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Freeform RPGing Amongst Friends

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Somewhere in between... [Jul. 4th, 2004|07:53 am]
Freeform RPGing Amongst Friends
[mood |amusedamused]
[music |SS soundtrack]

Characters: Samantha Fawcett and Peter Stebbins (Dawn and Xan)
Fandom: Harry Potter!
Setting: Summer after GoF, Peter's flat (ok so it's his mum's...)
Rating: R for readings of a very naughty book (also there's some language, snogging, and generally adult humor)
Summary: Sam visits Peter for the first time outside of school. Two bored sixteen year olds alone in a house? Yeah, they entertain themselves a bit...


Sam ducked under the mantle, stepping out into Peter's living room. His mum's flat in London was much nicer than her house. She was glad they'd decided to meet at his house instead of hers. She would have been rather embarrassed to have him at her house. Rubbish, she thought, frowning slightly. "Peter?"

"Hi Sam," Peter said as he leaned out of his room, attempting for some reason to be suave, which he always knew was a bad idea. Two seconds later he'd leaned too far and fell out into the hallway. He got up quickly, as though nothing had happened, and dusted off the knees of his jeans. "Whadya think? Mum's not big in the way of frivolous decorating." He gave her a crooked grin as he walked into the living room itself.

Sam tossed her head back and laughed. She brushed the soot off her bare shoulders and shrugged. "It's nice," she said nonchalantly, clasping her hands behind her back and looking around the room. "Better than my house anyway. At least my brother's gone now. He's such a pig."

"Yeah, my brother's been out of the house since third year. But he was all right," Peter shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "So, um..did you want to sit down?" He gestured to the couch, which he was standing next to.

Sam plopped down on the couch, stretching out on it. It didn't creak like her's did. She looked around, gnawing on her bottom lip in an over exaggerated manner. "So.." she started, picking at a string hanging out from underneath her tank top. "Did you see that Gwenog Jones made Captain of the Year? I told you that she would!"

"Oh yeah! It was in the sports and games section of the Prophet. I didn't doubt you for a minute," Peter said and sat in the rocking chair next to the couch. He didn't really feel much like talking about Quidditch at the moment. Quidditch just made him think of Cedric. "How's your summer been so far? Do anything interesting yet?"

"No, just chores," Sam said, looking over at Peter. Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head. She didn't dare bring up Cedric. It was one thing to push his buttons about everything else, but she certainly wasn't about to broach that subject. "What about you?"

"Lots of sleep. Lots of reading comics. Lots of helping Mum around the house. Boring stuff mostly," Peter shrugged again and reached up to drape both arms over the back of the chair so his elbows were sticking out. "Did you actually want to do something? I've got exploding snap and wizard's chess. But I haven't a clue as to how to play chess."

"I don't want to use my brain for the next two months," Sam said with a groan. She rested one of her legs on the sofa, resting her head back against the arm of the couch. She brushed several strands of hair out of her face as she settled back onto it. "I guess exploding snap."

"All right, give me a minute to find the cards." Peter got up and headed to his room again. "Oh yeah, Mum'd kill me if I didn't offer you somthing to drink. Like water. I'm not allowed to use the stove though, so no tea," he said before disappearing into his bedroom. He started rummaging through the bottom drawer in his dresser.

"Not allowed to use the stove? What kind of rubbish is that?" Sam muttered, shoving off the couch in one swift movement. She found her way into the kitchen. "What's this rubbish about not being able to use the stove?" she called. "I know how to make tea. Besides, you won't get in trouble if I use it. Water is for nancy boys!"

"I melted two charmed tea pots so Mum won't let me. You can use it, yeah," he called back to her as he dug through the junk in the drawer. Magazines, comics, some old letters, a broken quill, oooh a few Knuts, and some playing cards. Only they weren't for exploding snap. "Oi, Sam. I think Eric took the Exploding Snap cards with him. All I've got are some with naked witches on them," he called to her again. He grinned cheekily down at the shapely and oh-so-starkers lady (who winked at him and flipped her hair) that was on the top of the deck.

"Bollocks. Well, we'll just have to keep ourselves entertained otherwise." She smirked mischeviously and opened another cupboard, still looking for a tea pot. She slammed it shut, turning around to check the other side of the kitchen. "Where does your mum keep the tea pot? I must be daft. I can't seem to find it, Peter."

