Floo Screw #1 Who: Ashanti and Wesley What: Floo goes crazy, and dreams come true. Dream, nightmare, same thing right? Where: Wesley's bedroom When: Monday after/during craziness Rating: Swearing, but otherwise low Status: Logged; complete
It was with a bit of a sigh that Ashanti hooked her earring in place and stood in front of the mirror for a moment, checking that she looked perfect. It wasn't that she normally didn't, or she even went out of her way to care, but she was somewhat conscious that she finally had a few nights to herself and that she maybe had gone to the office a couple times with the same clothes she wore the day before (washed, remixed, but definitely the same clothes). Oh Salazar, she was one of those girls, walk of shame and all. She didn't like not being in control, and this thing with Angus was certainly out of control. She liked the sex, but she was fully now in a place where she was afraid it was getting dangerously close to dating and she didn't want that. Angus seemed sweet and all, but her interest was primarily in him without clothes on. It certainly wasn't worth a client thinking less of her because she was wearing (laundered, but still!) yesterday's suit.
So, convinced she looked as fierce as ever, Ashanti made her way to the Floo, intending to get to the office a bit early today. Nothing says "I'm In Fucking Charge" like getting to the office before the cleaning staff. She smiled just thinking of it. New day, new challenges, and Ashanti was on the top of her fucking game. Well, being rattled by the competition aside. She wouldn't ever (EVER) let him know she was rattled, but it was still there. Perhaps that added another layer to her resolve to show up at work looking like the badass cold hearted bitch she knew and loved. Yes. Perhaps that. Not obsessing about it any longer, she stepped into the floo, grabbed some powder, and said the name of her agency. "Lotus Flower Associates," she said clearly, and off she whisked.
But something was wrong. She could sense it, almost immediately, when a 1 minute Floo ride suddenly seemed so much longer. She felt a welling of panic and before she could do anything (scream? Call for help? There was no owl in a floo. FUCK), she was spit out into an unfamiliar grate, and she nearly fell onto a bed nearby. She stopped herself, looking up in shock as she found herself in a strange bedroom. "What the-" she started, confused, until she looked down and her stomach dropped through the floor.
Whatever happened, she was now standing in the bedroom of Wesley Fucking Steele, and he was looking at her with the biggest shite-eating grin she had ever seen.
"Oh for fuck's sake!"
After a weekend full of schmoozing and recruiting, Wes was giving himself a Monday off. He had something like three months of vacation saved up that he’d refused to use. But after a rather grating meeting with a client’s management on Friday morning, he’d decided one actual day of rest -- with no Quidditch games to keep on top of -- might be nice. He couldn’t have imagined just how nice it would be. Though he was normally up at the crack of dawn, he’d actually managed to sleep through the glaring sunlight coming in through his bedroom window. That was until he heard it.
Having your floo in your bedroom was a blessing and a curse. Easy for dating, rough for sleeping soundly. So, when Wes heard the familiar sound of someone coming through he sat up abruptly. He hadn’t lifted his wards recently for anyone, had he? At first he was preplexed and ready to strike...that was, until he saw her. He wasn’t sure why Ashanti was flooing into his fucking bedroom so early in the morning, but a shit-eating crossed his face as all the possibilities ran through his head.
As she spoke, he tried hard to contain his laughter. After staring at her for a moment, he spoke.
“So you finally came to your senses,” it wasn’t a question. In one swift motion he pulled the covers back from the other side of his bed and patted the pillow-top mattress. “You won’t regret it.”
She wanted to scream, or SOMETHING, but it was bad enough some stupid floo problem had landed her here, the last thing she needed was to give him the satisfaction of a scene. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms at his stupid gesture. "I didn't come to fucking anything, I was on my way to the office and somehow I ended up here. Trust me, there's a long list of places I would want to accidentally end up, and this is so far down it it's through the fucking floor." She went back to the floo, stealing a pinch of his powder. "And with that, I'm out of here." She paused for a second, looking at him on the bed. Goddamn it, she thought, annoyed with herself as she lingered, because she hesitated only because he WAS rather attractive in bed. "Sorry for waking you. Even if it wasn't my fucking fault." Which was true, but she wasn't sure why she was apologizing. Shaking her head again, she hopped in the grate and threw the powder, saying her destination. And...nothing. Fan-fucking-tastic, she thought, stomping her foot in the grate. Yes, this was just what she needed today.
