Seamus allowed his partner to pick out the room she wanted from those remaining. They got to a door just before Harry and Tracey, and Ron and Pansy, and so weren't the last ones in, even though Lavender was clearly dragging her feet. The room's décor, however, left much to be desired, as it was too bloody white, so with a thought, he changed it to something they might both be more comfortable with: the Gryffindor common room.
His ex-girlfriend looked about, shocked as the room changed every aspect of itself to suit his wishes. "That is one thing about the Room of Requirement I will never get used to," she admitted, shaking her head.
"Ye've been here a'fore then?" Seamus asked, taking off his jacket and jumper, tossing them both over the familiar russet-red couch, and then lounging back into the corner of the sofa. The magically-lit hearth directly across from him gave off no heat; it was merely ambiance for the room, as the lighting had dropped to the common room's usual somewhat dim levels.
Lavender took the cozy chair directly next to the sofa, facing him. "Once," she admitted. "On a date."
"Wit' one o' me mates?" he asked, smiling, working on fighting his Irish lilt, trying to sound more British. It had been his goal for the past year to 'clean up' his accent, so that people could better understand him. His brogue was always thickest right after returning to school from a holiday break or when he was a tad nervous – like now.
Lavender looked at him askance and cleared her throat. "Aren't we on a time limit to perform these things?" she asked, holding up her card. "Not that I'm particularly rushing to do them, but…"
Seamus' good humor deflated. "I thought ta make this easier for ya, angel. Ta get used ta me," he explained. "My card, ya see… it's a wee bit… frisky."
His partner's lids flared wide and she paled. "How frisky?"
He read the card aloud to her:
DEED: Your partner has to kiss your neck, ears, face and lips as you instruct them.
When he glanced back over at his witch, she was frowning. In fact, she looked almost a tad rebellious, as if she were contemplating forfeiting. Truthfully, he'd been looking forward to this reward, as it seemed a nice place for them to start over, but as he watched her hands clench in her lap and her gaze fall to the floor in consternation, he knew she honestly didn't want to be there with him or touching him like that again. The idea was sobering.
"Do ya want ta talk some more?" he asked, wanting to make this easier on her. "I don't mind easin' inta this with some conversation."
It took her another minute of contemplation before she hesitantly shook her head. "No, that wouldn't help."
With a sigh, she stood, dropped her card on the chair she vacated, and crossed to him. "Um, how do you want to do this? Maybe you should stand up and-" Seamus decided that it was time to throw her off; she was thinking too much about this and getting herself worked-up. Leaning forward, he grabbed both her hands and yanked, cutting off her thought and dropping her directly into his lap. She stumbled into position over him, her knees falling exactly where he'd hoped: to either side of his legs.
"This is where ya'll want ta be," he teased, smiling.
Shocked, Lavender just sat there, her face inches from his, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. Anger, however, quickly replaced her momentary astonishment. She sat back on his thighs and scowled, and he knew from the way her hands shot to her waist – a stance his Mam had perfected when squaring off with him - that a scolding was coming. He thought it the cutest expression he'd ever seen on her. "Other women may fall for that, Finnigan, but I won't let you push me around," she declared, glaring at him. "That means no pawing me. The card doesn't say you get to touch this time. I could call what you just did a foul."
His jaw dropped. She wouldn't! Not over something that insignificant. "Was only a wee bit o' teasing, love. I meant no harm." He put his hands up between them in innocent protest. "Ya have me promise not ta touch ya again during yer turn, all right?" He promptly shoved both hands down the sides of the couch cushions and trapped them there, trying to look thoroughly chastised and apologetic.
Lavender gave him a wary, measured stare, and nodded, accepting his contrite admission of wrongdoing. Her gaze then wandered, rather unconsciously he thought, to his lips. "So, um… I have to kiss you." He gave her a wicked smile. "As I want ya ta," he reminded her. "It's me reward, after all." He licked his lips, thinking of a good starting point, watching his partner's cheeks redden with heat and her eyes glaze with passion. Oh, yeah, she was already feeling it, wasn't she? The effect of his blood's magic was quick to pull at his female partners, he knew. "I'd like ya ta start at me neck," he tilted his head to the right. "Kiss all up and down now, leavin' no bit untouched."
Lavender looked positively distraught, but with a sigh, bent her lips to his throat and pressed down. Her kisses were fast and chaste as she rushed to finish. He wouldn't be having any of that!
"Slower. Take yer time," he coaxed into her ear, which was right next to his lips. "Relax. Enjoy me. I canna touch ya, remember?" He felt her throat convulse around a nervous swallow against him as she did as he bade, letting her mouth slow in its contact, let it linger a bit over each spot it touched.
"That's it, love. Take control o' me, ya?" he encouraged, already aroused by her scent and just the idea of her touching him again in any capacity. He'd waited two years to get back here with this witch, and hadn't realized until just then how much he'd missed her in this way. Somehow, Lavender had a hold on him that no other witch had been able to match. He wondered if it didn't have something to do with his mother's heritage... "Use yer tongue and give me wet kisses. Ahhh, yes! Like that, sweet angel." He shivered when her kisses melded into soft, moist things that lathered across his throat, right over his quickly beating pulse. "Leave me a love bite, will ya? Right there." Lavender did as he wanted, suckling hard on a particular spot that shot fire straight down through his spine and into his trousers. "Yes, leave yer mark on me," he begged, loving the idea.
After long seconds of concentrated sucking on the one spot, she lifted her mouth away and sat back, turning his head a bit to examine her work.
"Did ya like doing that ta me, angel?" he asked, watching her from the corner of his vision as her fingertips traced around the spot she'd just bruised. "Tell me the truth. Did ya?"
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