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There was no denying it to himself or to her that he wouldn't be able to control himself... not entirely. And if she wasn't afraid, then hey, he'd soldier on somehow. His reply was his lips firmly on hers, and then he traveled downward, neck to collarbone to torso. His hands followed their own path down to her thighs, because there was still the business of a skirt and underwear to deal with.
All Perry had put Pansy through, and she was still so fucking patient with him. She couldn't have imagined that she, the former queen bee of Slytherin, could have tolerated him this long. He couldn't imagine any girl tolerating him, for that matter.
They helped, her gentle kisses, the circles she traced on his skin, that she was so into every moment. She was responsive and assertive, and he loved it. He gently bit at her neck to feel her pulse quicken, pushed against the inside of her thighs to feel how she would react, and kept his eyes open so that he could see it. He pinched the hem her knickers between a thumb and two fingers and pulled them down, then stood to yank her skirt off with them. If Perry seemed overly anxious to get her naked... well... he might have been. But this did make him feel better, more sure of himself.
He gripped her thighs to push Pansy farther onto the bed, so that they could both lie properly. He soon followed, head to head, legs straddling hers, resuming an exploration of bodies that Perry seemed disinterested in interrupting with chatter. His mouth was usually otherwise occupied, anyway. His energy and the heat between them built until the foreplay wasn't enough, and his hand moved down between Pansy's legs.
Had he been thinking he would have used the right hand, but the left had been closer. He didn't notice just how much the right arm had been protesting his weight until it finally gave out.
Suddenly they were lying flat one on top of the other, Perry's search was incomplete, and he wasn't sure which part of Pansy's upper body his forehead had met but she was bony and it hurt. "Ow... shit."
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Then his lips moved down from her mouth to her neck and then onto her chest, and after a small whine she had to acknowledge that maybe continuing on from the kissing was the best idea after all. Pansy lifted her hips up from the mattress so that her last remaining clothes were easier to remove and when Perry lay back down on top of her and continued where he had left off, it didn't matter one bit that he was only the second. John couldn't have been further from her mind. All she could think of was that it was Perry who was lying on top of her; Perry who was caressing her skin so perfectly with his mouth; Perry whose hand was, oh, so close-
His sudden collapse caught her completely by surprise and his head hitting her breastbone momentarily knocked the air from her body. It would be sore there in the morning, probably, but as soon as she had got her breath she couldn't help it - she giggled. Possibly the unsexiest response ever, and to make up for it Pansy wriggled down the bed a little way so that she could enfold him in her arms and press a kiss to his forehead. Her lips moved across his brow and down to the corner of his eyes and then to the creases at the sides of his mouth, before she kissed him properly again.
One slim hand slid from the top of Perry's back down between their bodies and began to stroke, slowly and carefully, as the kiss became became deeper and more heated. There was no question of Pansy giggling now, and she wrapped her free arm around Perry's shoulders, pulling him closer to make up for the distance between them that was unfortunately necessary elsewhere. Even that small gap was too much. Pansy wanted to feel his skin against hers, hot and flushed and sweaty, everywhere.
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But the kisses made him feel a little better.
"You couldn't have ignored that?" he murmured indignantly as her lips moved down his face, and by the time they reached his lips he was grinning. His mouth soon conformed to the shape of hers and his embarrassment was happily lost in the euphoria fogging his mind.
The kiss was deep, mouths open and tongues working. He didn't protest as Pansy pulled him closer and his arm curved around her head to bring their bodies together again. And then her hand found a forgotten and completely vulnerable target, but the only reaction he could manage in their fully engaged state was a sharp intake of air. As if the bloody thing wasn't already hard enough, she was inciting him. Not that he was complaining. But Perry liked his control, and right now Pansy had the advantage. Her strokes were so light and gentle, yet the sensation was sending a steady and paralyzing shock through his entire body. He groaned low in his throat, though the sound came out as more of a growl.
Well, she wasn't setting the pace of this night so soon. Perry's hand once again took up its search, traveling over her groin until he found that tell-tale heat. He slid two fingers in, perhaps a bit roughly when he was sure he had the right entrance. If she was in no hurry than neither was he, so he applied pressure to see what kind of response he would get.
But really, he just needed a hand there to guide his way in. He used the free arm to lift himself just slightly, enough to break the kiss, enough to look into her eyes. He was going to watch every minute of this.