Peter dropped the cards back in the drawer and waved good-bye as he closed it. He made his way into the kitchen and looked around like he'd never really seen the room before. "Um..good question. Maybe on the icebox?" He looked up and, sure enough, there it was. He reached up and got it down for her. "Mum won't be home till five, lots of time to kill entertaining ourselves."

"What time is it now?" She said, leaning back against the counter. Taking the pot from him, she set it down on the counter with an exaggerated sigh. "And where are the matches? I can't do magic to start this thing."

Peter checked his watch. "It's a little after two," he said and smirked at the match comment. "The stove lights itself, you just turn the knob for which burner you want." He gestured to the stove.

Sam smirked, pursing her lips together. "Oh, simple as that, is it?" She turned around, hesitatingly putting her hand on one of the knobs. "Like this, then?" She turned the dial to H for Hot. After several tiny clicks, a wide jet of flames burst out of the stove. She jumped back slightly. "Merlin, that's a lot of fire."

"Ha! No," Peter said and reached over to turn it down to a lower setting. "The H is for High, L's for low. Um...you going to put water in the pot first? Seriously Mum'll kill me if another teapot's ruined." He looked at her expectantly and smiled a bit.

"You know you're absolutely dashing when you act like a scared rabbit, don't you? Is that why you always play that card?" Sam said as casually as if she was talking about Quidditch. She twisted the handle on the faucet and filled the pot before setting it down on the fire. "Cups? Tea?"

"Yeah?" Peter asked with a grin. "Yeah I guess. And uh..tea's in here-" he pulled the tea out of the cupboard behind him and put it on the counter "-and cups are in the cupboard next to the sink." He grinned at her a bit more. "I think I like being dashing. Girls like dashing wizards, yeah?"

"Nah, us girls like it when blokes are drab and tasteless." Sam smirked, opening the cupboard he'd directed her to. She pulled down two cups, setting them on the counter. "Dashing wizards are only in trashy romance novels, Peter. You should know that. Your mum's got a drawer of them, I bet."

"That's good then, cause I'm really drab and tasteless despite appearances," Peter said with a smirk. He nodded at her. "Yeah, she's got two bookcases full, more like."

"I think we've just found a way to keep ourselves entertained then. Go on, get a couple of the books," she said, shooing him out of the kitchen. The kettle started to wail. She moved the pot onto one of the burners that wasn't lit.

Peter chuckled as he headed off to his mum's room to get a few books. He came back with three random titles he just plucked from the shelf. "These good?" he asked and held them up for Sam to see.

Sam poured hot water over the tea bags she'd set in the cups, tilting her head to check the titles. "Oh, I've not read any of these," she said, not paying attention to how much water she was pouring. "I can't believe witches go for this sort of thing. I'll bet that model uses an enorgement charm on his pecks."

Hot water spilled onto the counter and down Sam's leg. She let out a yelp, dropping the pot onto the wooden cutting board with a loud clank. "Shite!" She leant over and clutched her leg.

"Oh shit! Sam, 're you all right?" Peter tossed the books at the counter, not really caring where they landed, and grabbed the dishtowel from next to the sink. He handed it to her. "Damn. I wish we could do magic on holiday. I know a really nice drying spell," he muttered, feeling ineffectual as he stared at her soaked jeans and the wet floor.

"No," Sam muttered, feeling completely stupid. When she over-did things, she got careless. When she got careless, she ended up doing stupid things. Like spilling hot water down her leg, running into corners in the school corridors, and dumping an entire bookshelf on her head. "I'm fine, but.. I think I'm going to need a towel to clean this up. At least the pot didn't melt."

Peter laughed lightly at that. "Yeah, at least," he said and retrieved three more dishtowels from a drawer. He squatted down and started mopping up the water. "You didn't get burnt did you?" he asked and looked up at her, brows furrowed.

"Give that to me. I'm the git who spilt it," Sam mumbled, snatching the towel from him rather hastily. Haphazardly, she began to wipe up the water. She wasn't about to tell him her leg was stinging quite badly. "I'm fine."

Peter just looked at her calmly. "D'you want some ice?"

"For what? Iced tea?" She looked at him as through he should be locked away in St. Mungo's.

"For your leg," he offered with a shrug and stood up. He leaned against the counter and smirked at her. "I could lend you some dry jeans if you wanted. Unless you'd like to walk around in soggy trousers."

