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No amount of cushioning charms could make the cold ground feel comfortable in the middle of winter, trips funded by those too cheap and comfortable in their positions of power to care for low-life curse breakers as the Wizarding World expanded outward into long-forgotten sites. Supplied a single flimsy tent with the cheapest enlargement charm that they used even around towns to pocket more of their bosses' galleons, lessons between the two best for hunting when they were in no mood for adapting to local muggles.
She knew it, Sebastian knew it, and they had come up with their own creative ways to deal with all that came with the job however, jokes and stories shared on the numerous trips, sleeping whichever way was best to be settled by the time it was best to get moving.
She personally seemed to enjoy a fine concoction of potions and a charm for the weather, despite knowing it'd be gone by morning. With different varieties of sleeping draughts for getting to check out of reality and a wiggenweld to shake off the kinks in her neck, charms always failing for one reason or another in the magical places they'd find themselves in.
And while Sebastian enjoyed showing off some new invention, a new charm so-and-so swore by as he unshrunk everything but an outright mattress to pile up on and under, it wasn't the true method that had him falling into a lovely sleep, waking with a sore body part from where he failed to pile comfort onto the ground with. Still, he tossed and turned until the lanterns were blown out, until her breathing went steady, and knew no amount of jostling would wake her.
Despite sleep being so nessacary for words to stop spinning across already old and difficult to read faded pages related to wherever they tredged to, to ensure they didn't lose limbs or have their fingers turned into carrots like others, it was a constant battle to remain sane.
But perhaps he had already gone quite insane, their knowing looks and flushes a perfect indicator that she certainly felt the same on all their travels, but she never made her move, and he never made his while she was awake.
"Only reason you're a curse breaker is to keep me entertained, you know that, right?" Reinforcing the oddly weak warming charm she cast as he slipped into her sleeping bag, there was no mocking glare at his outright insult.
An obvious lie as they were partnered for a reason with their specializations, him in cursed objects and her an expert in the arthimacy that some ancestor adored and charms, he still adored teasing her regardless. And of course, her bite back when she was awake. Reminiscent of their first few quests in the middle of summer with sweat blinding them as the days lasted too long, he almost missed seeing her genuine reactions when their heads would clash almost violently.
Curling around her like it was an ordinary occurrence anywhere else though, his lips along her neck to place kisses and to resist the temptation to mark her, he sighed peacefully when his fingers quickly explored her sopping wet folds. Sprawled on her back with her legs already laid open without him trying, he couldn't resist smirking at the soft sound that came from underneath the heavy blanket over them in the tent. "See? So wet in your sleep. You'd find a better career as a whore, darling."
Another lie, the brief image lurching a possessive rope to wrap around his own throat, sending his hips to roll against her leg for friction, chasing away the cursed thought.
Perhaps Sebastian was merely bad with feelings, only truly threatened by the idea of her being assigned to another partner other than him or furthering her career into working for some actual big name like the Ministry itself than the self-important hacks they dealt with. He didn't wish to scare her away, but he needed to feel something other than whatever friendship they had developed while working together.
Maybe a coward was better - impatiently waiting for her to wake up and say anything so he didn't have to explain himself anywhere but at the end of her wand.
With the cold creeping in each time the comforter moved too much to deliever goosebumps along both of their skins, he found himself laying between her legs almost flat against her. Hands gripping the cloth to cacoon them together with their heads sticking out, foreplay that night seemed to be him just blindly rubbing his cock along her slit as he smothered his face into the pillow beside her head. Forever resisting the urge to bite down and suck on her neck, drooling on the pillow for her to roll her eyes at when she woke up, he shivered as his lower head caught on her entrance for a second.
"You're never going to get far in this profession if all you can do is take this," Sebastian grunted in her ear, handlessly attempting to line himself with her as it became too much. Loving the idea that she was having sweet dreams of him even through the dreamless potions - he couldn't help but hope. "Every quest we're on, I fucking do this, and you still haven't figured it out - what, can't tell the difference between a new load from your previous one?"
He hoped she slept uncomfortably tonight to drink a Wiggenweld in the morning as he buried himself within her, immediately bottoming himself out as her cunt protested in the way it squeezed on him. Or welcomed him home, rather, in a tight hug.
