Sylvia felt strange to be inside Fred's bedroom, though it gave her a titillated sense of excitement at the same time, like she was spying into a very private part of his life. She'd always felt that way about bedrooms, where people slept and woke up every morning, where they were at their most vulnerable. Posters and books and knick-knacks on shelves like little motifs to a person's life. Even the way the furniture was laid out was fascinating.
Fred's bedsheets we're a grey linen and there was a colorful handmade quilt folded halfway down. Even though she knew he only made his bed because the chances of her coming over that night were high, Sylvia let herself believe that he was the type of person to make his bed every day. It made her smile.
He stood behind her, one hand on her hip and the other pulling her hair over her shoulder so he could kiss her neck. She took a deep breath but didn't close her eyes, letting them scan the room for other little secrets.
A desk full of scattered papers, a Blur poster and a Gryffindor pennant on one wall facing an array of photographs on the other.
"I like the Blur poster." She said.
Fred kept kissing at her neck, his words slurred against her skin, "Don't be funny now."
"I'm not being funny. I like Blur."
"You just think Damon Albarn is pretty."
She grinned. His hands were fingering around her belt loops, "Maybe. Are you going to ask me to name at least three of their songs now?"
He hummed into her neck, leaving a tickling vibration that sent shivers all over her body, "I know better than to question you on that. But it doesn't make me any less jealous of the thirty year old pretty boy on my wall."
Sylvie grinned at the poster. She'd had a crush on nearly every member of Blur since she was thirteen and spent the majority of her teen years listening to their records back-to-back and planning her wedding with Damon or Graham and sometimes Alex, depending on whether she felt like the pretty one or the shy one or the tall one. They were all looking very cute and pouty on Fred's wall.
"He's only twenty-eight."
"Oh well that makes me feel loads better." Fred turned her around with his hands on her hips and kissed her, speaking into her mouth, "I bet you're wishing it was him kissing you right now."
Sylvie nodded and kissed him so her tongue pressed against his. She could feel his knee rising between her legs and she sighed through her nose. He was walking her back into his bed now. She sat back, spreading her thighs so he could stand between them and move her further back on to the mattress with his hands under her knees.
"If Damon Albarn walked through that door, you'd ditch me in a heartbeat, wouldn't you?" He crawled over her and she felt a surge of thrilling heat rise in her chest.
"I might hesitate." She grinned up at him and slid her hands under his shirt. She liked it when he wore t-shirts because she could see his arms. He seemed to remember that as he had changed into one after work. Even though there was snow on the ground outside.
It was cold outside, and the radiator by the window clanged with effort to produce any heat, but Sylvia felt like she could start sweating bullets any minute. She pulled the shirt over Fred's head and ruffled a hand through his hair. He snorted at her and reached up to push it back, but she stopped him, grabbing his hand and holding it by her shoulder.
"I like your hair like this."
"Yeah because you can't see my face."
"You look like Damon Albarn now."
He let go of her hand only to push her hair all over to one side, giving her a heavy side fringe.
"And now you look like Justine Frischmann, it's perfect."
Sylvia stuck out her bottom lip to blow up at the hair in her eyes, flicking it back into place with her finger. Her mouth felt tacky but she swallowed. Fred's hand was brushing against the bare skin between the collar of her shirt and gently unbuttoning down until it lay open at her sides. His finger hooked around the waist of her trousers and slid back and forth over her hipbone.
"Sylvie?" He whispered.
"What?" She whispered back.
The tip of his tongue was pressing against the back of his front teeth and his smile was all lopsided. He leaned down a little so she had to look between his eyes.
"I really like you."
"Well good. This would be kind of awkward if you didn't."
"Sylvie." He whispered again.
She raised her eyebrows at him, "What?"
"Sylvie." He pecked her lips.
She snorted a little laugh at him, but she let him go on.
"Sylvie, Sylvie, Sylvie." He kissed her each time before she could answer, holding her body close and kissing down her neck, repeating her name into her skin.
Fred couldn't stop saying her name. It felt like honey on his tongue and he liked the little buzz the v sound left on his lips. He said it one last time before he kissed her again, undoing the button of her trousers as she did the same to his.
When their clothes were all on the floor, Sylvie pushed at Fred's chest so he was laying face up. She swung a knee over his legs to straddle him, placing a slow kiss on his lips. Her hands found his on her waist and she guided them upwards to unclasp her bra, which he tossed to the side of the room. He reached up and slid her glasses off her face and put them on himself, smiling proudly up at her.
"Now I can't see." She whispered through a giggle.
"Are you really going to have sex with your glasses on?"
She snickered and dragged her teeth over her bottom lip.
"I could be like," She let out a snort of laughter, "like a sexy librarian."
Fred raised his his eyebrows with a sly grin and Sylvia pushed at his chest, bursting into a fit of cackling laughter.
"What? It's not a bad idea."
She sniffed and ran a finger across his forehead, brushing the little wispy strands out of his eyes, "You look better in them anyways."
