RP: The Talk Who: Sofía, Bash What: Bash and Sofía take a step in defining their relationship. When: 18 February 2028, morning (backdated) Warnings: NSFW Completion status: Complete
Before Christmas, Sofía had planned out a good portion of the year. Eight weeks being mentored in potions, eight in herbology, then a final eight in magizoology. After that, she had a final twelve weeks of curse breaking training and assessments before she completed her apprenticeship.
But she’d never planned for Bash. He’d just sort of landed in her life and they’d fallen into whatever this was far so easily.
Yesterday they’d worked an extremely long double shift - or at least Bash had and Sofía had opted to stay with him as he dealt with the intricacies of a particularly difficult potion. It had only seemed natural to go back to the townhouse with him, especially as she’d been sleeping so much better around him. She didn’t know whether it was the mattress or the sex or Bash himself, but something was working for her.
Neither of them were due at St. Mungo’s today, so Sofía took her time getting dressed. She smoothed her hair back into a ponytail, contemplating what to do with her day. Quality time with her cat - if Queenie would even let her - was the only thing that came to mind.
"I should probably stay at my place tonight," she said as she turned to Bash, though her tone made it very clear that was the last thing she wanted to do. It was a challenge to Bash to invite her to stay; they both knew she would if he asked. At this point, they'd probably spent more time together than apart since the day they'd met, especially since their first night of intimacy. As much as she loved numbers and calculations, Sofía wasn't sure she wanted to test that hypothesis, though, because that was more than a little intense.
Brilliantly, scarily, exhilaratingly intense. “Oh?” Bash asked, wondering why the pointed change. She’d stayed over most nights since their first intimate evening, and he wondered for a moment if she felt smothered. He didn’t exactly know how much was too much when it came to a relationship. Was this a relationship?
That question had plagued him. She hadn’t brought it up, but it had been nagging at the back of his mind anyway.
“Is your flatmate missing you?” He asked with a roguish smile, reaching for her hips from where he sat on his bed, dressed in just sweatpants, his hands just the right height to grasp her hips - in her perfect skirt, a look which always drove him nuts on her - and pulled her closer to him.
“I know I would,” he ventured, moving to kiss her clothed stomach, feeling a little bit vulnerable and hoping it wasn’t too much if she was trying to take space.
He’d become accustomed to having her in his bed, all night, giving her pleasure as many times as she could stand and then curling her little body up in his and sleeping soundly next to her warmth. As predicted, any sort of challenge in her immediately evaporated. Sofía sighed softly, her hands coming to his head. “No, she’s not.” Lily was just as independent as she was and it was one of the reasons that they made good flatmates. Auror training was even more intense than curse breaking.
That smile of his, one that Sofía felt was just for her, made her melt a little. “I’d miss you too.” Her hands slid down his soft hair to rest on Bash’s bare shoulders. “I just don’t want you getting sick of me. Sometimes I feel like…” She rolled her eyes at her own ridiculous thoughts. “Like I’d stay every night if I could.”
Sofía tried to rein in those big feelings. She had to be sensible around him sometimes. “We’ve only got a few more weeks working together,” Sofía said quietly. There was always a chance that whatever this was had an end date. When she repeated his feeling - admitting she’d miss him, too - he felt a lump in his throat. Was it nerves? Panic? Or relief?
He looked up at her from through his lashes, from where his face was nearly buried in her midsection, with a small smile. He’d keep her every night if he could. Her voice grew quiet, though, and he watched her closely. It was true. How was he to return to the every day at the Hospital without her company? Without her little giggles and gasps and the nervous energy he felt around her every moment at the lab?
It was then that he had an idea.
He sat back, looking up at her fully now. “Can I show you something?” He watched her closely, again, this time for her reaction. She definitely could never have planned for Bash. Sofía loved puzzles and Bash was a conundrum all of his own, surprising her constantly with different hidden parts of his personality. She liked to think that no one else got to see him the way she did. From the way he was holding her so close, as though she might leave that instant, she’d expected him to pull her down onto the bed with him.
Sofía tilted her head slightly, curiosity piqued. “Of course you can.” When she agreed, his smile turned radiant, and then shy. It was silly, what he wanted to show her, but it was maybe the most important thing in the world to him. He moved her back slightly and stood, reaching up the bed for a henley to throw on, leaving his feet bare. “Come with me,” he said simply, taking her hand and leading the way.
