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WHO: Sybille Matteris and Bro Strider
TONE: Bro is a teenager
RATING: PG-13/R for language and Bro being a horny teenager
WHEN: About a week after the teacher's retreat
WHERE: Bro's flat in London
WHAT: Bro invited Sybille over to his flat, and she accepted the offer.
STATUS: On going!

[In retrospect, Sybille probably should have given Strider a bit of warning before showing up at his flat. She wasn't sure if he would even be there, after all, but for some reason she doubted he did much outside of his home or Hogwarts. She also didn't know if his brats weren't there, because her and children got along about as well as oil and vinegar.

She knocked on the door sharply, smoothing out her skirt with one hand. She was a bit...nervous, to see the eldest Strider. Which was simply absurd, because she had no reason at all to be nervous. This was just going to be sex. He was just a colleague; a bizarre, attractive, and somewhat intriguing one. There was no reason to feel this way. She was being stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Hopefully the man would answer the door soon, and they could get this over with.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Right? Finally somebody who understands.

[At her other statement, he moves over to another cabinet and grabs a couple of glasses. He pours a generous amount for both of them, before reaching out and handing her one of them.]

Cheers. [He doesn't even hold up his glass, he just brings his cup up and takes a swig.]

[She chuckles, taking the glass from him.]

Santé.

[And with that she is going to take a rather large swig-slash-gulp of it.]

[They're both the classiest motherfuckers. Seriously, look at the way they're just sipping it so casually.

Except nope goddamn they're pretty much chugging it. He has to refill his glass in a few seconds. Ah the burn is fantastic. It actually makes him feel a bit less. Awkward.

He reaches out once she brings the glass down to refill her cup without her having to ask.]

I'm not gonna comment on how unlady-like that gulping was.

[And she's just going to talk another swig-gulp. Fuck yeah, she's classy as shit.]

There's no need to pretend to be a lady when in company that won't judge you for being unlady-like.

Oh, so you're not a lady, then? What's that make you... a chick with a dick?

[Oh. Fuck did he just say that? The burning, it gives him more confidence than he needs. Maybe he drank too much too fast. Goddamn lousy magical fucking alcohol. He's never like this on regular shit.]

[Oh no she's choke laughing.]

No, I assure you. My balls are purely metaphorical.

[And another sip.]

My breasts are real, though.

[SO. CLASSY.]

[Oh good, she's laughing. That makes him feel better. He can handle being laughed at for the most part. Unless he feels like he's being laughed... at. He laughs along and then raises his eyebrows as a smirk tugs at his lips.]

Well... Are these metaphorical balls big enough to... make any first moves?

[Because his balls aren't right now, admittedly. But he can at least come off cocky while saying so.]

[She eyes him for a moment, finishing her fire whiskey slowly. She sets the glass on the counter, and steps close to Bro, effectively invading his space.]

Oh, yes. I imagine they are.

[Eternally thankful that heels put her so close to Bro's level, she leans forward, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips.]

But it takes two to tango, doesn't it?

[He can't help the way his heartbeat picks up at those words, at the warm feeling her body radiates as it gets closer to his. When she leans in for a kiss, it nearly completely takes his breath away.

God, Strider, back to being a fucking awkward fuck.

His cheeks take a reddish tinge to them, and he takes a step back. He's not very subtle; he lifts his glass and downs the rest of it in one gulp. And then he tosses it behind him, where it shatters in the sink.]

Fuck yeah it does... [And then he steps forward again, closing the distance once more. There's only a moment's hesitation before he leans in and presses his lips to hers, leaving them there this time.]

[She starts at the sound of glass breaking - it's not a particularly pleasant sound to begin with, and it certainly brings back memories - but when Bro kisses her she relaxes.

She can do this part. Just...close her eyes, part her lips, and reach up to hold onto her face.

But that's when she pauses, a sick feeling pooling in her stomach. She drops her arms. Steps back. Rubs her shoulder, and she can feel where flesh becomes metal and all she can think about is the hideous marring at the seam, her disgusting red eye and the scars all along her body. She hasn't had sex since her last fight, the one that led her to quit the Ministry. She hasn't even put herself out there. But now she has, and she just.

She just knows she's disgusting and that Bro will turn her away as soon as he sees the full extent of her damage.]

[Kissing her made him feel more confident. Once he gets into it, it's easy and he can feel himself loosening up and letting go. He doesn't feel as awkward, because he's confident in himself when it comes to sex. He knows he's good at it and that's where he shines. It's just the social interaction before it that he's not used to. Because everyone always just wants to jump right in. So now that it's starting, he feels so much better.

He's just about to open his own mouth to deepen the kiss when she pulls away, and instantly he can tell there's something wrong. Had he done something wrong? Did he hurt her? He himself starts feeling a little sick, because. Fuck. He hates it when he upsets women. Or people he likes in general, really. And something about this is just different and it's scary.]

What's wrong? [There's concern not only in his voice, but in his eyes too.]

[All of her certainty has left her, and the awkward, terrible feeling is back. God, she's a fool. She thinks she's so amazing and flawless and she can't even have sex with a man she's attracted to.

She needs to get over herself.]

I haven't had sex in two years. Over two years, actually. I haven't been naked in front of anyone, either.

[A small, bitter smile, and she reaches up, brushing her fingertips along the edge of her eye patch. It's an almost-habit, something she does when she remembers getting cursed.]

Not since I lost body parts.

[Oh. Oh...

He doesn't know what to say. Suddenly he feels helpless. And awkward. He didn't realize she was so insecure. In a way he's reminded of how he felt just a few moments ago, and it makes him realize they're both similar in a lot of ways. More than he's ever really realized.

Seeing her like this hurts and he just wants to make it go away, but he doesn't know how. Hesitantly, he steps forward. His heart's going crazy, because for one he doesn't know what to do and is just kind of winging it, and for two he doesn't want to somehow make it worse.

He reaches out and takes hold of the hand that's on her eyepatch gently.]

None of that changes the fact that you're still one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen.

[She's not going to disagree with him. She knows she's attractive. She knows that, but she knows well enough that scars can be a major turn off to people.

She doesn't want to get so close to someone and then get shunned. That's why she's been alone for so long. Not that she was necessarily self-conscious, but because she can't predict reactions well enough. Maybe she's just a pessimist, but she doesn't believe anyone can look past all the mutilations she's gone threw.

Sybille knows it's irrational, and knows she's not damaged goods or anything ridiculous like that. It's just...hard to get over something she convinced herself of years ago.]

You flatter me, Strider.