Sunday morning
23rd of October 2011
The Diagon Alley flat of Nicholas Bevans, Virgil Carstairs, and Ariadne Gamp


"Mmphf."

That cat was on her face again.

Nemo rolled over and tried to burrow deeper into the sofa, pulling the blanket further over her head in an attempt to buck off Dante the Fuzzybutt. The white feline was ever-patient and ever-nimble and managed to keep her footing atop the sleepy young witch. This dance had been their shared experience over the previous morning hours as the Diagon Alley flat warmed with new day's light: Nemo ever restless and Dante ever steady.

"Ump."

Another roll-over and Nemo reached a pale arm out of her nest and patted around the table for her wand. Pat pat clink - ash tray of gillyweed.  Pat pat pat crunch - crisps.  Pat pat thunk - wand? Her fingers wiggled it closer but it slipped, rolled off the table and fell into her boot. Nemo sighed and let her arm drop to dangle onto the floor.

She thought sleeping over at Virgil's would allow a nice lie-in, at least more than her up-and-at'm current roommates. She should have listened. Dante, he said, she'll sleep on your face, he'd said. But Virgil had offered, and he had roommates and it was London and there were no vampires.

In a few minutes, she'd dozed off again, a lightly snoring lump with a violin case at her feet and a cat purring on her head.

Nicholas rolled onto his back, careful not to wake Peyton.  The day before had been a long match for his boyfriend without even a victory to show for it.  Two for two so far.  And Nicholas had felt bad for missing the first match but there had been no way to ask for it off.  And no chance of getting it.  Three weeks into the season, and a week into not being a trainee meant he'd been able to get the weekend off. That and luck.

Dinner and an evening of entertaining Peyton now left Nicholas with a hangover.  He kept staring at the ceiling.  He didn't want to wake up the quidditch player, he'd played a four hour match the day before and their after-dinner activities had been plenty physical on top of that.  But he really needed a hangover potion and something to eat.  He laid there for a few more minutes before quietly and slowly rolling out of bed.

He looked at his boxers on the floor, decided it would be a bad idea to bend over and get them at the moment and figured Virgil and Ari were unlikely to be up.  And really, he didn't care and his head hurt to much to bend over.  Well unless Peyton woke up and asked nicely.  He smiled at the thought before tip-toeing to the door and slowly opening it and stepping out into the flat.  He left it open behind him as he walked toward the kitchen.

He glanced at the couch, chuckling at Dante sitting on someone.

"What the—Oi!  Wake up.  Who—"  Nicholas saw the violin case, must mean Virgil was involved with the unexpected guest.  It had only been two weeks since the break in; Nicholas's heart was pounding and the girl was lucky his wand was back in his bedroom.  A warning would have been nice.  Or Virgil could have kept his guest in his room.  Assuming she was Virgil's.  But to be fair, "Ari! Virgil!"  Ow.  He shouldn't have yelled, he thought as his head felt like it was going to implode.

He had gotten up early and pulled on a comfortable hoodie, otherwise content to sit up in bed smoking with his bare legs buried under the crumpled white sheets. His eye mask was pushed up into messy blonde hair. Virgil stared out of the window and down at the alley. Nobody appeared to be awake at this hour on a Sunday: just the odd cat or wix, back late from a night of prowling. Perhaps he would have been one of them if he'd gone to The Closet last night instead of Stardust.

The young wizard tapped his cigarette into a half-empty mug of butterbeer and was just about to take another drag when he heard Nick yelling.

            "Ari! Virgil!"

Oh for Merlin's sake, why couldn't Peyton just fuck Nick hard enough to shut him up for a whole day? Virgil kicked off his duvet, hopping out of bed with clumsy grace.

"What, what is it?" he snapped as he opened his door - cigarette still in mouth and words coming out in an irascible mumble. "Oh," keen blue eyes moved from his unclothed flatmate (eew) to his tiny house guest. "That's just Nemo."

Dante was already roused, probably in the realisation that she wasn't going to get any more sleep with all this commotion. The cat slipped off Nemo's head with a mournful little mreow that had Virgil reaching for her. "She's a friend, crashed here for the night," he said as he pet Dante's head.

Nemo was roused from cozy slumber by a shout. She emerged from blankets only to lay eyes on an upset naked person.

"OH, MY GOD!"

She dove back under the blankets.

"Rude!" came her muffled voice. "Pants!"

"That's just Nemo."

Just Nemo. Sure, okay Virgil. She peeked out but used the blanket to keep her eye-line waist up on the naked person. He was a looker at least, in that carefully scruffled, annoy-your-parents way. Nemo glanced over to Virgil who was also half-clothed.

"Virgil, is this a Naked House? Do you live in Naked House?" she mumbled, still waking up. Leave it to Virgil to casually live in a naked house. Where was the witch? Didn't they live with a witch? Was she a part of this nudist colony?

"Rude! Pants!"

Nicholas looked down and missed Virgil throwing open the door, remembering that he didn't have pants on.  It wasn't his fault there was an unexpected guest on the couch.  "It's just a cock." Nicholas said as he looked between the...Nemo and Virgil.  "It would be nice to get a little warning before gu–"  Had he said Peyton was staying over? "–Strangers stay the night."  It hadn't even been a month yet since they'd been robbed and it was a little shocking to have someone he'd never met in the living room.  At least if Virgil or Ari ran into Peyton they knew him.

