Jily oneshots

She's Thunderstorms (smut[ish?])

by elanev91

She's teasing him again.

She knows she shouldn't, not when they're out in public and there are people literally everywhere, but she also can't bring herself not to when looks the way that he does. He knows that she can't help herself when he's in a suit - his chaotic hair and perpetually crooked glasses clash so violently with the crisp, polished lines of his formal dress, that she honestly can't be held responsible for the places that her mind goes. He's all broad shoulders and smooth lines and cheeky smiles with a truly spectacular arse, and, really, how is she supposed to resist?

She's fighting a losing battle the minute he arrives at her flat to pick her up.

They're at another one of those bloody galas, another fundraiser for another cause hosted by another rich family, and as much as she hates going to these things, as long as she's on James' arm, she doesn't mind them too much. James has had to go to these things since he was sixteen, so at least she hasn't had to put up with them as long as he has. He only continues to go because he knows how important all these causes are to his mother and he wants to be a "supportive son" - Lily supposes she can't fault him for it.

Euphemia and Fleamont are floating through the crowd somewhere, the last she saw Sirius, he had Remus by the hand and was dragging him into the centre of the dance floor no one ever really danced on, but her eyes are locked on James, have been locked on James since the moment he picked her up at her flat wearing that bloody tuxedo. He was trying to talk to Lord Glastonbury or whatever the fuck his name is (God, wouldn't that be funny, Lord of a giant bloody mud pit), but Lily decided that she'd had enough, thank you very much, of standing there smiling like she actually gave a fuck about these people and their eight hundred horses or whatever James is talking to them about. And so, when James cracks another joke about something she can't remember, she presses her hand into his forearm, leans her chest just close enough that it brushes his upper arm, and from the way that he looks at her, she knows that he knows that it's on.

He tries to shoot her a warning look, a please god you're going to kill me if you keep doing this look, but he should know from the glint in her eye that she has no intention of doing any such thing.

Though she does bide her time.

He knows the game is on, and she can see him watching her out of the corner of his eye, hyperaware of every little movement that she's making, waiting for her to touch him in a way just a bit too inappropriate for the Savoy ballroom - his attention is exactly what she wanted and, really, he should know better by now.

She doesn't really start playing until they're sitting at dinner. James and Sirius are no longer seated together because all the families the Potter's socialise with have learned that putting James and Sirius at the same table only spells trouble (as the ice swan at the 2010 fundraiser for Great Ormond Street can attest to). It doesn't matter that they're 25 now, that their antics no longer involved ice creatures of any kind - the people have learned their lesson, and so Lily and James are seated as far apart from Sirius and Remus as it is physically possible to get. James always sulks a bit at first because the seating arrangement usually means he gets stuck with the rich, older couples who find him charming, and he hates having to talk about polo and all that other nonsense all night (Sirius is still not trusted enough to sit with anyone other than the slightly delinquent cousins and he wouldn't prefer it any other way). James sits there though, with a broad smile on his face, determined to look like he's not thinking about stabbing a fork into his eye while Lord So-And-So talks about his fox hunt or whatever it is he does, and at the first opportunity, Lily uses James' determined composure to her advantage.

Tonight, her opportunity comes early, really, really early. Soup course early.

The servers have just whisked back off to wherever it is they go while the insufferable people in the ballroom pretend to eat, Lily sets her napkin in her lap as she laughs at a joke Lady Whoever has just told, and only one of her hands returns back to the table.