Kit and Kaboodle
Victoire's blonde ponytail whipped around her as she flew high above, soaring with the quaffle in hand as she passed it to her teammate. Quidditch practice was one of her favorite parts of the week; she left all of her problems on the ground as she enjoyed the caress of the wind against her skin while on her broom.
Though even up here, Salvatore Rookwood crept into her mind. She bit down hard on her bottom lip as she remembered their unexpected meeting last night. She adjusted her position on her broom, suddenly aware of how it rubbed against her centre in a way that was distracting. And the last thing she needed was to think about how much more she'd prefer a different wood between her thighs - preferably Rookwood.
She shook her head as if to clear it as she left those thoughts behind, flying faster to catch the quaffle being thrown to her and hurling it through the post successfully. With that final shot, practice was over and she dove back down to reality.
"Good practice, Twa," Kit Stone called, a smirk on his lips.
"Why are you always here?" Vic demanded, not bothering with pleasantries.
"Maybe I'm here because Gryffindors have the pitch booked for practice now after Ravenclaws," he responded coolly, though if that were the case, he was quite early. "Or maybe I like watching you fly."
Victoire arched a brow. "Sure. Where's your gaggle of fangirls?"
Kit looked a little hurt, though he recovered quickly enough. "I don't care to have a group of girls surrounding me anymore. It's quite bothersome."
A derisive laugh escaped Vic's lips as she brushed past him. "Yes, how troublesome for you, being surrounded by girls who want to cater to your every need."
Kit chased after her, keeping pace as she made her way to the locker room. "It's not like I ask girls to hang around me and do stuff for me. They just do it."
"Sure." Vic didn't really care to be talking to Kit right now and figured it'd be easier to just agree with him until he left her alone.
Why was it bothering him so much that she seemed so unimpressed with him? Gryffindor didn't really have practice, he'd just wanted an excuse to come and watch her practice. He couldn't get her out of his head since the party. It wasn't the fact that she was practically the only girl in Hogwarts who didn't want him. It was just her; who she was: she was cool and sexy and kind, and they'd had fun together at the party. He wanted to know so much more about her and get as close as possible to her. He'd start by telling his fan group to back off - there was only one lady in his sights now, and he'd make sure she knew it.
***
Kit stared at Victoire broodily during breakfast. It's like she hadn't even noticed he fed himself his own breakfast without one of his fans feeding it to him! Didn't she know the effort it cost him bringing the fork all the way to his own mouth for a change? He was exerting so much energy trying to impress Victoire already, and she didn't even care.
Okay, maybe most grown men fed themselves breakfast. He'd have to do something bigger, more extravagant to show Victoire how completely committed he was to impressing her. He strode to her table, seating himself next to her on the bench with his back to the table.
"Hey, babe. Wanna sneak in some extra Quidditch practice later?"
Victoire looked at him hesitantly, as if suspecting some sort of prank. "Is this the part where you make some lame joke about me riding your broomstick or something?"
"No, but I like where your head is at, Twa. You're as dirty minded as your nickname suggests," he winked roguishly, and Vic's cheeks reddened. "I meant to ask if you wanted to join me on the pitch for a bit after Gryffindor's session today."
She looked at him questioningly. "Didn't Gryffindors have practice yesterday?"
"Oh yeah, um, I might've lied about that. I really did just want to watch you play."
Victoire wasn't sure why she believed him, but she did. She also noticed he seemed to have dismissed his army of girls that followed him everywhere. Maybe Kit was actually putting in a crumb of effort to get Vic's attention. While she didn't think she could handle another man vying for her attentions, she couldn't help but savor the way Salvatore Rookwood was glaring at her and Kit from the Slytherin table.
"Please, Vic? Let me play with you," he pleaded, his smirk indicating that his innuendo was intentional.
"What time?" She asked, and he gave her a wide grin of triumph that she couldn't help but mirror. He was like a damn puppy dog wagging his tail in celebration all because she agreed, albeit reluctantly, to meet up with him and play a little two-person Quidditch. Why did so many aspects of Quidditch have to sound so naughty?
True to his word, Kit lingered after Gryffindor practice was over and the pitch was empty except for them.
"Are you ready to take my beating, Twa?" Kit asked playfully, Vic scrunching her nose in distaste.
"Please don't word it like that ever again. And no. Are you ready to chase me, though?"
Kit grinned, stepping closer to her and gently brushing a finger on her cheek. "I've already begun chasing you, Vic. Only now I'll do it on a broom and try to knock you off it."
"Every girl dreams about a guy chasing them around with a bat and ball, trying to assault her with it before she plummets to the ground."
"Romantic, isn't it?" Kit joked, and she breathed a laugh. "I'm not gonna go easy on you just because I fancy you," he warned.
"I wouldn't expect you to," she said, her heart pattering a little as she processed the fact that he just admitted to liking her. Before any more words could be passed between them, she shot into the air and he followed, laughing. He chased her in the air while she scored and dodged his bat, which he used to deflect several of her goals. She laughed her ass off as he celebrated his own deflection by holding his beater's bat as if it were an extension of his dick and making a wanking gesture with it. Vic mimicked the rude gesture as she proceeded to score against him immediately after. After forty-five minutes of playing, they called it a night and started walking towards the locker room.
"I like playing with you, Twa. Imagine how hot it's gonna be playing against each other during real matches," he said excitedly.
"Why would that be hot?" Vic asked, her expression amused.
"Because, babe! It'll be like we're enemies forced to play against one another, and tension and stuff," he explained like that made any sense. "And when Gryffindor wins, you'll be all, 'Kit! You're so hot, I want your whole Kit and Kaboodle,' all flirtatiously, and then -"
"Let me stop that little fantasy right there," Vic said, her amusement lingering. "I'm not impressed by Quidditch wins or any popular boy bullshit."
"What are you impressed by, then?" Kit asked, and the genuine desperation in his eyes made Vic's heart pause for the briefest of moments.
She didn't answer, instead allowing his gaze to bore into her intensely as he wrapped her ponytail around his hand, pulling her by it lightly but with enough force to make her stare right back at him.
"I have a new nickname for you," he said in a low voice, placing his free hand on her waist. She made no move to stop him, her breath hitching.
"What name is that?" She asked, her senses full of him as she caught his scent of musk and vanilla.
"Mine," he growled, closing the distance between them as he claimed a kiss from her lips. His kiss was firm, holding her place while he possessed her mouth, his tongue claiming her as his own.
She put a hand on his chest, meaning to push him back, and perhaps he felt that because he pulled his lips back, his blue eyes sparkling with an uncertainty she didn't think possible for someone as cocky as him. But there it was, vulnerability shining through beneath his arrogant swagger; an invitation for her to reject him and hurt his feelings. And yet she found her hand curling against his chest, gripping his shirt and pulling him back towards her, kissing him right back. He groaned into her mouth, his hands traveling down her back to grip her ass.
This was madness - she was already developing feelings for Link and Salvatore, and wasn't nearly over her crush on Teddy. And now Kit had somehow wormed his way into the ranks as another potential love interest when she knew she couldn't commit to one.
But somehow, kissing Kit felt like being up in the clouds still - far away from her worries, just enjoying the blissful moment. And as Kit gave a possessive squeeze of her ass, she wondered idly just how much he'd be willing work for her.