They headed out from his bedroom and down into the shared living spaces of the townhouse, and then down one more floor, to a magic space added to the home by his father. It consisted of two labs - his own and Liam’s - and had reinforcements of Muggle and magical sorts. His private lab was his sanctuary - when drink and women and Thomas did help, he retreated here in his worst of tempers, the quiet, cool darkness a balm on his volatile soul. He’d spent much less time here in the last month.
When they came to the door he mumbled the password - like Hogwarts’ days - and then led the way in, incanting soft light to illuminate the surprisingly spacious area.
“This is my lab,” he said, suddenly feeling so stupid. It was just a lab. They spent so much of their time in one at the hospital, he didn’t know - suddenly - why this was any different or if she would understand the significance. Although she had seen the shared areas of the house, Sofía had been clueless that there was another floor. Professionally, she was a little annoyed at herself, especially as she could feel the gentle thrum of magical protection once she was standing in front of the door, having become more sensitive to that sort of thing over the last year.
Half-expecting some sort of dungeon, Sofía’s lips parted in surprise as she realised that this was a potioneer’s retreat. Even though she had never set foot in the room before, she felt a sense of familiarity that she couldn’t place. It was very much like the lab at St. Mungo’s and she could name many more pieces of equipment than she would have been able to a few weeks ago. Even without training, anyone could tell that the apparatus was all high quality.
But unlike St. Mungo’s which felt clinical and stressed, humidity and deadlines clogging up the air, there was a peaceful sense here. That was when Sofía realised why it was familiar. “It’s lovely. It feels like you in here.” So that’s why his bedroom was purely functional - it wasn’t really his room. Blushing, she looked up at him. “Sometimes when I watch you work, it’s almost like you’re meditating. Your lab feels like that.” She was so... Insightful. Had Bash ever been seen like this before? Really seen? He covered for his deepening, confusing feelings with a cockeyed smirk, “I don’t know that I’ve ever been described as ‘lovely’ before.”
And then he felt bad, he’d basically insulted her soul-breeching compliment. “But thank you,” he added, his bravado softened.
He crowded her a bit now, pushing her gently so that his clean, worn workbench - built into the rough-hewn wall - was at her back, and then kissed her, deeply, as if to smooth over his momentary flash of sarcasm with his mouth. His lips moved to her jaw and then down her neck. “Stay with me again tonight,” he said between kisses, every night, he wanted to say, the words there on the tip of his tongue, but that was insane and so instead he nipped at her collarbone, pushing her sweater’s high-collar of loose fabric as he went. His arms were around her, hands tight on the table, caging her in between his body and the workbench. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt so wound up.
She was the first person he’d allowed in this room. Ever. The flash of arrogance she saw didn’t hurt Sofía’s feelings at all, not after getting to know him for the last few weeks. Bash just wasn’t the soft and squishy type, except for perhaps brief moments like just before he’d brought her down here. He was complex; Sofía liked complex.
As he kissed her, a flare of heat cut through her. If calling him lovely was going to get a reaction like this, she’d do it ten times a day.
“Yes,” she breathed, eyes closed as she felt his lips move across her pulse point again. Always. Much like Bash, she had taken to wearing tank tops at the lab to combat the heat, throwing on a nice sweater for times when she needed to leave the lab. Since it was her day off she’d wanted to wear something different, but now she was regretting that.
Her dark eyes glinted with mischief. When Bash lifted his head just enough, she claimed his lips with a heated kiss of her own. Her answer settled some restlessness in his gut, and his split-second of surprise when she kissed him fiercely faded just as quickly as it had sparked. But the deeper feeling - the illusive reason that he’d brought her down here in the first place hadn’t. He broke off the kiss with a near savagery and put his forehead to hers. He’d wanted to talk for ages now, or, he supposed he had - that question gnawing at him, haunting him, since he’d met that Kenzie girl in Diagon. He breathed hard, sure he was confusing the hell out of her but instead of explaining he blurted, his heart racing a mile a minute, “Stay mine. Stay tonight as mine.” It was not his most eloquent moment - not that he’d had many of those in his lifetime - but he hoped she knew what he meant. This shouldn’t end just because her training ended; this shouldn’t remain ambiguous when somewhere deep inside - perhaps in the heart he’d always questioned he even had? - he knew it wasn’t.
He waited - breathless, his forehead against hers, his hands digging into her thighs and his gaze never leaving hers - for her answer. Stay mine. Sofía’s head spun and she didn’t think it was from the kiss. Another surprise, one that resonated with her deeply. For a petite woman, she’d developed big feelings, feelings she sometimes felt like she could hardly contain. If he hadn’t had her caged against the workbench like this, maybe they would have dissipated into the air, but instead they were contained to their private bubble. She replayed the words in her head, committing the way Bash said them to memory.
