InsaneJournal

Who:Michael Corner and Cambina Bulstrode
What: An assignation
Where: Hogsmeade
When: BACKDATED to March 21 1998 (Hogsmeade Weekend)
Warnings: Discussion of sex involving a not-insignificant age difference.
Status: Completed log




This was probably not her greatest idea. But with Gwenog pulling back and dating bloody Fabian Prewett, Bina was not at her best in the 'bright ideas department'. It wasn't illegal, though it might earn her the displeasure of some of her friends and colleagues. At least her work in the office wasn't suffering, though she was trying to distract herself when out of the office. (And might have been spending extra time in the office these past few weeks.) She had a pitcher of butterbeer and two glasses on the table (and a flask in her bag). Just in case one of them needed it later. She had, of course, assessed the tavern and the room for weakness, exits, defences. She was there early, and waited by the window. When she heard the knock on the door, she turned and waited, wand loosely gripped in her hand.

There was no vocal confirmation that he ought to come in, but Michael figured that there was a good chance Bina was being cautious of anyone overhearing, putting two and two together, and making a stink about a Hogwarts student entering an inn bedroom with an older woman who also happened to be an Auror. Probably very wise, all things considered.

Then again, he might have the wrong room, or Bina might not have shown up. Well. Only one way to tell.

He cracked the door and slid in, grinning when he found the blonde looking at him with wand in hand.

“Not a Dark wizard,” he said, shutting the door behind himself and then holding his hands up in surrender. “Promise. Although I’d let you arrest me if you really want to, love.”

That came out sounding a little sleazier than intended, and he shook his head and gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry. That was awful. Hello.”

Bina laughed, the tension in the room easing a little as she flicked her wand, locking and warding the door. Given the sort of dealings that happened at this place, this behavior wouldn't be noticed as unusual, which suited her just fine. And if her presence here was questioned, she could just say she was investigating a lead.

"Hello, Michael," she said, handing him a butterbeer and shrugging off the worn, padded dragonhide jacket she was rarely seen without these days, leaving her in just a tank top that left most of the cascading vines on display to the viewer. Taking a sip of the butterbeer, she grinned at him. "So, how long do we have before your friends start to miss you?"

“Oh, I could swing an hour at least,” Michael said, taking the butterbeer and grinning. “I’ve got a lot of friends. Everybody will just assume I’m off with somebody else.”

He took a sip, then gestured at her arm. “So. Can I take a look?”

She nodded, tugging the shirt upwards and over her head, leaving her in a plain, black, functional bra. Overkill, perhaps, but she was in the mood for distractions, in any way, shape, or form. ANd Michael was adamant that he knew his own mind in the matter. The vine started on the scalp and moved down her neck, over her shoulder and the top of her arm. She turned her head to the side to give him a better view. "Look, touch, go nuts," she said with an encouraging smile, casting a warming charm on the room to take the edge off the chill. (Especially if she were to end up losing more clothes.)

Dark eyes widened a little, but Michael didn't otherwise betray any surprise. He set his mug very deliberately on the table and moved up behind Bina.

"It's beautiful, " he said, soft and genuine, reaching out to trail his fingertips lightly over the line of the tattoo, from the swell of her shoulder and down along her arm.

She had been with many people, both men and women, who had been fascinated by her tattoos, and yet there was something about this situation, about Michael's touch, about her at this moment that made her body still before closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. "Caused a bit of a stir at family functions when I got it.." she said, her voice soft, as though not wanting to break the mood.

"Admit it," Michael murmured, sliding his fingers back up to her nape, "you cause a stir wherever you go, Bina."

"Perhaps. But there can be a bit of fun in that. Getting reactions out of stiff folks. Shocking them." She tilted her head to the side, giving him better access. "Let me know when you're ready to see another."

Michael was a Ravenclaw, not a Gryffindor, but there was no law saying that he couldn't be a bit daring. He leaned forward to lay a quick, warm kiss against the spot where the vine tattoo twisted around the nape of Bina' s neck.

"Go ahead," he murmured, speaking against her skin. "I'm ready when you are."

Bina pressed back against him, turning to kiss him on the cheek. She turned to face him, brushing her lips against his before pulling back. She undid the button of her trousers, pulling them and her knickers down to expose the swallows tattooed on her right hip.

"Well? Did the photo do them justice?"

Swallowing, Michael dropped to his knees to properly study the birds with the attention they deserved. “Not even remotely,” he decided after a minute, glancing up at Bina with a grin that just bordered on ‘cheeky.’ “They’re much more fascinating in person.”

"Well, I'm glad they exceed their reputation." Bina ran a hand through Michael's hair, fingers scratching lightly at the scalp before tugging upwards for him to stand again. Without much in the way of warning, she pressed herself against him, lips capturing his in a kiss. "Two down, two to go. Unless you want to take a break from your artistic study?"

Michael shivered a little, arms sliding around Bina's slim hips. "I could be persuaded to take a break," He admitted, speaking against her lips. "If you want me to."

Bina tangled a hand in his hair, deepening the kiss. This was foolish, she knew, but right now all she wanted was to take the good looking young man in front of her to bed. "I want…" she trailed off, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth. "To shag you till I forget my name. But I did promise you tattoos, and I don't go back on my word."

Reluctantly, she pulled back and sat down on the bed, unlacing her boots before taking them off. Her socks soon followed and soon enough she was holding up her foot for Michael's investigation.