Uncaring for her comfort as she was buried underneath layers from the snow that day, unable to even catch a strand of her hair whipping in the wind from being hidden underneath her hat and scarf, he immediately withdrew just to slam back in. Arms tensing as he squeezed her closer to him in return for her fluttering core, needing to drown in her scent and to fuck away the day's stress on the only other that could understand, her pillow was clenched between his teeth to speak around.
"You weren't made for anything else, I swear," listening to the symphony of skin on skin and ignoring the way he broke out in sweat, the brunet couldn't deny the way he craved to roughly shake her body with each thrust. "Weren't made for anyone else," almost lovingly whispered that had him reeling his own head back as his heart lurched, he had to release the blanket to bury his hands into her hair, their shoulders exposed to the cold as he quickened his pace.
Not really pulling but only holding her head in place for him to rest his forehead against hers, a kiss was brushed against her lips. "My dumb little slut," breathlessly murmured before a hand lowered to sweeten her dreams - or sleep at least.
Squeezing his eyes shut at the familiar twinge of guilt as his peak neared, need out-living his want, some nights meaning no amount of playing with her clit able to make her finish with him, and he had to bury it deep within as filth poured from his lips further at the idea of simply using her to get some sort of sleep tonight.
Groans buried into her pillow as his cock twitched, his hand finding her hip instead to lift one of her legs for a better angle, Sebastian never even bothered to clean her up anymore.
Spilling his seed deep within her to drip out during the night and dirty the sleeping bad once more, he ignored the creeping thoughts, the questions that piled up as time went on.
She was, after all, nothing that he said.
Waking to the tent lit up with light, she was the first to slip out of the space and find the nearest tree overlooking its entrance. Bundled in layers once more and another warming charm, she barely felt the moss covered in frost through it all as she exposed her lower half directly to the cold air, her tired smile at the mess dripping from her legs being the reason she slept so well.
A tad speechless like every other night he did this, she let the back of her head hit the tree, still unable to find the words to correct this game she played with him.
In truth, it had been on purpose that very night of whatever this was, began.
Middle of summer but still attempting to be proper at the start of their partnership before they realized just how little their employers cared about professionalism as long they did their jobs, the teasings had turned rather aggressive and almost crude from their frustration. Unable to find an ancient Nott cursed home in the overgrown vegetation brought on by devils snare and a cursed front gate, and it had been taking everything in her to not say what they both must have been thinking.
Why can't we just fuck our problems away right now?
Unable to stop admiring the way his sweat dripped down his sun-kissed freckled cheeks, watching the way his Adams apple bobbed as he chugged from a canteen or the way his forearms flexed as he gripped his wand in irritation, he caught her just as many times as she caught him staring at her.
And so, she pretended to fall sleep the night she nearly slipped up. Not wanting to be the one to give in first out of pettiness of his attitude, she was naked under a simple sheet that just so happened to slip down as she tossed and turned with a lantern still lit. Only, she hadn't meant to actually fall asleep as she waited for him to say something as the night cooled. He merely took too long and by the time her eyes opened into her pillow with him pushing in, she merely snuggled closer into the pillow and relaxed. Responding slowly to his surprisingly gentle touches - until she froze in surprise at what was falling from his sinful lips, believing she was still asleep.
She did enjoy it, honestly. Only pride kept her mouth zipped shut even as he watched her the morning afterwards, a range of questions that she shrugged off in silent humiliation of being unable to confess how much she needed for him to keep going as he did anything but outright ask if she was awake or truly asleep. Unable to naturally give in without a fight of what exactly just pleased her at that point, his otherwise gentlemen and somewhat respectful nature keeping him from closing the distance when they both were awake, she didn't know what else to do anymore.
Presenting a show of the potions just as his charms or bag of shrunken things were; it had become a game to her. A pleasurable one that left her leaning against a tree, rock, or in an open clearing to chase after her own pleasure. The mornings after the sleeping draughts were traded for numbing ones, making it easier to pretend when he was rough, were always the worse though.
Filled with a combination of desperation and need for him to wake up and walk out of the tent to catch her in the act, forcing her legs to tremble as she finished alone and on her fingers - always traded for shame at being too prideful to confess and ask for him to try when she was 'awake.'