"Yeah, that'd be brilliant. I need to hang these up to dry out," Sam said, standing up and dropping the towel on the floor. She used her foot to finish wiping up the water. "But Mum'd have my head if she knew I was going to wear some bloke's pants. Then again, at least you're not in mine." A smirk tugged the corners of her lips.

Peter grinned. "Lucky for your mum I don't like soggy trousers either," he said before heading back into his room to fetch a pair of jeans for her. He came back and handed them to her. "You can change in my room if you want, I'll finish cleaning this up."

Sam took them gratefully, smiling at him. "Thanks, Nancy Boy," she said as she ruffled his hair. She took off down the hall as Peter took the cups into the living room.

Once inside, she tossed the jeans onto the bed and began to rummage around his room. Wasps posters on the wall, comic books on the floor. Boring stuff really. "Predictable Peter." She changed into Peter's jeans quickly, holding them up as they were slightly too-big on her.

She walked over and pulled open one of his drawers, snickering under her breath. She sifted through the drawer and pulled out a pair of red briefs. "Peter, Peter, Peter. Not as portendable as I thought," she giggled. As she dropped the undergarment back into the drawer, she caught sight of words, a magazine. She pulled a couple issues of PlayWizard out, barely keeping herself from bursting into uncontrollable laughter. Grimacing and hoping she wouldn't get caught by him, she shoved the magazines back into the drawer, but they were stuck. Ducking her head, she looked into the back of the drawer to see what was in the way. There was a curious cardboard box.

Trojan. Ribbed for her pleasure. Sam read the side of the box, her mouth hanging open as she realised these must be some Muggle method of contraceptive. Her face turned red before she let out a loud laugh before racing into the front room holding the box out in front of her. "Nancy Boy Peter's hoping for shagging, isn't he?"

"Huh?" Peter looked up from watching the people on the front of one of the trashy novels snogging like there was no tomorrow. Oh..he blushed a bit, grinning in spite of himself. "Not really. Eric's idea of a joke. He sent them to me for my birthday. Haha, bet your mum'd go mad if she knew you'd had your hands all over my underwear."

She hadn't thought of that and now he knew she'd been trifling through his things. Sam blushed, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. "Probably," she said, recovering quickly. "But nothing ever stops me from doing anything. Even if it means I have to touch your undies, you dirty boy."

Peter gave her a look. "So why'd you want me to get these books? To prove that I'm a dirty boy? Cause that's easy."

"You're going to read the dirtiest parts you can find to me," Sam said, hopping onto the couch and looking at him with her best simpering smile. She batted her eyelashes. "Oh, please, Peter. Pleaaaase?"

"Uh," Peter stammered a few syllables and cleared his throat, eyeing her with a very 'i feel trapped' expression. "Why can't you read them by yourself? Isn't that what books are for?" He shifted a bit next to her on the couch and wished he'd worn a baggier shirt.

"I already told you I don't want to use my brain. You can use yours," she said, pouting slightly. She eased away from him, crumpling her forehead. "You're no fun, Peter Stebbins."

"All right, no I'll do it Sam Fawcett. But only because you asked me to," he flipped open to a chapter somewhere in the middle. No that was boring..horseback riding? He skipped to the end of the chapter. "All right how about this?" Peter cleared his throat and read out in a stilted monotone, pausing after almost every word. "'Yes', she sighed into his neck as his hands roamed over supple frame. Her own hands were made to run down his muscled torso until they came to rest on his manhood. 'Oh yes, my darling,' she whimpered as his lips caught hers once more in a passionate kiss." He stopped and looked at Sam, trying not to laugh. "And you birds get off on this rubbish?"

Sam looked impatient and snatched the book from him. "You're reading it all wrong," she whined dramatically. "You have to do it like this: "'Yes," she sighed into his neck as his hands roamed over her supple frame." Sam moaned out every word, practically purring. ""Her own hands were made to run down his muscled' - " she groaned suggestively " - 'torso until they came to rest on his - uhh - manhood. 'Ooooh, yeees, my daaarling!" By the time she came to the end of that, she was breathing raggedly, every word punctuated with evocative inflection. Raising an eyebrow, she looked over at Peter with a half smirk.

Peter was gawking at her with his mouth hanging open. For some odd reason his mouth felt very dry and he tried to swallow, but it didn't help much.

