The "Oldies"

She was pleased that he was not fighting her as much as one might expect him to. He could have been a right miserable arse about the whole ordeal, but he seemed to settle on slightly mopey arse instead, which meant she still got her way just a little bit. Honestly, Dom sort of enjoyed his inherent near-misanthropic nature. Most of her friends were young'uns who liked nothing more than to babble and grope and make scenes. They were people pleasers, the lot of them, chasing after their own desires. So to have befriended - though Declan would certainly argue they were nothing more than colleagues - someone who chose to keep to himself and was so unwilling to bend even if it meant livening the party... it was a fun challenge.

It was also a little more genuine. Which was a refreshing breath.

He made a comment about his hips and Dom snorted, glancing away to see if anyone else had caught the remark. Then she remembered who she was surrounded by. There were only a few students who would actually get the joke out of experience, and the rest were kidding themselves.

He made the comment about conversation and Dom flicked her eyebrows up in exasperation. He continued on to complain about the kids, pulling her closer - which was nice. Still, he had not saved any breath for anything other than complaining, and she just had to tease him for it. She furrowed her brow, curved her mouth, and wrinkled her nose. Then, in her best impression of an old man, said, "Damn kids, with their new-fangled dance moves. Stupid women, wanting to have conversation when in their company. What is this world coming to - in my day-" Someone bumped into her and she turned her head. "Watch it, bub!"

She wheeled back around to face Declan, gasping. "Oh, no! You're contagious."

The smirk on her face lasted for awhile. She had to leave it there, for her joke had been a pretty good one, if she didn't mind tooting her own horn - and she never minded that. But that smirk slid right off at Declan's attempt for conversation.

Right. That was that whole... adult problems thing that she had avoided like the plague. Her feet stopped and for a second, they jerked out of rhythm of the music. But she blinked, and picked it back up, figuring that if she did not know what to say, she at least knew what not to do, and that was to make a big deal out of it. The song ended a measure or two later anyway, and they had the excuse to release each other and clap along with the rest of the crowd.

She looked over at Declan. "How about that drink?"

It didn't take nearly as long as it should have for Declan and Dom to knock back several drinks, and it wasn't long before he found himself wandering down the halls of Hogwarts with Dom under his arm, ensuring that she didn't stumble over her own feet - or, worse perhaps: his. So when he released a laugh at one of her comments, it wasn't even restrained, his head tipping back and the sound far louder than it should have been. It was absurd, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew as much and wanted not to act that way. But he couldn't help it. It just felt really good! So why shouldn't he do it, right? It felt good, and most of the time he just had this weird ache and it felt shitty, so wasn't he allowed to feel good every now and then?

Declan leaned towards Dom, his forehead pressed into her hair as they turned a corner and he felt the sway that the alcohol caused. "Oh, hell," he muttered against her ear before forcing himself to lift his head and look where he was going. "Iiiiii'm going to have to get back home. Damn," Declan breathed, running a hand over his features.

His fingers were scratched a bit by the scruff on his jaw and the top of his neck, and he wondered for a moment if he should shave it. But that might not go well when he was drinking, he reminded himself quickly. He didn't want to wake up with some strange patches, or cuts, or anything else. But what was he supposed to do about getting home? He hated the floo, and wouldn't use it if he could help it. But apparating was an obvious no-go for him. Not in Hogwarts.

He should have kept his glass of whisky. He'd left it somewhere - where did he leave it? Oh well. He was gone enough. "Oi," he realized, looking towards Dom. "The Lounge?" he asked, not able to formulate the reason in words. There was probably alcohol there, he presumed. And if he was going to be drunk, might as well be raging drunk, eh? Most of his customers seemed to enjoy it, and he didn't let it happen often enough. Now, he wanted it badly.

Now this was a better night.

At some point in their wanderings, Dom had given up on the dress and had dodged into an empty classroom to summon her bag and pull out her extra clothes - as used to the party life as she was, she always kept an outfit or two handy. Dressed in more comfortable attire she felt freer to knock back drink after drink, having confiscated a bottle of fruity vodka from one student and securing the sherry and whiskey from the house elves. Was it responsible of them? Noooooo. Was it worth it?

...Yessssss.

She had never seen Declan more relaxed and she was loving it. All of her jokes and stories were received by the world's most obliging audience and she was feeling more and more like a star with every laugh he uttered. He leaned into her and she laughed, turning to plop a kiss on his forehead. "Muah!" she announced. "Wellllll... aren't you the envy of all the boys?" The exaggerated enunciation of her b's elicited another laugh out of her.

Declan suddenly brought up an excellent point. How were they to get home? She turned and looked at him, her big eyes full of pitiful concern. "What if we're stuck here forever?" He immediately solved the issue and relief washed over her, soon followed by excitement. "Yes! That. That place of... lounging. Yessir, that is the place to be! Put it here!" She held out her hand but, already impatient, scooped his hand up and hurried towards the Lounge. She paused at the end of the hallway and spun around, almost causing him to knock into her. She put a finger to his lips and then bounced it against her, silencing them both. "Ssssh, shh!" And in the loudest whisper that ever existed, she hissed, "THEY'LL HEAR US!"