Stepping out of the grate, her face red, she looked at him and ran a hand through her hair, annoyance on her face. "It's not working," she said, a bit pointlessly. Clearly since she was still fucking standing in his bedroom, it hadn't worked. He didn't need a commentary. She crossed her arms again and shook her head. She hated apparrating, but when times called for it..."I guess I'm apparrating then," she said, preparing the three Ps in her head. One, two, three....nothing. Not even a sputter. And worst of all, she was standing in the middle of Wesley's Steele's bedroom with no apparently easy way out, having just made awesome apparrition faces. Perfect. She slapped her hands to her sides in frustration, and resisted the urge to stomp her foot again, but given he was standing right there...
"Well, so...where the fuck do you live again? Because clearly those forms are out...." She finally looked at him again, mortified. As if he didn't manage to fluster her under the best of circumstances.
"I guess I'm walking to work." In fucking 6 inch heels, obviously.
The utter glee that Wes was getting from Ashanti looking frustrated as hell was evident on his face. As she stomped around his room trying to get back through the floo, he didn’t say a damn word. It was nice to see her irate at something other than him at once -- all the hotness without the glaring. Instead he just watched her. And he didn’t have to say a thing all that time, because she couldn’t seem to shut up about the situation. Wes didn’t buy for a minute that she wasn’t keen on talking to him. She seemed far too interested in what he had to say for her to be so bothered by him. That was utter bullshit. Just as much bullshit as he assumed this whole act with her floo being busted was.
When she couldn’t even apparate out, Wes busted out in a hollering laughter. “You are not walking to work,” he said. “It would take you all day.” Again he patted the bed beside him. “Might as well just cut the shite and take what you came here for.” With that, he laid back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head as if to encourage her to take the reins.
Ashanti leveled a steely glare at him, her annoyance directed as much at whatever evil god arranged this as the man lying on the bed in front of her. He was right about it taking all day, she realized as she glanced outside. This was Diagon. Soci was on the other fucking side of London. She closed her eyes and rubbed the spot between her eyes and sat down on the edge of his bed in frustration. Far away from him, of course, but she needed to sit down. Just for a second.
"Look, I didn't do this on purpose. There's something weird going on. So I didn't come here for...whatever the fuck you think I came here to do. I just wanted to get to fucking work. Speaking of," she said, opening her eyes and flicking them towards him for a moment. "What are you still doing in bed? Didn't take you for the lazy type," she said, raising an eyebrow. Why wasn't she just walking out the door? At this rate, she'd need a cab and then to walk to the office...she would certainly not be the first to arrive, which was part of the whole plan. Fuck this day, seriously. "I assume it must have been a late night trying to figure out how to be a bigger dick."
Even if she hadn’t done it on purpose, Wes couldn’t discount his good luck. Something in the universe was clearly telling her that she should be in his bedroom -- might as well be in his bed at that point. He thought maybe he shouldn’t tell her that, but when did Wesley fucking Steele ever talk himself out of a shag. “Look, clearly the universe is trying to tell you something Ashanti,” he said with a smarmy look. “You get sent here by floo and have no other way into work. Clearly you were meant to take those awful, awful shoes off and climb into bed with me.”
He glanced over at his clock briefly then back to her. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “You don’t even have to touch me. You can build a fucking pillow fort around yourself if you want. You just ge--climb on in and we go back to sleep for a few hours and maybe I’ll even make you breakfast.”
There must have been something wrong with her, clearly, because instead of yelling, and stomping her feet, and insisting he was a sleazeball (which he clearly is), Shanti felt her resolve slipping, though she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She sighed and stood, giving him a roll of her eyes. Which was actually nearly a friendly gesture, for her, when it came to HIM. "My shoes aren't awful," she said, ignoring the entirety of his offer, and avoiding looking at how (smarmy smile aside) ridiculously adorable he looked at the moment, still rumpled from sleep. She shook her head and made her way to his door, and went to turn the handle. Nothing.
Without turning around (she didn't want to risk looking at him), she considered. He probably just had his door locked. She could unlock the door and walk to get a cab. Leave with her dignity somewhat still attached. Why was she so fixated on her hate of him? Why did she keep dreaming about him? Why the fuck had she landed in his goddamn bedroom instead of her own office? She gripped his door handle, resolve wavering. After what seemed like eternity, she turned around and sighed.
She kicked off her heels and walked towards the bed, leveling a death glare at him. "You tell a soul about this and I will find you and make sure you enjoy a very painful death. Understood?"
Wes raised a critical brow as Ashanti fiddled with the door. He may not have thought she was the brightest of people, but surely she could figure out a muggle lock? Whatever, he wasn’t going to push his luck, and he was particularly glad he decided to sit in silence watching her when she turned around. A gleeful smile appeared on his face as he flipped up the comforter for her. Shivering slightly at the cold air on his toasty warm body he patted the bed impatiently.
