Who: Felix Weissman and JJ Monroe What: JJ indulges in some Southern Hospitality When: Saturday Night, 03/16/2019 Where: The Bunkhouse - Felix's Room Warnings: Drinking and Minorly-Bad Decisions
She'd just looked at her phone, but her schedule was the same as it had been the first three times she'd checked it in as many minutes. But the information just seemed to slide right off the surface of her thoughts. Maybe seeing it on paper would help solidify it in her head. She kept a hard copy on a clipboard that hung next to her door, the font an obnoxiously large font that couldn't be ignored. Right now it told her the same thing her phone had: she had three minutes until a four hour block of time opened up.
She hadn't wanted to deviate so badly from her schedule in an awfully long time, but there was something about-- With pursed lips in frustration at the direction in which her thoughts brought her, JJ checked the medium-sized package she'd laid on her bed. It, too, hadn't changed in the last twenty minutes since she'd assembled it. There was nothing for it--she was being ridiculous.
A little chime suddenly went off, because evidently if she stopped thinking about time for five seconds it actually went by at relatively normal pace. Funny. After pocketing her phone and grabbing the item off the bed, JJ made her way over to a certain room, whereupon she knocked on Felix's door and just sort of hoped he was in.
Felix had debated heading to the local bar for a bit that evening, but it was much nicer than the sort of establishment he was used to frequenting...which was both a draw and a deterrent. Ultimately, the decision had been made by the stack of paperwork that was currently spread across his bed. It turned out that being Deputy Head came with a fair amount of the stuff, and that the Head Head didn't like it when it was late. He'd tried sitting at his desk like a sensible person, but there was something too stuffy about it. It was far easier to focus sitting cross-legged on his bed.
A knock at the door had him on his feet and scattering the papers, but he was so grateful for the excused interruption that he barely noticed it. He was already smiling even before he saw who was on the other side. "The beauty returns?" He leaned on the door, his smile softening at the edges. "I'm afraid I haven't restocked my mead yet, but I'm sure we can find something to keep us occupied."
"Hi, there." She smiled up at him, and tried not to think too hard about just how hot her face had gotten with just a greeting. (It was anything but just though, really, if she was even half honest with herself.) "Actually, I came to return the favor with the taste of home, if you might be interested." Her package gave a tell-tale clink as she jostled it a little. "I figured it might be a nice way to celebrate our two week friendiversary."
Glancing past him, she could just make out a few papers scattered about. "Am I interruptin' somethin'? I really should've written ahead."
Felix stepped back and opened the door wider, sweeping his free hand dramatically to indicate she should enter. "You are interrupting, and thank Merlin for it. One more inventory list and you might have found me comatose."
He flicked his wand toward the bed and the papers stacked themselves and then floated over to the desk. Even with magic they looked rather sloppily placed, but it felt far more appropriate that way. The bed, likewise, was still rather rumpled from him lounging on it all afternoon, but he thought it looked a lot more inviting that way. He waited until she was inside, closed the door, and then returned to flop on the mattress. He patted the spot next to him.
"What sort of taste of home is this, then?" Some sort of alcohol, he assumed, but the curiosity was strong. He'd had some American liquor before, but he knew there was plenty he hadn't tasted, too. "Two weeks is a rather momentous thing. For several reasons." He was still alive, for one. Big comfort, that one.
There was a rather significant pause as she considered his seating invitation, but it wasn't like they hadn't already been there before. She had vague memories of a similar situation in her own room just a few days back after a few sips of mead. Or was that a few glasses? It was kind of terrible how much of that evening was fuzzy, but she couldn't muster up the usual level of shame that came with such unchecked debauchery. That was probably down to her present company.
JJ sidled up to the bed and began unloading the contents. "Well, for one, I hope you have a sweet tooth, 'cause I have Moon Pies and Goo Goo Clusters. And if your tastes veer more toward the adult variety, I also have--straight from a distillery right in Nashville--Triple Smoke whiskey and good ol' fashioned gin. Compliments of a very grateful fan."
