Clandestine | Theodore Nott

The First Week of the Summer

t.w: sexual content

Theodore flipped them over on the silk sheets. Starla pulled off her shirt, revealing a lace bralette and leaned down to kiss him. Hands made their way up and down her legs and grabbed her arse. She unbuttoned his blouse messily and eventually simply ripped it off.

"Fuck— Star," mumbled Theodore. He started toying with her brassiere and then it was gone.

She made her way down his body and pulled off his sweatpants in a quick motion, then she made her way up again but after a fraction of a seconds hesitation, stopped at his thighs.

"What?"

"You said you were a bit stiff from your workout," said she, with a tone of finality.

He already knew what she meant.

She smirked and sat herself down on her knees on the floor and he moved to the edge of the bed. She pulled down his boxers and let his cock spring out. She looked up at him and smiled, he caressed her cheek with his thumb and she started circling his head with her thumb, he inhaled sharply and let go.

Her lips wrapped around his head and she bobbed up and down slowly at first. Then, she made her way down to the base, sucked as she went up. He groaned lowly and held her hair in a sort of ponytail. She continued doing that for a few moments but sped up the pace after a while.

"Oh fuck yeah," mumbled he.

Her tongue circled his head. It seemed as if he couldn't hold it in anymore so he started guiding her head up and down. She flattened her tongue.

He swallowed with force and groaned, letting his head fall back.

Theodore thought about the dream he'd had as he ate breakfast in the empty Nott estate. His distance from Starla had affected him to say the least. His distance from all of his friends had affected him, as a matter of fact, but then again he didn't have wet dreams about Blaise. He ate his eggs Benedict with a cup of tea as he read the latest issue of the Daily Prophet with a small frown on his face. His brown locks were slightly messy, he had taken the loneliness as a guarantee of the fact that he could wear whatever he wanted, therefore he was shirtless in his pyjama bottoms. He wore slippers as well, a pair that Draco had gifted him as a joke, they had rabbit ears. He would never wear them if his father were home.

Theodore's summer had been very dull, he hadn't seen any of his friends, not even Starla. He already missed them. Notwithstanding that he had only been on holiday for week, and perhaps some distance from his friends was for the best. Regardless, he imagined what they were doing at that moment. Draco was probably in his room, reading, while Daphne was eating a late breakfast with her sister, Blaise was either conversing with his mother or practicing his Quidditch skills, Starla was tanning or screaming at her brother, and Pansy was tanning. Three of the latter alternatives were correct, Starla was tanning, Draco was in his room and Blaise was practicing Quidditch. But two were not, Pansy was kicking furniture in the sitting room, and Daphne was eating breakfast next to her unconscious sister in St. Mungos. Who said summer would be fun?

"Master Theodore," a small voice squeaked.

"Yes, Peery?" asked he.

"A letter from Miss Black." He bowed and gave his master an envelope.

"Thank you, Peery." Theodore didn't usually thank the house elf, although, frankly, he was happier than he had been in 21 hours, which was when he'd last gotten a letter from his girlfriend.