James and Lily, and a whole lot of firsts. Smut.
James Potter doesn't really know what he's doing the first time he kisses Lily Evans but he likes to think he can pull it off since he's a fast learner and all that.
But the string of saliva that connects their lips as they pull apart seems to tell a completely different story and despite wanting to die in that very moment, he's quite grateful that Lily has enough grace and tact to simply sever the line of spit between them and laugh in his face like the good human being she is. He doesn't know if he could handle pity or disgust, but the teasing – mortifying as it is – is something he could at least work with.
"You haven't done that before, have you?" she asks, her skin seeming to glow as she tosses that long red hair over her shoulder.
She doesn't sound condescending so he decides to tell her the truth, stupid boy he is. "Well, Rosaline Wilkes gave me a pity kiss after our horrid date back in fourth year, but it wasn't quite as proper or wet."
Her laughter rings throughout the corridors and despite everything, he likes it. "You mean to tell me that James Potter – the James Potter – hasn't been snogged in nearly two and a half years? And it wasn't even a proper one? What did she leave you with a peck and that was it?"
James can feel his cheeks begin to burn and he tries to ignore it, but he can't stop the hand that inches towards the back of his head and ruffles his hair; his grin is sheepish but not exactly forced. "I said it was a bad date, didn't I? And no one else came along after that because I was kind of doing other stuff, so." He leaves it at that because he's embarrassed that he told her about the ever so disastrous Rosaline Wilkes but he also can't tell her about the full moon and everything that goes with it or all the time that he pined after her. He can't let her know that this was kind of a moment he'd been waiting for and yet hadn't anticipated the onslaught of saliva that ruined it.
But Lily's smiling kindly at him now and nodding her head and his heart sinks as he wonders if she's going to give him a pity peck on the lips like Rosaline Wilkes and then leave him in the corridor to his humiliation and misery.
But instead she surprises him – like she always does – and pulls him by his tie so that he's down to her level and she gives him that mischievous look he thinks he might love her for.
"Well, for your sake, we could always practice, you know. Unless, that is, you're too busy with 'other stuff.'"
James shakes his head frenetically, his glasses sliding down his nose ever so slightly. "No ma'am. Not at all busy."
And so they practice. And he thinks he might just get the hang of it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's really embarrassing when it happens.
"Er, I need to run to the loo..."
"D-did you just cum in your trousers?" She coughs and then she's laughing.
"Do we really need to talk about it? You know it happened. I know it happened. So we both know it happened. And it'd be really nice if we didn't talk about it." His face is buried in the pillow.
She's still laughing.
And for whatever reason that compels him to speak more, to defend himself, stupid boy he is, and his voice is muffed by the pillow he has firmly pressed to his face. "This is your fault." He sounds so defeated, so glum – if only he can see the blush that has donned his girlfriend's cheeks but all he can hear is the laughter.
