Summersmut Mod (summersmutmod) wrote in hp_summersmut, @ 2007-09-05 11:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | lavender brown, lavender/neville, neville longbottom |
[FIC] sea lavender: neville/lavender (Part 2)
Originally Posted Here on 29 August 2006
Title: sea lavender
Recipient: coffee_n_cocoa
Author: safillevendredi
Pairings: Neville/Lavender (with a wee bit of Neville/Ginny)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 11,000
Warnings: Mutual masturbation
Summary: Something packed away is said to be "in lavender." Seventh year fic dealing with the repercussions of Half-Blood Prince that people tend to forget about.
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are the property of JK Rowling. Botanical information collected from the internet at large.
A/N: byronyraven, I swear that I sat down intending to write you a Neville/Ginny story, so I'm sorry that this isn't precisely what you had in mind and I hope that you like it ♥ I'm sorry that the length ran away from me, but I promise that you have at least a thousand words worth of smut (and I managed to include some of your more vanilla special requests). Special thanks go to K, who never has a bad word to say about my writing, to J for the beta and hand holding, and to thescarletwoman, who is twice as patient as any one person should ever have to be.
Part One
It is the night before the first day of winter hols and Neville has just finished rounds and wished Pansy a happy Christmas. He's walking down the hall to the portrait hole when he stops short where he stands, because Terry Boot is fixed there in a rumpled shirt looking embarrassed and trying to support a squirming Lavender Brown.
"Okay there, Terry?" he asks, not quite sure what's going on.
"Neville," he says, clearly relieved. "There was a party and I think Lavender had too much to drink."
As he gets closer, he can start to smell the alcohol on her. "But where were… Pansy and I checked… Never mind," he says, shaking his head bemusedly. "I don't want to know. Thanks for bringing her back, I can take her from…" Neville pauses, cocking his head and thinking. "Actually, can you cover your ears for a second?"
Terry grins, his cheeks a little too flushed. "Sorry, but my hands seem to be a bit full." He squeezes Lavender for emphasis, hands curled around her back and hip, and she sighs into his shoulder.
"Right," Neville says, trying not to feel foolish. "Well, you didn't hear this, then." He closes his eyes and wishes that the common room is empty, before whispering "Stockings" to the Fat Lady. He climbs through easily, then turns around and holds out his arms.
"Okay there, Lavender?" he says. "We're going to help you through."
For his part, Terry helps loop Lavender's arms around Neville's neck. Unfortunately, Lavender is tall for a girl, so even though Neville leans back as much as he can and Terry is helping boost her through, she still manages to catch a foot on the portrait hole. She stumbles forward a little, so Neville ends up with an armful of pliant girl, her breasts pressed against his chest.
"Sorry," Lavender says in a breathy giggle, directly into his ear.
Neville shivers as a wave of gooseflesh ripples down his back and Terry grins at him.
"I think I've got her," Neville says, to break the awkward moment. "Thanks again for bringing her back and everything."
"No problem," Terry says with a wave, heading back down the hall. "Happy Christmas."
The Fat Lady swings back into place, blocking Terry from view, so Neville begins to slowly turn them both around. If her fumble through the entrance wasn't proof enough, Lavender is leaning against him so heavily that it is out of the question to send her up to her room alone; she would never make it. Unfortunately, it appears as if the universe had been listening to his wish, because the common room is empty. He sighs and tightens his hold around Lavender's waist, walking slowly to the girl's staircase.
Hoping that he hadn't used up his supply of good luck quite yet, Neville closes his eyes and hopes before saying before saying, "Clematis," quite clearly. He cautiously puts a foot on the first step and when nothing happens, he opens his eyes. "Come on, Lavender," he says cajolingly, "up we go."
It takes her half a flight of stairs before she seems to get the hang of walking up them, but even then it's still slow going. "Which room is yours?" Neville asks.
"At the top," Lavender says. She lets go of the handrail to gesture, but lurches forward instead.
"Whoa, steady," Neville says, holding her tighter. "Come on, Lavender. One foot in front of the other and then we'll get you into bed."
She rests her forehead against his jaw and hums happily. "That sounds nice," she says dreamily.
Neville doesn't say anything to that, but his cheeks feel hotter than they should, even with Lavender breathing against him.
Eventually they make it to the top of the staircase. Neville coaxes Lavender to lean fully against him by wrapping her free arm around his neck, so that he has an empty hand to open the door.
"Here we are," he says unnecessarily, leading them into the room and kicking the door shut.
He's not exactly sure what he expected to see, but it's so dark that it's nearly a moot point. There is only a single candle, wrapping one of the beds in an inviting cocoon of light. The room seems just like his though, from the curtains on the beds and the worn rug to the two empty beds, keeping watch like mausoleums.
He manages to get her to the bed and carefully lowers her to sit on the edge. Neville pauses for a moment, with a knee on the bed, waiting for Lavender to get her balance. She appears to be sitting under her own power, so Neville decides to chance it and begins to slowly unwind her arms from his neck. The plan is to take off her shoes and tuck her under the blankets before going back to his room and sleeping through breakfast.
Lavender, on the other hand, has a significantly different idea. Instead of letting go, she pulls him closer and Neville's weight combined with her unexpected strength is more than enough to send them falling the rest of the way to the bed. Suddenly Neville finds himself staring at her swollen lips and fancies that he can feel their bruised heat. She makes a happy little hum that is enough to snap him back into his body and he wonders how he ever could have left it, because her body is so soft and welcoming under his. He freezes and she takes advantage, leaning up to kiss him.
Despite the short distance, her aim is a trifle off and kisses the corner of his mouth, but she refuses to be deterred. Instead, she licks a hot stripe from one side of his mouth to the other, then back to the center. She is forceful and pliant, slowly opening his mouth with a series of nipping kisses.
He starts to kiss her back hesitantly, returning the dim flickers of tongue. The soft slide of her mouth is seductive, and he is completely unprepared for the sharp, burning taste of her mouth, driving him out of the kiss and into his senses with a gasp.
"No," he protests, panting a little. "No, Lavender, you're drunk. I should - I should go," he says, rolling off of her and onto his side.
She refuses to let him go and pushes him onto his back. "No," she says, burrowing her face into his neck. "Stay," she whispers, pressing it into his skin. Lavender drags her fingers on the other side of his neck, then walks them down his chest. "Please, Neville," she breathes, teeth closing lightly on his earlobe. "I could…," she continues, but Neville doesn't hear it.
The hand trying to delve its way between his shirt and trousers is far more distracting. He yelps, voice higher than it should be, and grabs her wrist. "No, Lavender, stop."
"But then you'll leave, and I don't want you to," she says sniffling, her mood changing quicksilver fast.
Neville closes his eyes and swallows, because this is all so fucking surreal. He is in bed with a girl who has her hand under his clothes, desperately eager to please and he has to stop. He has to stop and figure out just how to -
"Please," she whispers again, sounding broken.
His heart forgets how to beat between one moment and the next. "Okay," he says simply, letting go of her wrist to finger the wand in his pocket.
He stiffens when the hand under his shirt slides up his chest, but she rests it with her fingers splayed over his heart. He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and summons a blanket from one of the vacant beds, covering them both.
She settles into him with a sigh. "Thank you. It gets lonely here, sometimes," she whispers, drifting off.
He turns his head a little and presses a kiss to her hair.