This thread is marked 'mature' for sexual innuendo/implication.

Ramsay stumbled in through the front door of her flat, giggling drunkenly as she came to a standstill, a swarthy young Pakistani gentleman pushing the door shut behind her. Without warning, he pulled her into a very passionate kiss—one that suggested more heat than love... but that's what Ramsay preferred, anyway.

Locking the door with a swish of her wand (which she jammed onto the kitchenette's counter top as they passed by), Ramsay and her bed companion for the night staggered towards her bedroom. It was clear that she was attempting some modicum of discreet quietness, but was so intoxicated that she could not quite manage it.

The door to her bedroom slammed shut and, in no time at all, very delighted sounds—squeals, the occasional choked moan, and the squeak of bed springs—began to emanate from her room, easily audible throughout the apartment.

It was late when Ramsay got home, but not so late that Kira was asleep. She was sat on her bed, reading over a manuscript, when she heard the door open, and almost got up to greet her housemate - before she heard another set of footsteps. Oh. Ramsay had brought somebody home. She knew it would happen eventually, but hadn't expected it so soon after having moved in. Oh well.

She shrugged to herself, returning to the manuscript she was going over, but found before long that her focus kept straying. It didn't bother her, exactly, that Ramsay was obviously having fairly loud, presumably enjoyable sex with a stranger in the next room... Well, maybe it bothered her a little bit. But that was just because of the noise. It was distracting.

Once again attempting to return to her work, Kira made it through a full two pages before a particularly throaty moan broke her concentration. She was tempted to go knock on the door to Ramsay's room and ask the two of them to keep it down, but that would mean seeing... She blushed at the unfinished thought. No, better to just ignore them.

Ramsay grunted in the other room, and the bed springs ceased their relentless squeaking for several moments—before she began to giggle furiously, and her partner's deep laugh carried across the apartment.

"You're the worst," Ramsay admonished... but, shortly thereafter, the bed springs resumed their noisiness.

Kira's roommate continued to make all manner of impolite, inappropriate noises—and it seemed, too, that the alcohol had loosened her tongue, as she was saying very crass and vulgar things to egg her partner on. Size-based compliments, naughty demands, the works. The dirty talk seemed to serve its purpose, as the man's grunts grew louder—alongside Ramsay's own noises—and the bed sounded for all the world like it might collapse beneath them.

Kira tried to ignore the sounds coming from Ramsay's room - really, she did. But then Ramsay just had to go and start talking. Which wouldn't be a problem, normally, but the things she was saying.... Kira set the manuscript aside, drawing her knees up to her chest and burying her blushing face in her hands. She tried to recite the alphabet backwards, forwards, backwards again; did her times tables up to twelve times twelve equals one hundred forty four.

But minds will wander, especially presented with appropriate material. Or, in this case, inappropriate material. Kira tried her hardest not to listen to her best friend's grunts and groans and foul, foul words. It was just sex, she told herself, it was just Augusta Ramsay, whom she'd known and idolized all her life, having apparently very good sex just a few feet away from her. Yeah, this train of thought was not helping. With anything.

It didn't help that in the week since she'd moved in, she'd been thinking of Ramsay differently. Where before the Auror had been best friend, babysitter, big sister, now she was... Well. She was grown up, and so was Kira, and the younger girl couldn't help looking at Ramsay with different eyes. And what those eyes saw was a remarkably attractive young woman. Not to mention, living in such close quarters had led to several instances of one seeing the other in various states of undress, so Kira had a pretty good idea of what Ramsay looked like in her underclothes.

Kira groaned, flopping back onto her bed. This was going to be a long night.

With one final, deafening shriek, Ramsay and her lover were silent. The flat grew uncomfortable and thick with noiselesness; no cries of ecstasy, no moans, no encouragements, no creaking beds.

Heavy footfalls came next, the quiet swish of clothing, and the opening of Ramsay's bedroom door. Silent, lighter steps followed the first set, and the quiet squish of a kiss broke the silence.

"Bye," Ramsay murmured simply, and the front door open and shut.

There was a brief moment of indecision, in which no signs of movement were audible. Then, Ramsay's light footsteps neared Kira's door, and her knuckles rapped gently on the frame.

"Kira? Sweetie?" she called out, then paused.

"Are you still up?" Ramsay asked quietly.

Kira flinched at Ramsay's cry of pleasure, but lay still as she heard the noises of her roommate's bedmate leaving. She jumped at the knock on her door, straightening up and trying to look presentable.

"Yeah, I'm awake," she replied, picking up the discarded manuscript in an attempt to look like she was doing something other than listen to Ramsay have sex. She crossed to the door, opening it and gesturing for Ramsay to come in.