So they snuck around the corner to the lounge, bolting the last few feet. They rushed in the door and she spun around, closing the door behind them.

Declan probably would have turned a bit red - or his ears would have, at the least - were it not for the buzz flowing through his veins. Instead, he grinned, shaking his head and gesturing to his suit. "Obbbbviously. Everyone should want a nice suit like this, eh? It's faaancy." Declan jested, a smirk pulling at his features. Lucky for the both of them, he had forgotten about his mention of Danica. Otherwise, he wasn't sure he would have made any comments about his potentially attractive features. (Which, really, was a stupid way to put it. Because he was, in fact, good-looking. But Declan himself would never have said so.)

Declan let himself be pulled along, picking up the pace enough to bring himself alongside her again before falling into his normal gait. When she stopped, though, he nearly fell right into her, his eyes widening in surprise as she reached up and set her finger against his lips. But he supposed it worked, because Declan didn't even try to respond, despite her inability to keep her own voice down. When she pulled her hand back, his tongue darted out without his asking it to, passing over his lower lip once before retreating.

How funny, he thought to himself, that he was almost acting like Dom now that he was stupidly drunk. The door was shut, and Declan leaned against the wall in an attempt to keep his balance. He nearly allowed himself to explain that he had been fun once. That he hadn't always had the masks. But instead, he pushed off the wall, tugging Dom along with him in his search for another drink.

"Where's the liquorrrr?" he murmured, pulling Dom under his arm as he wandered about the room. "That..." he pointed to one of the couches, "looks comfy as hell. I call it."

They were finally inside, safe and sound. Dom heaved a breath and the blew air upwards over her face, her bangs floating on the current of air. She reached up and brushed her hair out of her face - the little updo she had done for the occasion had pretty much fallen out. She reached up and pulled the last of the pins from her hair and slipped them into her bag. She reached up and shook her hair free, combing it through so that if fell and bounced on her shoulders. She shook her head and laughed - freedom.

She took in the lounge and gasped, groping for Declan's hand. "Dec. Dec. Dec! We're going to get in trouble! This is the staff lounge!" The look of fear and anxiety immediately melted away as the realization hit her. "Oh waaaaaaait." She laughed heartily, patting her chest in coordination with the rhythm of her laughter. "We're staff. We can't get in trouble with ourselves!" She looked at him, dead serious. "I won't tell you. Don't tell me! Okay?"

He pulled her along, and she strolled with him, looking around the room. She took a drink of the sherry to find it was now empty. "That's stupid." She set it on a nearby desk and nearly lost Dec as he decided on a couch. She turned and looked at him in mild shock. "And leave me for the... for the... dogs?" She shook her head. "Me too!" And she let him go to race him to the couch.

"I like your hair," he informed her, the words over-enunciated to be sure she understood the compliment. He gave so few that Declan wanted her to register it properly. "Nearly as much as I like youu." He added, reaching towards her hair before she started talking again, distracting him.

"Oh, yeah, right," he nodded a few too many times. "I won't. Promise," Declan swore firmly, squeezing her shoulder to prove his point.

When she took off for the couch, it took him a few moments to realize he was supposed to follow her. Declan frowned - he had lost his advantage! So he waited until she had settled into the cushions before following, thinking it might be rather fun to surprise her, despite the fact that she told him she wanted to fight him over it. But regardless, because Declan didn't think it mattered much, he walked right over and sat on her legs. "Okay," he replied with a grin, "you can have it. But I'm still gonna lay here," he informed her. It was nearly a warning, but he didn't realize how irrational it was to say it was hers but expect to keep it anyway.

So, ignoring any protests she might have given, Declan spread himself across the couch, pressing into the back of it so she couldn't push him off even if she tried. Not until he fell asleep, at least. "How about," he drew the words out as he looked over at Dom, "you grab us drinks, eh? I danced earlier, so it's your turn to be the gentleman."

Because that made sense.

It was almost no competition getting to the couch before Declan - could the man even run? She stumbled twice, but had managed to face plant smack dab into the couch. With a grumble, she managed to roll over and then sit up, blinking her eyes exaggeratedly. Her view had barely righted itself before it was completely obstructed and a weight fell into her lap - literally. "Oof!" Declan had decided she was the most comfortable seat in the place and chosen her - and she wasn't sure if it made her feel insulted or flattered.

"Declaaaaan," she complained. "One butt per seat, Mister!" He rolled past her and she slipped from underneath him. She found that he had pushed her to the edge of the couch, and he was nestled towards the back of it. She adjusted, turning to look at the man stretched out in front of her. She reached out and plucked his tie up, running her fingers along the length of the tie - there was something special about a man in a suit.

And damn sexy too.

He asked about the drinks and her eyes narrowed. She leaned in, squinting at him with pure judgement. She moved in until her nose was almost touching his. "Deal." She withdrew quickly, standing, and she nearly fell over from the sudden movement. She held her hands out slightly to right herself and moved slowly towards the refreshment bar, glancing back at him as she went. "Don't fall asleep!"