"My tastes always veer in the adult variety," Felix said with a wink, but he poked at the plastic-packaged sweets all the same. Both looked odd, but not any odder than plenty of other foods he'd seen in the various countries he'd visited. "I've had roasted fire ants in South America, among other things. Your hometown is pretty tame in comparison," he teased, reaching for one of the packages and squinting at it. "Though I'm seeing an unusual obsession with marshmallows. Is that a thing?"
He tossed it back into the little pile and reached this time for the two bottles of liquor. "Yes, please," he said, very nearly talking to the bottles themselves, before cracking open the bottle of whiskey and taking a sniff. He raised an eyebrow. "Fancy. Just my speed." A swish of his wand brought a couple of clean glasses their direction, and he grabbed his out of the air. "A fan, hmm? I don't find it hard to believe you've got them after hearing the way you can belt out a tune."
She wagged a finger at him, fixing him with a stern look. "Hey, don't you go knockin' marshmallows. They're a surprisingly versatile snack. Mix 'em with melted butter, and you get Rice Krispie treats. Apply a little heat, add 'em to chocolate and graham crackers and you'll have the tastiest thing you've ever put in your mouth. Up to and includin' South American roasted fire ants." JJ held up her hand, really primed for this argument it seemed. "I'll grant you it's also extremely sticky and can leave you a bit of a mess, but it's totally worth it when you're licking your fingers clean."
Her lips trembled upward a little as he addressed himself to the home-grown alcohol, but she refrained from commenting. It was actually a little cute, but she didn't think he necessarily needed the encouragement. She almost missed her own glass coming toward her as she looked at him curiously. Not that she was sorry for it, but it was still novel to be somewhere where she was this kind of ignorance-is-blissful non-entity. Tearing open one of the Clusters afforded her a few seconds wherein her surprise didn't have to turn awkward. She pinched off an edge of the irregular circle and offered it to him on the end of her finger. "I had… a few."
Felix raised a hand in surrender and laughed. "No knocking, love. Only an observation. And the fire ants aren't something I'd recommend, exactly. They just sound rather impressive on my list of exotic foods I've tried."
He poured a small measure of liquor into his glass and then into hers. His first sip was surprising all over again, as the complexities of the flavor not immediately discernible in the scent ran over his tongue. "Regardless of their potentially questionable taste in sweets, your people have fabulous taste in their alcohol." He flashed her a rather wicked grin and scooted a little closer to grab the bit of chocolate and nuts, letting his lips lightly graze her finger. He kept his eyes on hers as he chewed, thinking less about the food and more about the witch. "Is it traditional to let someone else lick your fingers clean?" he teased.
That heat in her cheeks came back with a vengeance, and JJ had to sit before she did something silly like go all wobbly-kneed and floor-bound. "New Montana tradition. Started right in this here room. I think you might be a trendsetter, Mr. Weissman."
At least her voice was steady enough, though she wasn't sure where it was coming from. It's not like she could blame the whiskey or the gin for any of it. A rather large portion of her own measure disappeared so that she could start blaming things on it. She sighed on the back of the figurative smoke that curled around her throat as an afterthought. "I mean, when all you have is music and broken dreams, you gotta put your energies into alternative artistic pursuits. Otherwise the crazy sets in and it does no one any good. Nashville may have been founded on hope, but really only runs on desperation."
"I do rather like to be ahead of the crowd. You should see my school record and how many times I got detention for trying to improve our dress code. Among other things." Felix waggled his eyebrows before settling back again.
His expression shifted to something more serious as she continued, unsure now whether she was talking about her city's taste in alcohol or something more personal than that. He reached out and ran his fingers under her chin, lightly pulling her gaze toward his, before dropping his hand again. "What do you run on?"
She rolled her eyes with profound sympathy. "Dress codes are the absolute worst. At least HAHA understood the importance of individualistic expression. Which, given that it's an art school, should probably just go without sayin'. All the same, is it too much to hope for photographic proof of these fashion forays?"