“Yeah yeah,” he said with mock annoyance. “Just get your arse in here before you let out all the warmth. T-shirts are in the bottom dresser drawer if you want one.” If Wes was a nice guy he’d have gotten out of bed and got her one, but he’d hardly gotten her to agree to get into it, and he didn’t want to spoil her with the surprise under the sheets. No, he wasn’t naked. But he was flexing his legs awful hard to counteract the physical reactions to the thought of her in his bed. Fucking male hormones.
Reaching onto his bedside table, Wes grabbed his want and with a soft mutter cloned about a dozen pillows which fell onto the bed. “There,” he said. “You have protection.”
She thought for a moment about making a stink, or about laying down in her work clothes, but she wouldn't be able to sleep knowing she was wrinkling designer, and besides...she was already being crazy, she might as well go whole hog. She made a twirling motion with her finger saying, "Fine, turn your head, dammit," before reaching into the indicated drawer to pull the first shirt out that she could find. She wasn't sure why she bothered, but she waited until he did before she quickly stripped and threw the shirt on, and then walked closer to the bed. "I mean it," she said, waiting for him to turn around and made clear eye contact before she got in bed. She glanced at the huge pile of pillows and had to laugh a little. "About the murdering thing. I have two large, Tamil brothers who would love nothing more than shoving your face through a meat grinder. So." She was smiling as she said it, which undermined the severity of the statement, of course.
After a second more of hesitation, she sighed and hopped in the bed, pulling the covers over her. The bed WAS rather warm, actually, and surprisingly soft. She smiled as she smelled his pillowcase. It was a lot cleaner than most men's beds, and a lot more comfortable. She paused for a second before turning towards him, slapping down a pillow pile to actually look at him. She wasn't sure what the shit she was doing, and was pretty sure she had gone temporarily insane, but here she was. "Your bed is soft," she said, lamely.
Dutifully, Wes turned his head, even going as far to pull a pillow over his face. “You act like I’ve never seen a fucking naked chick,” he said. He began fist pumping and gyrating his hips, pillow still firmly over his face. “Uh yeah yeah take it off mmm yeah!” Okay, maybe he was being a bit outrageous, but Ashanti was being ridiculous herself. Unless she was a fucking virgin..... but nah. Wes was pretty sure that girl had no self control, evident by her climbing into bed with him. Even more proof that she was making bad decisions.
When he finally felt her weight on the bed, Wes tossed the pillow off, wedging it between them. “Careful!” he said with a tone of mock drama. “I don’t want you fucking touching me. I told you just sleeping. I don’t want to see your hands creeping over this pillow trying to feel me up. You hear me?” As if he’d drawn a line, he huffed and rolled on his back, a smirk on his face. So, Ashanti was in his bed and here he was laying like a sodding idiot.
He rolled on his side, chin propped up on his hand. “So would now be a bad time to tell you I sleep starkers?”
"You haven't seen THIS naked chick," Ashanti countered. She was going to add that he never would, but considering the circumstances, it seemed like a hollow statement. She WAS stripping and getting into his bed, even if was only to sleep. Definitely only to sleep. At his antics, she suppressed a smile. Actually, a bit of a laugh escaped her, though it didn't come easily. It was like she was caught off guard by finding him somewhat funny. An ass, but funny. Ish. Ugh. "Shut the fuck up Steele, before I change my mind." Now in his bed, she was mildly amused at how it seemed like an adventure. Sleeping with the enemy, but with actual sleeping.
"Trust me, if you don't want me to touch you, you can just compound that for my opinion on the fucking matter." Though even as she said it, she smiled and then rolled her eyes. "Don't fucking pretend that you wouldn't touch me if I let you. Let's not be ridiculous." Of course, he said he didn't want HER touching HIM. Not an issue, she thought. Why should she touch him? Even though now that he said it she had the unimaginable urge to run her fingers through his hair. She wouldn't.
He made a crack about being naked and she mirrored his body language, propping herself on her own side. "It would if you want to keep your genitals in their current configuration," she said, though a smile played at the corners of her mouth.
Damn him.
Wes winked at her over the top of the pillow fort he was beginning to construct between them. The joys of a ton of fucking money and a big ass bed. “Well then you just keep them covers down and you’ll never have to know.” He wasn’t, of course, naked. Wes was a boxer-briefs man, preferring the comfort and support -- especially in his sleep. He didn’t need shit getting out of order down there. Wes was a pretty heavy sleeper, though he could never sleep for more than a few hours at a time. It was short, but effective sleep, much like how he was the rest of his life. If Wes was a better guy, he would probably warn Ashanti that he had a habit of getting handsy in his sleep. Nothing lewd, just kind of a cuddler. Wes usually woke up with his arms encircling a body pillow -- which he’d carefully thrown into his wardrobe as Ashanti turned away from him earlier.
