Frank lounged in his garden, feet up as he took a deep drag of his cigarette. His loungewear kept him just warm enough in the dew of the morning. The sun was rising slowly in the east, as if it couldn’t believe it was time to be awake either. Marko was sniffing his way around the lawn. Frank ran his fingertips around the brim of his coffee mug as thoughts swirled in his mind. The bitter aroma rose to greet him, reminding him that he had things to do.

Soon, he told himself. The sun peaked through tree limbs, causing Frank to squint and look away, eyes catching the practice broom against the wall. A smirk slipped across his lips as wisps of smoke filtered out of his nostrils. She drove him crazy, and he was glad that she put up with him and his occasional mood swings. They worked in a way he couldn’t put into words.

Their last argument had been over something so ridiculous. Eyes closed as his head rested against the back of the chair, another breath of smoke leaving him. All of their arguments were dramatic and unnecessary; they stemmed from a lack of communication. Or miscommunication. Usually both. That didn’t mean that they gave up and broke up. Even if they had done that a couple of times as well.

As the cigarette burned to the filter, Frank snuffed it out in the ashtray before enjoying another long sip of the fresh coffee. He watched as Marko took off after a couple of chattery birds, remembering the last book hunt he’d been on. It had kept him away for a week and change, and if he’d thought he’d been exhausted from that... well. Laney proved him wrong. As if he was able to get any sleep that first night he was back. Last night, however, he’d slept like a carefree child. Arms and legs sprawled out across the bed, a foot hooked between her legs.

Which was why he was awake so early. All that sleep had to end. Frank had crept out of bed, made a pot of coffee, let the dog out, and decided on more relaxing before her game later.

Besides, he had important things to discuss later, and he wanted to have all his points in order before then.

Frank lifted his wand and threw the ball through the air, hoping to keep the pup from yapping too much as the birds narrowly escaped.

Laney crossed the garden in cut-off shorts, bare feet, a stretching yawn, and a faded gray t-shirt of Frank’s that was knotted at the side of her waist to compensate her frame. Despite England’s penchant for moody weather— and the impending April showers— she was already beginning to work up a hint of a tan, her olive skin having soaked up the offerings of a week’s practice. Today’s game would layer an excited flush upon it, or else a near-pallid disapproval. Both, most likely. And a bludger bruise or two for her bookish companion to kiss better.

Smartly messy hair was woven with seasonal changes, too, bits of caramel working their way in to the fabulously lazy wave that threatened to tickle her shoulders. It swept forward as she leaned vexingly over the back of Frank’s lounge chair; became obvious to any intruders that the cheekier bits of her figure had also seen the sun of late. Laney was getting used to a tumble in the grass, all of this room Frank had outside of the city. She was only mildly disappointed there were fewer such intruders (or unwitting passersby) to bring out the most in her voyeuristic kink.

Pointy elbows made themselves at home atop his much broader shoulders. Laney’s mouth found a sweet spot among his temple and wolfish hair. He smelled like all of her favorite things, tobacco, leather, coffee, and dog. Only bacon and sex could make it better, but she was sure those things lingered for his senses.

“You’re up too early,” she insisted in a nixing, muffled trace of his jaw. “I don’t need to be there yet.” So why couldn’t they have got some practice in?

As disciplined as she was where it counted, Laney liked to overstay her welcome in bed. She had been up at the crack of dawn yesterday; today would be an easy win, she thought. She would be unrelenting with the other team’s seeker. Her eyes shifted to the dog before she closed them softly against the peaking sun and Frank’s hot skin. She nibbled at his cheek, a smile. “Or do you want me to fetch? My coach might give you free tickets for kicking me into shape.” As if he didn’t have them already, or as if Laney couldn’t run circles around Marko. Maybe she couldn’t.

He’d heard her before he felt her, smelled her scent before her wisps of hair tickled his cheek. Still, he’d waited, smirking to himself as she bent over him, even if her elbows dug in a little harsh. Frank closed his eyes and took a slow, deep inhale of her, holding it for a couple of seconds before letting it out.

“Mmm...” He mumbled an agreement, a slight incline of his head acknowledging she was right. He was up too early. The downside to his schedule. His small smile broke out into a wide grin, eyes brooding in thought as he watched Marko tear after another toss of the ball. “Maybe we just attach the toy to you, and see how long you can outrun the pup.”