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The tables were turned pretty abruptly though, when Perry's hand moved back to where it had been a short time before. She gasped as his fingers entered her, and bit down a little roughly but it was his own fault. Then he was rubbing and her eyes rolled back in her head because he was so close to the perfect spot. She actually didn't mind that he broke the kiss because she could stop actively forcing herself to concentrate on it and instead she groaned and muttered, "Just - to the left a bit. Just a bit."
She felt his body shift as he moved back over her and opened her eyes to see what he was doing, looking straight up into hazel eyes looking down at her. Watching her. It might have been intimidating, even embarrassing, to be watched so intently when you were moaning and biting your lip. It really couldn't look good. But somehow, Pansy didn't care. In fact, she gazed back up at him; and she smiled.
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"Like this?" Probably not. But he soon resumed this gentle caress, because if anything her comment had amused, not offended him. Besides, he wanted to know what Pansy liked, and what drove her mad. He wanted to know every inch of her.
Currently, Perry could guess that he was on the right track. It wasn't a pretty sight; Pansy's eyes were rolling, she moaned and at one point gaped much like a fish. But even these reactions were pleasing, because it was him causing them. Their eyes met, she smiled and he grinned back, feeling a strange pang deep in his chest. Perry had slept with other girls, but knowing he was wanted, that he could make a girl gasp and scream for him; that was always gratifying.
She wasn't a virgin, at least. Perry had had that experience once in his sixth year. It had been traumatic for him and even more so for the girl (a fourth year Slytherin). She'd been all right afterward and they continued the relationship for a few more weeks, but Perry decided after that that he preferred not to be a girl's first. Of course, now he found himself wondering who else Pansy had been with, but he pushed that thought away for later.
Again there was the internal battle over whether to take this slow and gently, so as not to hurt her, or to go for quick satisfaction. Something told him Pansy wouldn't be pleased with the latter. Besides, he wanted to savor this for as long as possible.
When Perry took the time to consider it, sex was a very strange thing. That two people could interact so intimately, that the body practically depended on it was strange. It felt like weakness to him, a loss of control for someone like him, who didn't show emotion so easily. It was largely physical, but emotion was tangled in it. He wanted Pansy close, and every touch, every kiss, every word murmured breathlessly or gasped in the heat of passion was as much for his satisfaction as for hers. Perry's mind was in a fog, now and then penetrated with the reminder to control himself, but the effort was as futile as fighting the wolf; only, giving in now felt much more gratifying. Sex was indeed strange, loud and raw and sometimes awkward, and still amazingly intimate and honest. Their bodies were entangled and hot and clammy, soaked in sweat and other things, and Perry's muscles shuddered with the physical and emotional exertion of it all. Under their breathing he could hear the party winding down, guests bidding each other farewell, and in the end he held Pansy close, lips against her forehead and fingers in her hair, because he wasn't ready to confront reality just yet. He wasn't ready to let this go.
How had they gone from fighting just hours ago, to this? That's how strange sex was.
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Perhaps this was the closest she could ever come to understanding the man being overpowered by the wolf. If that was so, she would never understand it and Perry was right, because this didn't feel like a terrifying loss of control... it felt like flying. Or how flying would feel, if only it was as easy and as natural as lying still. It had been so long since Pansy had dwelt solely in the moment presented to her, she had forgotten what a natural high it was.
Afterwards, as she lay quietly in Perry's arms, a sweat-sheen over their entwined bodies, Pansy savoured these last few moments. She had half-expected Perry to immediately launch himself out of the bed as soon as it was all over. Instead, this intimate embrace and never-ending kiss to her forehead made Pansy wish they could stay here forever, or at least that it wasn't Potter's house and they could stay here all night.
Already though she could hear people leaving, their footsteps echoing back from the driveway, and through the window over Perry's shoulder the sun was setting. If they weren't gone soon they would miss curfew. Her hands, drawing mysterious patterns onto Perry's skin, drifted to a stop and she shifted so that she could press one more kiss to Perry's lips. All of the longings Pansy couldn't allow herself to say outloud, all of the emotions of the last hour and her wishes for the future, she said as best she could with her silent lips.
Then she rolled out of Perry's arms and, sitting up, began to retrieve her clothes and to dress. The last thing she wanted now was to be the one left alone in a cooling bed while Perry moved away from her. It seemed as though fate was contriving it so that Pansy was always vulnerable when Perry was near. Well, not tonight. Pansy hated other people seeing her weaknesses and she was determined she would not seem weak to Perry now.
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