Pink Green Blue

Rush by Hourglass winnerinfinitesimal

Rating: NC-17. Created: December 21st, 2005. Updated: September 9th, 2007. Read Reviews (54)
Disclaimer: Characters, the magical world, etc, is property of J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros, not the owner of this fic.


By: Infinitesimal 




He still isn’t sure how they got here, sticky and feverish, Lily pressed against the trunk of an old oak tree, his big hands tangled in her hair. It’s two days before end of term and the hottest day of the year. They’d wound up in the forest after just the right amount of taunting– Lily never backed off a challenge. He supposed she’d done something very stupid, like unbutton the top of her shirt or bite her bottom lip, or, really, just stand still for a bit too long under the gleaming yellow sun. Hadn’t she learned well enough by now that she was completely (totally, violently, uncontrollably) irresistible?

And god, she’s fucking gorgeous in the sunlight, with her messy hair and eager eyes. Her pristine white school shirt is damp and held together by just two buttons in the middle, he’d gotten distracted before he could finish with that. He likes the press of her skin and bra against it, mmm, black today, fuck, and he takes a moment to pull away and just look at her. Colt legs bare and glistening, splayed a bit, skirt rumpled and pushed up, up, up. She’s perfect in every way except for her insecurity, which leads her to bringing trembling fingers up to close her shirt.

"Don’t." He moves back in so their bodies touch and takes hold of her hands. "You’re so fucking beautiful, Lily." One hand he places on his chest, the other he brings to his mouth, where he presses hot open mouthed kisses on the inside of her wrist.

"I love you like this," he pants. "When you’re so spread open. Debauched."

She writhes against him and he thinks, move again, make that sound again, and I swear, oh, I swear I’ll explode.

"I want to feel you." He hisses in her ear, kissing it. "Every inch of you. God, you drive me mad."

"James, oh," She whimpers, and it sounds like a prayer. "Please."

He places a hand on either side of her face and moves down, down, down, until he’s caressing the soft skin of her thighs, up, up, up where her skirt is trapping that warmth, that delicious heat. He can feel it pulsing and pulsing and she arches off the tree trunk when his fingers brush against it.

"Please?" He questions her hoarsely, and he wants her so bad. He rubs up hard against her hip and reaches underneath the damp cotton of her panties, she cries out so loud when he does that thing with his middle finger. "Tell me what you want." He whispers, hot open mouthed kisses, and she tastes like cinnamon from her toast that morning and the butterbeer he had bought for her, ran all the way to Hogsmeade under his cloak and bought for her, just because she said she’d never tried one before. I want you to experience everything he’d told her, and she’d looked so innocent, with her hair spread out like fire across his pillow, in her little girl pajamas and her bright pink socks. I want to show you the world.

"I want," She pants, bleary eyed against his mouth. She grips his shoulders so hard and he hopes there will be bruises, because then she would lie in bed next to him and kiss each little crescent mark she’d dug into his skin, with a rush of warm breath and an I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Because sometimes that was better than anything, when they were naked and quiet and sleepy and he knew she cared about him, god, she had too, she just had too, she had to love him as much as he loved her, even if she was afraid to say it, or think it, or feel it.

"I want-" She breaks off, panting, but he knows exactly what she’s asking for, even if she can’t bring herself to say it.

He hooks his fingers inside the tops of her panties and pulls them down her legs, holding her up as she stumbles out of them. She undoes his belt with clumsy fingers and all of the air in his body escapes his lungs in one great woosh, because she’s unbuttoned his boxers and is slipping her little hand inside. In that moment he swears that this feeling is everywhere, this euphoria, it’s pulsing in the air around them, ricocheting through his body and the trees and the whole goddamn world, he’s sure, because there is nothing left but him and her and her and him and god, it feels, it just, it’s so good.

Suddenly she lets go of him and he’s latching her legs around his hips and he’s supporting her entire body against the tree, careful, he hopes, not to hurt her. And then in one quick movement he’s, he’s, oh he’s inside her and it’s hot and tight and oh, oh, god, she does that thing with her hips and it’s his turn to leave bruises on the delicate flesh of her thighs. She cries out again and he doesn’t want to hurt her but he can’t stop, can’t imagine ever stopping. The world is spinning around him and he’s crying out so loud, and then he opens his eyes and sees her there, her head stretched back, the sun glinting on her skin, and he thinks, it’s more than just love, god, god, god, it’s more, it’s more, it’s infinite. Later, when he feels her come around him, the sound of his name on her lips hushed and beautiful, everything goes completely still before exploding in a rush of color and sound.

"God," He whispers, and he clings to her so tight and realizes he’s crying, because the world is falling down around them, and he’s just, he’s so fucking scared. "God, Lily. I love you so much."




Author's Note: REVISED! I think the changes are pretty obvious and pretty badly needed, but that's probably just because I've been staring at this story in my 'FICCY' folder for so many years. -__-; Anyways, hope you enjoy. Reviews are spectacular, and I am still amazed beyond belief that this thing won second place in the Hourglass Awards. -shakes head-

And I sort of apologize for all the italics, btw, but not really because I like them, because they are passionate and so is James so nyahhh.

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