His gaze was far more compelling than she really cared to admit, and that simple touch was enough to very nearly drive her to distraction. Very nearly, but not nearly enough. She tried for a smile, but came up short. "Fumes? I had my day in the sun, and it was entirely too bright. Sometimes I wish I'd just stayed in the shade."
"Oh, I'm sure there is. Safely locked up in the caretaker's office in my file, never to see the light of day again."
Felix twisted slightly on the bed so that he could continue to look at her without needing to turn his head. If it meant that his supporting hand rested on the bed just close enough to touch JJ's, then that was a bonus. There was something in her tone and look that struck a chord in him, and not in a particularly comfortable way. They weren't talking about him, and he wasn't entirely sure what this meant about her, but the description was so...familiar. "I don't know. You seem pretty bright to me."
"Aw, dang it! Get a girl's hope up." She pouted at him, but then laughed, ruining the effect entirely.
On a certain level JJ was aware that his shift in movement had brought him closer, but it wasn't a level that she seemed to have access to while thoughts of her recent past jumbled up in her head. It was suddenly noticing his fingers so close to hers that kind of jarred her back to the present and his compliment. She blushed--now wondering if this was going to be her permanent state around this wicked man--but reached a finger out to slide against the side of his palm. With a somewhat bashful smile, she shrugged a shoulder. "You aren't so bad yourself, Fee."
"On the contrary," Felix said, though with a voice that was anything but contrary. It had dropped lower, the combination of her general closeness and—bizarrely—that single finger lingering against his hand getting to him almost as much as her shift in mood. "I am very, very bad. I'm just pretty enough to make up for it," he added, attempting to recover a little levity. "I'd have thought after Wednesday you'd have some idea of that."
He lifted the hand that was holding his glass to stretch out one of the fingers and touch her flushed cheek. "Or maybe you do and are too nice to say."
It was like being caught between something, but JJ couldn't name it. Or maybe she didn't quite want to. That was the truer statement between the two. There was a breathless tension in the room, like it had come over all charged. Primed and waiting for a spark. It would have been smart for her to leave. Smart was overrated. She didn't move away from him even as she laughed out her disbelief. "What's there to say? As I recall we had a lovely--if fuzzy--evenin', and you were a perfect gentleman. If that's you bad, then, hun, I think you're doin' it wrong."
Felix's laugh was the fraternal twin to hers: amused, but with an edge of confusion to it. He washed away the sound with another sip of his whiskey, then sent the glass levitating toward his bedside table. Watching her, a thread of concern was growing in his chest—because he was bad, no doubt, but even he had lines. "Just...how fuzzy?" She'd more alcohol that night at karaoke than she had in her room that night, but it was always possible she'd had some before he showed up.
Why was this all starting to feel like deja vu to her? Her own smile slipped, and she glanced down at her own drink. Setting it to one side seemed like a good idea, but she wasn't even sure if she was steady enough right then to even manage the spell. A low buzz started up in the very back of her head. "I remember right up to the point where I reached up to touch your hair. Everything after is just kinda… hazy?"
Felix frowned as he thought back to that evening, not because his own memories were fuzzy, but because they were very clear on this particular point. He remembered chatting from the desk chair, remembered moving to the bed and telling tall tales, remembered her hands threading through his hair...and he remembered finally cracking open the mead. "JJ..." he started, and once again reached for her chin, wanting to see her eyes. His fingers lingered there on her skin, because he couldn't make himself pull away again. "Did you drink anything before I came over? Or take any potions? Anything?"
She knew with perfect clarity that she had not, and the way that he was looking at her right now frankly terrified her right down to her soul. "No," she whispered, because his hand on her face kept her from shaking her head, even though she didn't want to say the words aloud. In a cruel mockery of what they'd joked about a few days ago, before whatever had happened that night had happened, a single tear ran down her cheek. "I didn't touch a thing."