"Then I'll be the librarian."
Her fingers left little tingles across his skin and she plucked the glasses off his nose, setting them on the bedside table.
He reached up to brush the hair out of her eyes, tucking it back behind her ear, and he let his hand rest on her cheek, thumb tracing back and forth over her lips. His heart nearly stopped when she parted her lips and dipped her head down the slightest bit, taking his thumb in her mouth sucking on the finger. He was having deja vu.
Fred's jaw went slack and his voice came out in an awed whisper when he spoke.
"Holy shit."
She scoffed out a little laugh and he dragged his thumb over her bottom lip. She reached up to hold the sides of his face and grinned, leaning in to give him a few pecks.
She really was pulling all sorts of tricks out her sleeve that night, because she began to kiss his neck, right below the ear like he used to on her. And her hands. They were pulling his boxers down.
"HO-ly shit!"
His arms locked at his sides, straightening himself up as she laughed into his neck, pulling back to raise her eyebrows at him.
"Is this alright?"
Despite her consideration, her hands didn't stop moving, fingers cold as ever as they moved steadily over his skin.
"Mhm." He nodded quickly, the little noise that escaped his throat a mere squeak.
She grinned and leaned back in to bite softly at his neck, kissing over each mark she left and listening to the hitches in his breath and the quiet but tight moans he let out. But he was growing impatient, reaching up to hold the sides of her face and kiss her. Leaning her back against the mattress, he climbed on top of her and kissed her jaw, her neck, and further, over her breastbone and down the soft outline of her stomach.
He held her thighs and kissed them as well, like he had to acknowledge every part of her body, and he kissed her over her the thin spandex of her underwear. She caught her breath and lifted her hips for him as he pulled them off and kissed her again. Her hands were in his hair and the curve of her back lifted from the mattress and all Fred could think about was how badly he wanted to feel her again.
"Okay, okay," she whispered like she was hurrying him, guiding his face back to hers and reaching down to push down his boxers, "Do you have a condom?"
She told him he could choke her if he wanted to, or grab her waist and thighs even if it was hard enough to bruise.
"Just tell me if you're not into it. It's not some weird masochistic childhood trauma thing, so you don't have to feel bad, okay?"
He nodded and grabbed onto her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers beside her head. She grinned against his lips and moved his hand to her throat.
"Here," she tilted her chin back a little, "try it."
Fred held her throat and she closed her eyes for a moment, her chest rising and falling over her rib cage. He could feel her pulse under his thumb.
"Good," she sighed and cleared her throat, "Just don't kill me."
He pressed his fingers in further, holding her neck like he owned it and she nodded. Her hips lifted into his and he could feel the vibration of her moans against his palm. She whispered to him, "I want to feel you inside me again" and he complied. Her shoulders were rocking back and forth against the mattress beneath them and she whispered "fuck, fuck, fuck," each time he thrust into her.
They didn't stop when Fred shuddered into her the first time. He held his mouth just above hers and let out a tight breath. She was smiling and her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were biting into him like he was her next meal.
"Sit back up." She said.
He swallowed, catching his breath, but did as he was told, lifting off of her and sitting with his back against the headboard. She straddled him and kissed him with tongue, holding the sides of his neck in her hands. Her hips were moving against his, grinding back and forth over him until he was hard again and he sighed into her mouth.
"You know you're the only one who can make me come," She said it so quietly, Fred could only decipher the words from the brush of her lips against his as she spoke.
He found himself letting out a quick and tight breath of a laugh, "Really?"
But she nodded, and moved so he was inside her. He made a noise like a shudder, like he had been submerged in freezing water after getting sunburned all over.
"No one else can. You're the only one."
If he had been standing, he'd have gone weak at the knees.
"Say that again," He said, closing his eyes.
"You're the only one."
Sylvie's hands were cool on the sides of his neck and he felt his fingers dig into the flesh of her hips. She whined from the back of her throat and Fred nearly lost it.
"Fucking Christ, Sylvie." He laughed, but his head fell back and he swallowed hard. She moved in to whisper into his ear.
"Are you gonna make me come, Freddie?"
Fred swallowed as he caught his breath, eyes blinking at the ceiling.
"Do you have to go back to New York?"
She smiled and rolled over, propping herself up to kiss him, smiling against his lips and pecking him in-between words.
"Oh, so I'm that good, am I?"
"Should I even ask where you learned to do all that?"
He turned to look at her, watching as she smiled at him, her cheeks pink and glowing, and he reached out to trace his fingertips along her freckles.
"It's almost been a year." He said.
Sylvie raised her brows in mild surprise, "I didn't realize it's been that long."
"I did."
"Yeah?" She sniffed and rubbed her shoulder into the pillow.
Fred nodded, that warm, aching, melancholy feeling spreading over his chest. His throat tightened like he was going to cry.
"Why didn't we see each other over the summer?"
Her eyes picked up every glint of light in the room, all wet and shiny like silver.