Sam pursed her lips together, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Now do you see why we like this 'rubbish' so much?"

"Well yeah," Peter admitted, his voice cracking as he spoke. He swallowed again to wet his throat. "Uh..when you read it like that. Yeah." He nodded and slipped his arm around her waist, a smirk on his lips. "You going to read some more?"

"Do you want me to read some more?" Sam asked, feeling a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. To counteract the nervousness, she flipped the page.

"No not really," Peter answered earnestly. He shrugged and smiled. "If you want to. I'm a good listener."

Sam cleared her throat, finding it hard to wipe the smirk off her face. In the same overdramatic manner as before, she started to read the next part. "'His tongue parted her lips, probing deep into her mouth. Their tongues fought for dominance and control, her body melting against his. Her hands stroked his quivering member, sending sparks through her body -'"

Peter pulled her a bit closed and leaned in, kissing her before she could continue with the drivel. He wasn't wholly intent on being a good listener today.

Sam didn't protest, but her eyebrows shot up just the same. Every time Peter kissed her - not when she kissed him - she was always slightly shocked. She let the book slide out of her hands, where it fell off her lap onto the floor, before she slid her hand behind his neck. Today was obviously Peter's day for dominance. She'd let him have it. This time.

Their last kiss had been on the train. Two weeks was a long time to go between proper snoggings, so he was taking advantage of what time they had now. Seize the day and all that, because if they didn't now when could they? He turned more sideways on the couch to face her better and wrapped his other arm around her as well, his lips still pressed to hers all the while.

More comfortable now, Sam wrapped her arms tightly around Peter's neck. She was getting rather impatient with him, even though she wasn't exactly sure why. It had been several months since they started doing these strange make-out sessions. Ever since she'd ditched her date at Yule Ball - what was that bloke's name anyway? - they'd been sneaking away to snog in the Astronomy Tower, under the Quidditch bleachers, in the back corner of the library. One time, right in front of the Headmaster's office!

Peter broke away for a minute, a goofy grin plastered on his face. He kissed the corner of her mouth lightly before kissing her properly again, this time he didn't hesitate to slide his tongue into her mouth. He was still somewhat amused that Sam was his first female guest and most definitely the first girl he'd snogged in his own house, so couldn't keep from smiling while he was kissing her.

There. That was more like it. Sam situated herself on the sofa, her leg cramping slightly under his weight. She pulled it out from under his, with a little groan. And now we'll sit like this for the few hours until his mum comes home. Merlin, he's not going to introduce me to his mum, is he? A slight panic set in as Sam tried not to go rigid against him. Instead, she squeezed her eyes completely shut and tried to focus on the feel of his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth.

That noise she made was completely unfair. Absolutely unfair and most probably for show. Damn. After a few more minutes of intensive French-kissing Peter realised that he should probably be interested in what time it was. Particularly since Mum had no idea that he was having his friend over. Particularly since Mum'd have a fit if she walked into the living room where he was making out with a pretty witch... He held up his arm behind Sam's head and tilted his a bit more to get a decent look at his watch. After four?! Merlin's bollocks! He broke the kiss rather abruptly and stared at his watch. "Oh...half past three. That's not so bad," he said apologetically and started kissing Sam again.

Sam pulled back, her eyes half closed. She licked her lips and looked at Peter curious. "What was that about?"

"Huh? Oh. Don't want you to stay too late. Mum doesn't know you're here," Peter smirked and kissed her quickly. "Not that I want you to leave or anything. We've still got the whole summer ahead of us though."

Sometime in his tone gave her pause. Sam leaned her back against the arm of the sofa, studying Peter's face. "Peter.. what exactly do you think this is?"

"What?" Peter raised an eyebrow at her. "Uh...did you not want to kiss me? You can just say 'no, Peter, I don't want your tongue in my mouth'. It won't hurt my feelings or anything." He smiled at her sincerely.

Sam frowned, but seemed placated by his reaction. For the short time she'd actually known him, he'd always been pretty straightforward. "Merlin, of course I did. Hello, did you see me trying to push you off?" she said before throwing her arms around him once again. So much for his day to dominate. She slid her tongue into his mouth eagerly to show just how much she did want him to kiss her.

Peter was grinning against her mouth again as he kissed her back just as eagerly. Thirty more minutes of this would not be a bad thing at all.