Shit shit shit shit. The string of curses ran through his head, and Felix couldn't have even said exactly what they were for, because he wasn't sure exactly what was even happening. He watched that tear trail down her face, then swiped it away with the pad of his thumb as it hit her chin. "That was before we drank anything," he said quietly. "And we didn't drink that much anyway. I had half a bottle left when I went back to my room."
He blew out a breath. "You really don't remember? I'm exaggerating when I said I was bad, but...we did kiss, JJ." Quite a lot of kissing, really, for something that didn't progress much beyond that. But he didn't want to scare her any more than he thought she already was.
That buzz was now a roar that beat against the back of her eyes, making it hard to think. It was getting worse, not better. It was supposed to be getting better. She'd specifically taken herself out of a life that she'd wanted, that she'd worked for practically half her life, and apparently her professional sacrifice was going to amount to a sum total of squat. More tears followed the first, but they were born from frustration and anger rather than fear. Her breath hitched, went shaky around the edges.
Right now she just wanted someone to hold her, give her pleasant, reassuring lies, but she wasn't about to ask that of Felix. All of that fear and frustration turned into acid guilt in her stomach when it suddenly occurred to her just what this was probably like for him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I wish I did. You have no idea how much I wish I did. But--" her hand went to the side of his face as she tried to push her earnestness to very fore of her gaze-- "I'd wanted it then. I may not remember, but I know that much. 'Cause I've been wantin' to kiss you since we first met. I'm just--I'm sorry that it's like this. That I'm like this."
"I do tend to have that effect on people," Felix said, and immediately the words felt all wrong. But what was he supposed to say? He still didn't have a clear idea of what sort of this she was, and he had most definitely not come to Snowcap to get wrapped up in other people's problems. And yet, here he was. How the hell did he always, always find himself here?
He brushed his thumb through the tears on her cheek. "I am the last person in the world who deserves your apologies. Or your explanations. Or your kisses. Or anything from you, really. If I was smart, I'd be looking for an excuse to get you out of this room right now, and not because of you. I'm not smart," he added, with a slight quirk of a smile. "But what I am is very, very, very good at finding pleasing ways to not think about problems for awhile." He raised on eyebrow in question.
Try as she might, JJ couldn't help the snorting laugh that his first flip comment elicited, nor the accompanying eye roll that she was becoming more and more certain would be a permanent fixture in their interactions. She wanted to argue with the rest, because, despite his insistence to the contrary, Felix had been kind and charming and--okay, yes--wicked (but in the best way) in all of the brief time she'd known him. His consistent assertions of his badness were belied by his actions as far as JJ was concerned.
And that included this last offer, since the truth was that she really didn't want to think about it anymore. It didn't do anyone any good. Her smile was a little wobbly, but it stayed in place. "I wouldn't say no to a distraction. I probably should, but I'm not going to."
Felix smiled a convincing sort of smile, despite the misgivings that were rumbling in his chest. He was so used to ignoring that little voice telling him that he shouldn't do something that it barely took any effort—especially with this sort of enticement. "'Probably should not' is pretty much the story of my life, so no judgment from me."
The thumb that had traced her tears turned to his whole hand on her cheek, and it drifted so that his fingers trailed under the edge of her jaw and under her ear. He moved slowly, more out of respect of her emotional state than any attempt at self-denial on his part, but gradually leaned in until their noses were touching. Even then, it took a few seconds before he tilted his head slightly, brushing his lips across hers.
There was a familiarity to this that should have been unsettling, because his hand on her face and his mouth on hers was new--yet really not. It wasn't memory, it wasn't a flood of images and sounds and sensations, but somehow she just knew. It wasn't like anything, because she had nothing to compare it to, just this nagging sense of 'I've done this before.' Like deja vu, except about a million times stronger, more visceral. Her eyes were shut, but she knew that all she had to do was adjust her angle a couple of degrees while her fingertips slid against a particular spot on his neck would make this darn near perfect. It sounded clinical. It was anything but. So that was just what she did.