She nodded, face still pressed to his. “Yes,” she whispered, relieved and exhilarated in equal measure. “I think I’ve been yours since we met.” Sofía’s hands grasped at his slim hips, just as possessive of Bash as he sounded about her. At her little whisper, he nodded, encouraging her, his fingers digging even more deeply into her hips - he’d probably leave bruises but at the moment the thought didn’t even occur to him. If it had, something inside of him may have roared, ‘good, let them see’.
He kissed her now, harshly, unable to restrain himself, his hands moving to quickly disregard her sweater, only breaking the kiss long enough to get it over her head and toss it to the side. During a moment to breathe, he muttered charms against the door behind him, and pulled at his own long-sleeve tee desperately. She wore a tank under her jumper, and a lacy, lovely bralette under that and he pulled at the neckline of both, pulled them down until he could pull a perfect, pert nipple into his mouth with an obscene sound of relief and need and lips against skin. He groaned her name as his teeth grazed the hard nub, needing her with a feeling of urgency that shocked and slightly scared him. Sofía liked this side of things, when he didn’t treat her like porcelain. The press of his fingers into her thighs made her feel powerful somehow but, more than that, also reassured that she wasn’t the only one who wanted more out of being together. Sometimes it seemed to Sofía that he was made for her and this was definitely one of those times.
She licked her lips as Bash removed his henley, her fingers almost immediately going to his chest. Sofía had come to love the way that he wasn’t perfectly smooth, toying with his hair during intimate moments. But this didn’t feel like a time for gentle explorations. She gasped, feeling another rush of heat flash through her as he exposed her breasts and that maddening mouth of his closed around a sensitive peak.
The gasp turned to a low moan, every part of her coming alive and needing his touch. When he said her name like that, how could she possibly not get even more turned on? Sofía’s hands grasped at the edge of the worktop, hoping desperately that some of the spellwork on his lab included silencing charms. Bash ached with need for her but wanted to christen his lab, his workbench with something specific, first. He gave both of her nipples one last nip and lick playfully before his face changed - there was something intense about his gaze as he held her eyes with his own. He left her shirt and bra pulled down haphazardly as they were and lifted her smoothly from her feet to be seated on the workbench, her legs dangling over the side, her arse barely on the thing.
And then, he dropped in one swift motion to his knees.
Bash reached out for her panties first, pulling them slowly - painfully slowly - down her slender legs as she lifted her backside shortly to accommodate him, and then he stuffed them into the pocket of his sweatpants, for safekeeping, sure.
His hands didn’t reach for the zipper of her little plaid skirt, though, there was something so... wrong about her perched like this, in her prim little skirt, that it made him groan to himself. He wanted her screaming his name in her little skirt making an utter mess of his most sacred space - kind of like she’d already done to his heart (there’s that thought again) and mind. “Touch your tits, sweetheart, please,” he asked her with pleading eyes and a desperate edge to his voice before diving between her legs with abandon. He nipped and licked and sucked at her core until she was a shaking mess of babbling and orgasms and his chest burned with pride. Holding his gaze, Sofía had to wonder what Bash saw as he looked up at her now. Her lips were reddened from desperate kisses, boobs pushed up by the fabric bunched beneath them. The trail of his mouth across her skin caught the soft light of the lab, almost glistening. Wanton was a word that Sofía had thought belonged solely to novels, but it came to her now, entirely appropriate for the way she was feeling with this man on his knees in front of her.
His words were hard and soft at the same time, a needy noise escaping her as if in agreement: yes, she needed to touch herself, that was an excellent idea. A hand still gripping at the worktop, Sofía’s slight fingers toyed with her taut nipples, her head tipping back as she lost herself to the feel of his mouth. As he drove her to orgasm, a leg now over his shoulder to open herself up to him, the movements of her hand became stilted until finally all the sensations in her body became one.
“Dios mío.” If not for the grip of fingers that seemed to be moulded to her thighs, Sofía thought she might end up in a puddle on the floor. A second tremor rolled through her, an aftershock, and Sofía tugged at Bash’s hair to pull him away. Merlin, he knew how to set her on fire; she burned for him with thoughts of being bent over the same workbench she was clutching at, with thoughts of being held tenderly as they fell asleep and called sweetheart. Me encantas.
She felt fiercely possessive of him at that moment, giving his hair another gentle tug. Was it normal to feel like this about someone after just a few weeks? Sofía found she didn’t care. “You’re mine too, corazón.”