She reached the bar and began to rustle around inside, trying to pick what would be best. She found two glasses and a bottle of old Firewhiskey. "Hey-a!" She poured the drinks straight into the glasses and whipped around, before deciding to abandon the glasses and just bring the bottle instead. She took a drink on the way and then turned and plopped down onto Declan's legs, returning the favor. She grinned deviously at him and tilted her head, before lifting the bottle out of his reach. "Here!"

Declan nudged at her with one foot, pointing out that, "A-at least yours is a niiice one, if it must hog its own seat."

He probably would have said more, were it not for her decision to reach for him tie and distract him. It took him a moment to figure what it was that he had been talking about, but the drink felt more important. He nearly went cross-eyed when she leaned in, blinking at her curiously. What was she-? Oh.

So when she got up, he toed off his shoes one at a time, determined to fulfill her request that he stay awake. The alcohol wouldn't be given to him if he wasn't awake, he reminded himself. But then she just left the glasses behind and he nearly frowned, but she brought the important part - the rest of the whisky. She sat on him, and Declan knew he deserved it. Well, a part of him did, anyway, because he didn't object right away. Instead, he sat up, throwing an arm around her middle in hopes of keeping her from toppling over - and, you know, spilling the drink - but found himself far closer to her than intended. Again. Oops.

He wasn't at all sure that he was sorry, though. His free hand pushed into the back of the couch, and Declan half wanted to break the moment by reaching towards the decanter. He was in reach now, so it wouldn't be all that much trouble. The real trouble was that he would have to move away once he'd taken it, and something in him didn't want to. When he spoke next, the words came out with at a lower pitch, and his gaze swept over her face in an attempt to read her. Somehow, his words weren't even all that jumbled, either.

"Are you really going to fight me on this, love?"

And, no, reader. For reference, he had not used that word in reference to anyone else lately. Not in over a year, actually. Not since Danica.

The act of her sitting on him was almost immediately followed by him sitting up, pulling himself close to her. She smiled down at him cheekily, certain that his eyes were on the whiskey, but also pleasantly surprised that he was not shirking away from the high volume of touch that had been going on that night. This was the guy who had jumped and flinched at every added touch on the dance floor, but the majority of their drinking had consisted of one slung over the other. And now, no fight when she decided to sit on him. Encouragement, if anything.

It was nice. Dom missed touching people. Being close to people. Being intimate.

She blinked at him, the bottle still held aloft and out of his reach. Declan Arryn - she had met the man in this very lounge, had she not? The plan had been for him to be a coworker, if anything. They came off as so very different, and Dom could not have predicted that they could actually become any sort of semblance of friends. Friends who danced, who mocked children, who got drunk in the halls of Hogwarts.

The smile slid from her face as she considered all of this, looking more and more pensive. She could feel his hand around her, making her feel small, making her feel encircled. His eyes had been on the bottle but they were on her face now, smiling, waiting for her next move. Waiting for her to refuse to give the bottle, or to hand it over willingly. But Dom was always a fan of the unpredictable. So her arm slipped down and fell on his shoulder. Cradling the bottle in one hand, the other hand came up to Declan's face and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Declan wasn't actually sure what he wanted her reply to be, upon asking his question. And he hadn't really considered the endearment that fell from his lips without his even having to think about it, so he didn't pause afterwards to consider whether or not he should have said it. The word didn't even register in his mind, aside from a quiet little voice that informed him it was actually pretty okay. It was normal to consider moving on. He just hadn't intended to think about that with Dom. Declan knew he probably shouldn't have let the curiosity begin, but it was too late now.

At first, he didn't understand. Declan hadn't been that close to anyone, except for perhaps once or twice in the past year and a half, but he let his fingers splay across her side, pressing warmth through the fabric of her shirt. He didn't understand why she extended her arm past his shoulder, effectively blocking his best attempts at reaching for it. Not that he bothered. But he certainly didn't understand why, along with the arm draped over his shoulder, Dom felt the need to cradle his cheek in her palm.

A brief thought about his scruff returned, but Declan ignored it, given what Dom decided to do next. In that single breath, he felt somehow sobered by her action, but just as buzzed. It wasn't brought on by alcohol or the lack of it, but instead because of the fact that she caught his lips with her own. A quiet groan rumbled in the back of his throat, and although it took him a moment to properly comprehend what Dom wanted, once he figured it out, he didn’t stop to think. Thinking seemed pointless, especially since his thoughts weren’t totally sensible after consuming so much drink.
 
Declan met her kiss, move for move, using the hand at the back of the couch to keep them upright once he stopped paying attention to his balance. Nothing mattered at all, except the fact that he wanted her closer. Declan wasn’t sure if that was possible, but he wanted it. He wanted that – wanted her – more than he wanted the whisky in her hand. More than he wanted air.
 
So Declan pulled back, albeit reluctantly, drawing his hand up her arm, and took the decanter from her hand so he could set it down a little bit clumsily. Then he turned, taking her with him, until she was settled properly on his lap and Declan was leaning up against the couch back. His hands, now free, pushed into her hair and brought her in so he could claim another kiss.