Her response to the kiss went a long way to calm that undercurrent of unease he could still feel, and Felix went with her lead. Slow, almost leisurely, touches of lips and fingers felt right today, where other days it might have gotten under his skin as a new sort of torture. He was never sure which it would be, except that it had a lot more to do with the partner than it did with him. He pressed her back on the bed, searching for the position that was least awkward, and that allowed him the best access to spread those slow kisses down to her throat and collarbone.
Little hums left her, more like tiny snatches of melody rather than sighs or moans. It was like she was composing a song in her head, and bits of it just kept slipping out. Silver memories / flowing outta my head / you're the only song / I can't seem to forget He was right; this had been what she needed right now. She might not be able to recall what had happened before, but she had this at least. Her fingers threaded into his hair, the other hand moving to his shoulder and curving around it. "Fee," she sighed his shortened name. JJ tried hard not to think about how far they would take this, and even harder in wondering just how far they'd gone three nights past.
She might not remember what had happened the last time, but Felix certainly did, and her hands in his hair was a lovely reminder of that first night. He didn't think he had a favorite, because really, it was all his favorite, but her fingers grazing his scalp was definitely his favorite with her. He kissed her pulse, enjoying the way the vibrations from her hums buzzed across his lips. He twitched aside the neckline of her jumper to get at more of the skin of her shoulder, and he was debating how far could legitimately be considered innocent distraction when a loud knock at the door sent him shooting upright.
His heart pounded at double speed, eyes wide and mind jumping to all of the possible sources of that knock. It came again, even louder, and he grabbed for his wand. They'd found him. How they'd managed it after only a few weeks, he didn't know. He hadn't even used his real name on that last job, hadn't used his phone since that idiot Bourgins had broken it.
"Mr. Weissman?" came a call through the wood, much softer and more timid than the knock itself had been. "Are you there?"
"What if he's not there? What are we going to do?" The second voice was even softer, but panicked.
Felix lowered his wand and flashed JJ an apologetic smile that he hoped covered his initial reaction. "Interns," he said with sigh, and then opened the door. "Good evening, my little pitchers. What's the matter?"
The second voice was the one who answered. "We're so sorry, but we couldn't find—"
The other spoke up. "One of the greenhouses. The ceiling collapsed under the snow, and there's glass and wet, and we'd have just cleaned it up, but we didn't want to damage the plants any more than they already were."
"Right, good. Good job. Protection charms on the broken spot, if you haven't already, and then I'll be up in five minutes to show you how to deal with the rest, yes?" It took them a moment to relax, to realize they were being given marching orders, but then finally they turned and nearly ran off toward the front door of the bunkhouse. Felix turned back to JJ as he closed the door, leaning back against it. "See how glamorous my new title is? Can't keep the fans from my door. I'm sure the gifts of liquor will start soon."
Just about a dozen reactions had run through her head, but all of it ended with a sort of half-dazed amusement just barely tinged with frustration. Why on earth did she feel like she'd just escaped being caught doing something--wrong wasn't the right word. Illegal didn't touch it. Morally gray? That had a better ring, but still wasn't the whole of it. And also, why had he seemed to panic for a few seconds. She'd recognized a wild fear in his eyes. Even now her own heart was just beginning to slow. JJ chuckled and shrugged. "I know a sign when I see one. Y'all need help with the repairs? Kind of feel like it might be the least I can do after you've been through the emotional wringer."
Felix smiled and shook his head as he slid his wand into its pocket and pulled on his coat. "Better not. Mixing business and pleasure, appearances of favoritism, etcetera, etcetera." He wasn't JJ's supervisor, of course, but it was better not to make anything awkward quite this early in his newest career. He was especially conscious of keeping his job with the way his blood was still thundering through his veins. He crossed to her and picked up her hand, kissing the back of it. "I'll see you again soon, though?"
With a quick grin, he headed out the door before he could change his mind or delay any further. The door would lock itself up when she left, and when he got back he could add a few more wards and charms...just in case.