business, huh?
PRESENT DAY – SEPTEMBER
Slytherin parties were, in the finest sense, brutal.
A lot of things can happen in that window of a few hours, when the lamps are doused and the classic flashes of green and black lights shatter against your skin. When the music may very well be loud enough for the outsiders to hear, even through the multiple layers of silencing spells. When the room drips with sweat and saliva and other things that would make you hurl, combined with the thick, sweet aroma of Puff drugs drenching the room. Some places you can’t tell where bodies begin or end, and others you can’t feel your head through the sluggish combination of magic and drugs and humidity.
I fucking love Year Seven.
“Neve, babe, where we goin’?” Brennecke tossed her frizzed-up head up toward the ceiling in exasperation as I pulled her through the crowd.
“I’m just trying to get to the other side of the room so I don’t accidentally get dry humped by a stoned Hufflepuff.” I yanked on her wrist harder to avoid a huddle of Gryfindors taking shots. Why were they even here?
“Rude,” Brennecke mumbled behind me. “I’m a Hufflepuff, you bitch.”
I rolled my eyes then spotted some fifth years at the end of one of the emerald leather couches. “Move,” I spat at them. They stumbled away, leaving the entirety of the couch to lounge on. I slumped onto it with an exhale, Brennecke tumbling next to me with an aggressively smoking and heavily magic-laced joint in her hand.
“How the hell did you already get another Badger?” I raised an eyebrow at her. The bass seemed to be amplified in this corner of the room, so the pink and orange fumes spilling from her mouth and nose were wavering as they drifted toward the ceiling.
“Love, I’m a Puff, we’ve been over this. I get it from the source. I am the source.” Brennecke tipped her head back without even looking me in the eye and let the smoke pool from her mouth.
I huffed (ironically), crossing my arms over my low-cut top and stared into the fray. I didn’t—and will never care—that Brennecke was a pure Hufflepuff stereotype and one of the “experimentalists”, if you will, but sometimes it made her a dipshit during parties.
“Okay, I get it, you’re doing your deep thought thing again—” Brennecke broke from her haze to gesture to me— “so I’m going to go see if I can stick my tongue down some girls’ throats okay? I would encourage you to do the same, unfortunately you are—” she hacked out a cough, followed by a waft of sickly Badger smoke “—A hetero. Have fun, girlypop. I’m gonna go get some of that…”
I groaned as Brennecke sauntered into the fray, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes. This was supposed to be a fun Friday night, but my wingwoman had just dissolved into a mass of horny Hogwarts year sevens. Eventually my most recent drink had been a little too much and my bladder guided me down the hall to the restrooms. I fled into the stalls, did what I had to do, washed my hands, only to find some sixth years making out against the towels.
“Are you fucking kidding me,” I fumed under my breath and whirled back into the emerald hallway at full speed, only to slam into someone. “Excuse you, you f—”
“Well, look who it is.” I finally looked up and almost died when I saw the boy who spoke to me.
“Dayton,” I ground out, glaring through my eyelashes. “Which Slyth girl did you just finish fucking in the dungeons?”
“Actually, I just got here.” His dark hair fell in damp strands across his forehead and his pale collarbone glittered where it peeked through the open collar of his dark emerald button up. I clenched my teeth.
“Yeah, I just said that. You were blowing some girl’s back out in the—”
“Good God, Neva, I told you, I just got here.” He laughed breathlessly. I tensed as he said, “I had, uh, business to attend to.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Business, huh?”
Dayton rolled his eyes. “You Ravenclaws are such prying eyes, you know that?”
I just kept glaring at him.
“What do you want from me, Neva?” His voice was lower, husky even, chin tilted downward, eyes glazing over me.
My breath quickened with my heart, so instead I grabbed the collar of his shirt and leaned close. “I know you’ve been looking for something. I’ve seen you near the Forbidden section. I’ve seen you late at night in the library and in the hallways. I know you know something, and I want it.”
Dayton didn’t back away. “You want it? It’ll cost you.”
I suddenly jerked away. Him of all people? This could not be happening. There was nothing I could give him. I’d already told him that I had been watching him, but I knew too much. There was too much on the line.
Dayton, of all people.
Did he know about it?
But Dayton knew something else, if anything, that I didn’t. And that made me only want it more.
“What do you want for it?” I asked, finally looking him in the eye. Bass hammered through the hallway, bleached with green light.
Dayton smirked. “A kiss.”
I snorted, like actually almost laughed in his face. “A kiss? What is this, year three?”
He cocked his head to the side, still staring at me. My heart refused to stop hammering louder than the music.
“Fine.” I exhaled shakily, holding out a hand. “It’s a deal.”
“Deal,” he responded, shaking my hand, only to use it to thrust me into an alcove in the hallway and crash his lips into mine.
I made a startled noise and opened my lips to him. His hands were on the thin fabric of my minidress, digging into my skin, into my hair. I moaned when his mouth scoured my neck, his fingers slowly pushing up my dress’s hem. Good Lord this boy was taking things fast.
“Dayton,” I said, in anger or horniness, we'll never know, clawing at the opening in his shirt. He cut me off short, using both hands to push my dress over my hips in one quick motion.
I gasped angrily, and fisted his shirt. “If we’re doing this, your shirt is off.” I gritted my teeth. “Now.”
He laughed into my neck, breathless in my ear above the throbbing music. Without hesitation, he pulled the rest of his shirt off, his lean skin accented by the green light dancing through the dark corridor.
I ran my fingers over the grooves of muscle on his stomach. Jesus, I needed to fuck more Chasers. I ripped at the buttons on his pants, and in flashes of moments my underwear was gone, and he was in me.
I exhaled shakily with the first thrust, head tipped back against the stone wall. His mouth was on my neck. The words “Fuck, Neva,” buzzed against my throat.
Dayton pushed into me harder, pleasure bolting up the base of my spine. He was so much, he was everywhere. I didn't know what to do with myself as he filled me with each heavy breath.
Then again I didn't know I would be getting railed by Dayton Portola in a Slytherin hallway this fine Friday night. Regardless, I ignored this fact, the fact that whatever secret would be revealed could mean I would have competition and my careful facade could be destroyed (not that I would ever say that to his face), and instead succumbed to whatever the fuck made Dayton so hauntingly gorgeous in the dim green light with his hands braced against the wall and all over my body, his shoulder and abdomen muscles flexing with effort.
My nails ripped at his bare back as he slammed into me again and again, bliss building until a final thrust sent me over the edge. I fell into euphoria with a yell, more profanities falling onto my skin from Dayton’s mouth.
Our breaths fell into a synchronized beat hidden in our little bubble, humid with body heat as we slowly untangled ourselves. Dayton rested his head against the wall next to my face, watching me silently from the corner of his eye. The music from down the hallway filled the space slowly, as if we were waking from sleep.
I reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him, face slick with sweat in the neon light, to look me in the eyes. I smirked between breaths. “So, are you going to show me what you found?”
Dayton smiled mischievously, shoulders rising and falling. “If you can walk after that, I'll do whatever you want. And then after, I'm doing this again but better, so I can be sure you'll never use those pretty legs again."