Michael swallowed again, gaze hot as he nodded. "If that's what you want, love, I'm happy to oblige."

He stepped back enough to let Bina move, then stooped again to examine the top of her foot, hand closing gently around her heel to support it for his inspection. "Ticklish?" He asked, Glancing up with a teasing expression.

Bina gave him a threatening, yet playful, look. "Don't even think about it Corner!" she teased, because she was, in point of fact, ticklish. "There's better things you could be doing with your hands, if you want. Like finding the last tattoo."

“Mmm, fine. I’ll save finding out for next time, then,” Michael teased, letting his hands slide up the sides of Bina’s legs as he got back to his feet. “Is this a treasure hunt? Will you tell me hot or cold, at least?”

"Getting warmer," Bina said, scootching backwards on the bed and sucking on her lower lip as she gave him an encouraging look. "But you've still got a ways to go…"

Eyes dark as he watched Bina’s mouth, Michael put his knees on the mattress so that he could follow her, fingers hooking into the waistline of her pants briefly before sliding up further, under her shirt and along her ribcage. “Well, I’m definitely feeling warmer,” he quipped, grinning, “but you’ll have to tell me, love.”

"You, sir, are incorrigible!" Bina squirmed slightly when his fingers slipped against her sides. By the time his fingers were on his ribcage, her breath caught in her throat. "Warmer," she whispered out, her voice raspy with lust. As his fingers grazed the bottom of her breasts, she arched under his touch. "Hot. Very hot."

"And you're gorgeous, " Michael countered, leaning in to kiss the older woman again deep and eager as he cupped one of her breaststroke in a broad palm, the other hand slipping back down to toy with the hem of her shirt. "Can I take this off you?"

Bina chuckled, tangling a hand through his hair as she deepened the kiss. "Well, you'll have to if you want to see the last tattoo," she said, hands running over his sides. "But I may make you take yours off as well."

“Fair’s fair,” Michael agreed even as he was sliding her shirt up; he had to break away from their kiss to pull it over her head, of course, but it was worth it. The room was definitely feeling warm now, and in the spirit of fairness it was really only right that he tug his own shirt off as well. If he was a little overeager about it and got briefly stuck in his own collar, well, he was laughing when he came out again.

She laughed at his antics, the mood in the room lightening and she drew him down for a kiss, smiling against his lips. When they broke apart, she brought his hand to the thorny rose tattoo that marked the skin right under her breasts. Her hands skated down his sides. "You doing okay?"

Michael laughed again, rearing up just enough to smile down at Bina. “I’m doing fabulously, are you kidding?”

Broad, boyish hands slid up her sides, one tracing over the black lines of the tattoo while the other cupped gently around a breast. “You’re just so gorgeous I’m having a bit of a hard time believing this is real. Not to mention remembering how to be coordinated. Sorry.”

Bina tangled a hand in his hair and pulled him down for a kiss, wrapping a leg around Michael's hips as she arched underneath him. "You're nice to look at yourself. Just breathe. This is real and I'm not going anywhere." She left a trail of kisses along his jawline. "We've got all afternoon.."

Michael kissed her back, hard and hungry, pressing against her so that his bare chest brushed against her own. After a few minutes, he slid his mouth down along her jawline and then up to her ear, tongue flicking out carefully. “So,” he said, low and warm, “do you think I should get a tattoo of my own, then?”

"I think you'd look good in one, sure, but I'm not gonna be the one to tell you to get one.." Bina said, pressing against him. Without warning, she flipped them so she was straddling Michael on the beds, rolling her hips against his. Her fingers traced his sides. "Something here perhaps… or perhaps on your chest… or along your arms…" Bina leaned down and tugged on his lower lip with her teeth. "But don't let me sway you. Get one if you want. I'll come with you if you want. Hold your hand…"

Eyes going very, very dark, Michael did a little hip-rolling of his own, enough to lift Bina up an inch or so before he stopped. “For someone who doesn’t want to sway me,” he said dryly- or, well, as dryly as he could under the circumstances- “you sure are making a very strong case.”

"Tattoos are permanent, Michael," she said, pressing herself against him and sucking a spot on his neck. "Whatever you get now, you'll have for decades. If you want to try out how it would look, there are temporary ones.. henna and the like… last for a few weeks." She slid a hand between their bodies, toying with his nipple. "I'm not much of an artist or I'd offer to paint something on you."

“Lots of things are permanent,” Michael replied, biting back a gasp as Bina’s fingers played over sensitive flesh. “And you can accuse me of a lot of things, Cambina Bulstrode, but not knowing what I want? Isn’t one of them.”

"So then, Michael Corner," she asked, sliding down to kiss his nipple. "What is it that you want?"

"You, " Michael replied simply, though Bina' s mouth was making him shiver, his eyes going half-lidded. "Whichever way I can have you. If that's some more kissing, excellent. If it's more than that, that's great too."

Bina leaned down, capturing his lips in a long, slow kiss.

"Well, like I said, I want to shag you till I forget my name so I think we can work that out." Her hands skimmed over his side to slide along the waistband of his trousers. . "Just as long as we have time.."

“We have time,” Michael assured. If his friends missed him, he’d come up with an excuse. They might guess he’d snuck off with a girl, but they’d never in a million years suspect who he’d actually been with. “And I’m good with making your forget your name. As long as you remember mine.”