"I didn't think you'd want to."
He shook his head, "Why would you think that?"
"Probably because you left school without saying anything to me."
His heart hurt. She didn't have to say it, that he had expected her to come back to him anyway. Like she always did.
"This sounds stupid but," He swallowed and looked at the ceiling, "is all that stuff you said true?"
The cool breath of her laugh gave him goosebumps on his neck.
"What? That you're the only guy who's ever made me come?"
He couldn't respond for a moment, feeling his face grow hot and an embarrassed grin pull at his lips. She pushed at his shoulder and sat up a little to lean onto his chest. Her teeth were like little mirrors in the dark when she laughed.
"Oh is it not as sexy now? The post-shag clarity hitting you?"
Fred ran a hand over his face but laughed with her, letting her tease him. She rested her cheek on his collar bone.
"To answer your question, yes it's true. Hard to admit, but true."
"Hard to admit?"
She nodded, "I'm not exactly proud of how I was in school, you know."
He wanted to see her face, look at her head-on, but he just lay still.
"Honestly I'm a little mortified that I put up with all your shit." She reached up, but only to scratch at the side of her nose, "And not even put up with it — I practically thanked you for it. Crawled back every time like I was lucky to even get the chance."
Fred hadn't realized that her hand was in his until he felt her fingers wiggle between his. He gave them a gentle squeeze.
"I'm sorry. For all of it."
Her voice went soft and kind, like she was reassuring a child.
"I know you are. I just hope you're not embarrassed of me now."
Fred sat up and Sylvie let her head fall into a pillow, her eyebrows raising a little as he leaned over her with furrowed brows.
"I'm not embarrassed of you, Sylvia."
She blinked up at him, "Okay."
He felt his throat catch like he might cry and his voice shook a little when he spoke.
"I was a fucking idiot in school, but I really did like you. And I do now, too."
She just looked up at him, her eyes moving over his face like she was analyzing his earnestness, and when she decided he was being honest, she let out a deep breath.
"I like you too, Fred."
Sylvia rolled over when Fred's alarm clock went off, pulling the quilt up over her freckled shoulder. A piece of pitch black hair was stuck to her cheek, and Fred reached over to pull it back. Her mouth sat slightly agape with deep sleepy breaths like a baby.
He had only just gotten dressed and started making tea when he heard her moving around in his room. He went over to stand in the doorway.
"Can I see you again tonight?"
She sighed as she buttoned up her pants.
"I can't. I have to go have dinner at my house."
He was silent for a second, watching her dress in yesterday's clothes, pulling a shirt over her head and untucking her hair from under the collar.
"Is Quentin going to be there?"
Her mind was preoccupied.
"Uh..." She lifted the edge of the sheets that had shifted off the side of the bed, dipping down to look for her right sock, "Yeah. Why?"
He cleared his throat and leaned against the doorframe.
"Are you going to be okay?"
It was almost a surprise to Fred to see her so unfazed, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on her found sock and shoes, blowing out a tired sigh.
"Well, considering he hasn't touched me, much less spoken to me, since I nearly crucio-ed him last year -- thanks for stopping me, by the way. I don't think I ever said anything at the time, did I?" She stood to grab her coat from the back of Fred's desk chair, "Anyways, he's terrified of me now, so I don't think he's going to try anything for a good while."
He nodded silently, but it wasn't convincing enough. Not much could convince him that the same kid who broke her nose -- her own brother -- was going to stop knocking her around just because she nearly made a stupid mistake a year ago. Though he did remember how deathly white his face had gone when she pulled her wand on him.
She ran a hand through her hair and shook it out, trying her best to detangle the bedhead, noticing Fred's grave expression. A small smile perked the corners of her mouth up and she stepped up to him, leaning against the other side of the doorframe.
"I'm going to stay there overnight, and then there's Christmas, but," She held up the keys to her Leaky Cauldron room, "other than that, I don't have anything to do while I'm here, so..."
"So you'll come over tomorrow?"
She cocked an eyebrow and held her hands behind her back.
"Are you saying you want me to come over tomorrow?"
He scoffed, but grinned down at her.
"I'm saying I want you to come over tomorrow, yes."
"Well," She kicked off the doorframe, looking into the hallway as she cleared her throat. When her eyes flicked back to his, there was a glint, "in that case, I'll accept your offer."
She started to walk away when Fred reached out to snatch her hand, "Hey."
He pulled her back and into his arms, letting his hands hold her hips. Sylvia's fingers rested on his chest, curling slightly into the lapels of his suit. She grinned.
"What?"
"You wouldn't dump me for Damon Albarn, would you?" Fred grinned back at her.
"I thought you could only dump someone you were dating."
Her eyes lit up when she said it and her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she tried not to laugh at her own jab. Fred only leaned in and kissed her. When they pulled apart and he dropped his hands from her sides, he swore he saw Sylvia wink at the Blur poster before stepping into the hallway.