"What's up?" She had a guess, but she was going to play innocent and unaware unless Ramsay brought it up herself.

Ramsay sighed as Kira confirmed that she was awake. She had hoped that her roommate had been asleep and unbothered by Ramsay's tryst, but... alas.

Kira opened the door and Ramsay clutched one of her arms with the other, smiling sheepishly. She entered Kira's bedroom—cute, decorated to her taste already—and took a seat on her bed, pulling legs up into her lap. She was (as Kira seemed yet to have notice) nude, save for a set of underwear; she hadn't bothered to pull anything else back on as she ushered her gentleman caller out of her flat.

"I'm sorry about—er—a moment ago," Ramsay began, flustered. "I'm... well, I'm rather tipsy, and I got so caught up in... my friend... I sort of forgot we weren't alone. I—I hope I wasn't keeping you up, or—or anything."

Ramsay's cheeks had flushed, now, and she peered hopefully at her roommate, looking guilty. Her hand wandered, scratching at the ribs just beneath her breast for a moment.

Kira hadn't really looked at Ramsay as she ushered her into the room, but as Ramsay sat down on Kira's bed, she noticed the Auror's attire... or lack thereof. She could feel a blush creeping up her neck, trying very very hard to keep her eyes focused on Ramsay's face and not her bare chest or long legs or anything else that could make this more awkward.

"I-it's okay," she stammered, perching awkwardly on the bed next to Ramsay, "I was up working anyway." She gestured vaguely at the manuscript before putting it on the nightstand.

"It sounded like you were, er, enjoying yourselves, at least...?" How did one make small talk in this situation? Kira was drawing a blank.  She looked back at Ramsay - face, face, face - and saw the guilt in her eyes. A small movement caught her attention before she could speak, and of their own accord her eyes flicked down to see Ramsay's hand resting just below -- yep, back to the face.

"It's fine, really," she finished lamely, sure her entire face was on fire by this point.

Ramsay was, for her part, blissfully unaware of Kira's own discomfort.

"I'm glad you weren't trying to sleep," she murmured, twisting and draping her arms around Kira's shoulders in a loose hug, resting her temple on her roommate's shoulder. Her bare chest was, unfortunately, pressing against Kira's arm.

At the suggestion that she had enjoyed herself, Ramsay giggled and blushed, nodding gently into Kira's shoulder.

"We were... he was—well, um—rather talented. No sense keeping him around once we're done, though; served his purpose, and all that."

At last, though, the older woman sensed her friend's tension. She pulled herself away from Kira and reached down to take her hand.

"Are you okay? You seem... wound up, a little."

Kira patted Ramsay's head awkwardly, trying to ignore the feeling of skin on skin. She forced herself to relax - this is Augusta, you've known her all your life, this shouldn't be weird - and even managed to rest her head against her friend's. Deep breaths, Kira, deep breaths.

She was glad Ramsay didn't give any more detail on the goings-on of the night, her imagination doing its job far too well as it was. She startled a little when she pulled away, looking down when Ramsay took her hand in an attempt to hide her blush.

"I-- um, I'm fine, it's just -- er, um... you're very..." she gestured at Ramsay with her free hand, "...very." When had she become so tongue-tied? Usually words were her forte.

"Very... ?" Ramsay asked, looking slightly perplexed... before glancing down at her own mostly-nakedness, and then giggled.

"Oh! I'm sorry—I didn't even think about whether or not you'd be comfortable with this, love. We've just known each other so long... you know, I can still remember giving you a bath when you were five or six. You had the cutest little rear-end, and you loved it when I blew raspberries on your tummy after bath time."

Ramsay smiled at Kira fondly, and overwhelming sense of nostalgic affection overtaking her for just a moment.

She leaned forward, placing her right hand on Kira's far cheek and planting a lengthy, loving kiss on the girl's cheek. After several moments, Ramsay pulled away, running her thumb across the younger girl's cheek for just a moment before standing up.

"I'll let you finish your work, love... I'm pretty exhausted. Gonna catch some shut eye. I'll see you at breakfast."

And with that, she was gone, returned to her room to sleep.

Oh Merlin. This was worse than baby pictures. Kira hid her face, which was now flushed scarlet, in her hands, glad nobody else was around to hear this.

But then her face was extracted from her hands, and she caught her breath when Ramsay's lips met her cheek - why? They'd done this countless times before! Why was it weird now? Kira shivered as Ramsay pulled away, nodding quietly as she left.

She looked over at the manuscript on her desk, fingers brushing her cheek, then back to her bed - and collapsed with a huff. She'd finish the edits in the morning. She had too much on her mind to focus, now, anyways.