Frank turned his attention to her, head leaned in against hers. “I meant to let you sleep in.” His hand caught her wrist, dragging her slowly but surely around the chair. Frank wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap, giving a satisfied groan as he settled back into the chair.

“If you’re up, though...” Eyebrows bounced in amusement, a mischievous glint in his eye. If she couldn’t feel his suggestion, that was her fault.

Marko made his way back with the ball, plopping it into Laney’s lap. His tongue waggled out the side of his open mouth as he panted, eagerly waiting for the next throw. Frank let his wand rest and waited, watching the dog as much as he watched Laney, glancing between the two.

---

They were at the halfway point between full moons, and the one on the back of Laney’s shoulder idled appropriately, neither a bright orb of warning nor a weak, hidden gem. It was the perfect medium of the map on her tiny shorts. A constant reminder for Frank, perhaps, but this time it brought good tidings.

“If you want to attach a toy to me, it better not be for him,” she breathed warning against his skin. Still, if he told her to… they had played stranger games, and Laney liked being stretched to her limits. Or… pushed, rather. Both, perhaps, depending on the day.

She let herself be pulled (another favorite passivity), her slim seeker’s wrist stinging with small, invisible delight at the sudden thrill of Frank’s control. The lazy movement promised a slow build; she would have to earn it, the thing she wanted. They were both still sleepy.

“Did you?” She asked, as she rounded him. “That’s sweet.” Her words were a casual, obvious lie. And also, below the disbelief, the truth. It was sweet. Laney had never had a relationship— before Frank— where someone cared about whether she got enough sleep, enough food, enough attention for herself. It was funny, how their pieces fit together, how they gave each other what the other needed most, even when they also drove one another mad.

Once she faced him, sitting in the harbor of his lounge trousers, Laney studied his face, the sportive trace in his tone and in his eyes. “The real question is if you’re up,” she reminded him, adjusting upon her seat as she might a broom before take off. “Feels like you’re halfway there.”

But Marko had other plans. Laney’s face tilted down, eyes following the blank line of her mouth. She looked at the ball and considered. Her fingers instead made a trawl of Frank’s, paying him back for dragging her in. She guided his hand toward the ball. “I’ll help you be a better Chaser.” Like a parent teaching a child. “The throwing bit of their job,” she continued, because it was clear that neither of them were going to leave the chair at the moment. Frank was trapped beneath her, and Laney had not had the benefits of nicotine, caffeine, or her morning snack. She was a giver, in that regard. “Are you ready?” Marko sounded more than ready, still panting at their sides.

Frank couldn’t help the grin that came over his face, thoughts dancing through his head at the idea of attaching a toy to Laney. He had seen some bedroom appropriate ones, where she could be part wolf if she wanted to. Perhaps the next time he was in London, in that seedy area that he blushed about if mentioned in the wrong company, he’d pick her up a little treat. An early Halloween accessory.

If he were completely honest… he’d been waking up since he heard her voice. There was always a mischievous quality to it that tightened his stomach in all the right ways. Add to it the way her hips moved, and the exposed skin, and the feeling of her under his fingertips… Frank was in heaven. Or nearly, if his coffee was filled up again.

He took a slow, steadying breath, focusing on her face, staring into her eyes, trying to calm himself down. “Just halfway? Are you sure about that?” Frank tried to keep his voice steady, but it was hard (pun intended).

Marko was a good distraction. It helped Frank focus away from Laney’s seductive hips and mouth and… everything about her made him hungry right now. “I’m not good enough for you?” Frank thought he chased just fine, when it suited him. He let her lead him through the motions, however, smirking as she elaborated.

His attention was more on Laney, now, even as Marko panted and whined, his butt wiggling in the air with his tail as he hopped around and waited for the ball to be thrown. Frank’s free hand moved away from the nearly empty (and long since cooled) coffee mug that rested on the arm of the chair, finding a familiar spot on her lower back, fingers spreading as he found hold. Frank pushed her hips down as he lifted up, grinding slowly against her. “Show me how you handle the ball, Lorraine.”