“I’m not to preoccupied with their configuration,” he said with a shrug. “I like all positions - vertical, horizontal. As long as they stay intact and unharmed, I don’t care what you fucking do with ‘em.” He gave her a knowing smile and let his eyes wander down to her covered form. “But don’t you get any ideas. Bed. Breakfast. That’s all you get from me without paying a price, you hear that?”
The strangest part of all this (okay, not the strangest. That clearly went to the whole magical travel mishap) was that Ashanti didn't really like to cuddle. Other than the one sleepover with Angus (which she had not repeated since then. Once was enough to freak her a bit), she hadn't ever really cuddled much or just slept with a man. It somehow seemed more intimate to her than sex. Which, well, she couldn't really explain why she had agreed to do it now. She just knew it seemed appealing, and so she did. "Covers will remain firmly down. Unless you plan on making a blanket fort. And in which case, I'm sorry, I might just have to see you. But I won't enjoy it." She turned back on her back, trying to hide her smile, though her eye roll was just for show. Even if he couldn't really see it.
She turned her head towards him again, her eyelids nearly closed as she assessed how serious he was. "I somehow doubt that. But, be that as it may..." She started to add that she was already paying. That she would likely be paying for a while in his smugness. She opened her mouth to say something, and closed it again just as quickly. Instead she turned her back to him, even as she scooted closer, her back pressed against the pillows so that she could feel his warmth and solid frame. "Fine with me," she added, closing her eyes. If she didn't go to sleep now, she'd push the pillows away and kiss him and that would end even more horribly for her.
For a second Wes really thought she would give in to him. Granted, he wasn’t trying too hard. That was more because he didn’t want her to stalk off and hurt herself trying to get to work. That was his fucking story, and he was sticking to it. Besides, he had some sympathy for Ashanti. Clearly she was so fucking bonkers about him that she felt the need to come up with some elaborate scheme to get into his bed. The least he could do is be nice to the poor girl.
But as she scooted back toward him, Wes let loose a big grin. She couldn’t see it, of course, but it was like his whole body was grinning. “Better be fine,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to kick you out of my bed.” After a few moments of silence, Wes poked his finger through the pillow, jabbing lightly at her back. “Can you feel that, princess?”
"I'm sure you wouldn't," Ashanti said, smile wide. She was glad that her back was turned so he couldn't see that she was actually enjoying herself a bit. She was having a hard time admitting it to herself, if she were perfectly honest. "How often do you have someone who insults you in your bed? I have to think most the broom bunnies spend most their time stroking your...ego." She wasn't able to keep a laugh from her voice, much as she tried.
At the poke in her back, she sighed. "Of course I can. That better be your fucking finger, Steele." She knew it was. Even HE wasn't that small and boney. Or at least she hoped so, otherwise her fantasies were all wasted. Well, even more than they already were.
Wes snickered a bit and retracted his finger. “They stroke a lot more than my ego,” he said. “Most people are not rude enough to show up unannounced on my day off and tease me mercilessly. Or at least if they do, there’s usually a fucking payoff.” He pushed his pillows around a bit, putting his knee in between himself and the pillows --- just in case. This was kind of nice, even if Ashanti was still being a cold slag about things. At least he couldn’t see her shooting daggers with her eyes, so that was something.
With a stretch and a yawn, he glomped her over the head with an extra pillow. “Go to sleep, you,” he said. “Some of us like to sleep in on our days off.” To emphasize the point, he flicked his wand slightly, drawing the shades down over his windows and plummeting the room into pitch black.
"I'm sure they stroke all kinds of things. Some of us see the benefits of not making things so very easy for you." Ashanti moved a bit, though it was only to move a bit closer to his warmth. Because it was cold, naturally. And he smelled nice. But mostly because it was cold. "And I AM sorry about showing up randomly, trust me, it wasn't by fucking choice." Though now that he eyes were closed and she was relaxing a bit, she wasn't sorry she was there. Her fingers curled around the soft material of the pillow at her head, and she exhaled softly. She laughed with the pillow glomp and grabbed one of the pillows between them to hit him back. She was smiling, as she turned back around, her body unmistakably pressed against him through the pillow fort. To be honest, she wouldn't have minded being rid of them, even if she wasn't a cuddler. Absolutely not a cuddler.
"Wesley..." she started after a moment, then shook her head, deciding against saying what she was originally planning to (which was to thank him for being his own version of nice, but given it was just barely to one side of civil, even if it was kind of endearing, she shouldn't lower herself to that), and instead finished by saying, "Go to fucking sleep," quietly.
And before she knew it, she was out, more relaxed than she had any right to be.