He couldn't stop the grin when Nemo asked if it was a naked house.  There was an idea.  That he would never be able to get his flatmates on board with.  But maybe Peyton, on a day when the flatmates were going to be gone.  Nemo certainly had some good ideas.  "Yeah, Virgil.  What do you think?  Drop the pants, let's have a nude day."

            "It's just a cock." Nick clarified, unnecessarily, for the benefit of their startled guest.

"Oh, you shouldn't call yourself that." Virgil clicked his tongue around his cigarette as he moved into the kitchen, opening a cupboard to get out a few enamel mugs - he was out of his room already so they might as well get their Sunday rolling. "I'm making coffee and pancakes," he announced in his morning mumble and ignored Nick's suggestion of giving a warning.

Not that warnings weren't useful but Virgil hadn't been keen on interrupting his flatmate's time with Peyton to give one, and hadn't expected Nick to be up this early anyway.

"We don't live in a naked house," he shot back at Nemo and glanced over his shoulder, laughing slightly, "we live in a people-who-used-to-sleep-in-dormitories-house. I've seen a lot of cocks," his gaze slid over to the one in question. "But perhaps some pants on would be nice for the less inured."

At least three of them, four if he included Peyton, so he could use the monstrously large cafetière. Virgil drew his wand out of his hoodie pocket and turned his attention back to the kitchen counter - hands busy with the business of ground coffee beans and boiling hot water.

Nemo would presumably get used to Nick. Everyone did, eventually. It was one of his redeeming factors. Nude this, arse that, etc.

"Chocolate pancakes? Chocolate oatmeal pancakes?" he spoke over the nude day comment like it was white noise. "Or blueberries?" Virgil glanced at their icebox speculatively. "I think we have blueberries. And raspberries. Raspberry pancakes with bourbon whipped cream. I can do that."

His stomach had taken over his mouth.

Nemo flushed pink and she bit back a grin as the boys casually discussed cocks. She very briefly considered doffing her top, just to show how not scandalized she was, but privately chickened out. She put her barefeet on the floor, and flipped open her old Nokia to check the time. The little screen lit up and sputtered - too much magic. She remembered now, all the wand-waving Virgil had done to get them in last night.

"Ain't you both a couple of Lost Boys," she said with more tolerance than vexation. She might have continued to snip about bare-asses and boys-being-boys, but breakfast. 

She got up from the couch keeping the blanket wrapped around her, and pat-patted barefooted over to the kitchen. 

"Oh my god, that sounds so good. Do eeeeet." Nemo joined Virgil at the kitchen counter and used one hand to poke around in cupboards, looking for the coffee filters. Whatever she could do to speed along caffeine.  Ah, but first.

Nemo dared a glance at the Nakedest One.  "You there, what's your name, again?"

She was sure Virgil had mentioned it, but now she couldn't remember.

"Why does everyone in this house hate sleep?" Peyton groaned to himself as he rolled over in Nicholas' bed. He contemplated trying to get back to sleep but there was nothing to it. He was definitely awake now and despite himself - and the sizable hangover he currently had - he was more than a little curious about what his boyfriend was yelling about.

He threw himself out of bed and groped around for his clothes, his quidditch robes were in a heap in the corner having come over straight after a game but he knew he also had a rucksack with a change of clean clothes around somewhere. Unable to find it, he simply grabbed a pair of briefs that didn't look dirty (were they even his?) and slipped them on. 

Peyton shambled out of the bedroom and made his way into the kitchen taking more than a few moments to take in the scene in front of him. Virgil was awake and apparently making pancakes, there was a young girl that certainly wasn't Ari and Nicholas was naked. What else was new? At least now he knew what all the yelling had been about. He was pretty certain he wasn't the only one that didn't know the little scamp, now asking for Nick's name.

He slipped in behind him using his hands to cover his boyfriend up for the time being, "Oi, that's mine." He chuckled softly against Nick's neck and used his considerable height difference over the fledgling nudist to survey the house guest, "Mornin."

"How many cocks have you seen?" Nicholas asked Virgil more innocently than most would be able to manage while standing in the middle of the room without a stitch on.  "Was Slytherin a nudist house?  Almost makes up for everything else about you lot."  No amount of nudity would have made him want to be a Slytherin, but maybe certainly a visit wouldn't have been too much to ask for.

Pancakes were definitely apology enough for the stranger in the living room.  "Extra bourbon for mine,"  he said when Virgil decided on a flavor.

"You there, what's your name, again?"

He started to answer when a familiar body pressed up behind him and hands came down to cover him.  He grinned and let himself be covered.

"Oi, that's mine."

Goosebumps raised on Nicholas's skin as Peyton laughed against his neck. "Nicholas," he said answering Nemo's question.  "And this is Peyton," he tilted his head slightly to indicate the only other person in the room she wouldn't know.  He leaned back into his boyfriend, "Who's not going to be covering much much longer with his hands down there.  Are we sure we're not having a nude day?"

            "Was Slytherin a nudist house?"

Virgil smiled to himself as he carefully pushed down on the cafetière filter so that they'd finally have a nice hot pot of coffee to go around. Nobody had gone running to the lavatories to change in and out of clothes in Slytherin so he hadn't thought much about it at the time - but then again, he had never been as sexually excitable as Nick. Sex had been more of a social and recreational imperative. At any rate, the query went unanswered.

He flicked his wand instead, sending coffee around with enamels mugs for the others to help themselves.

"Good morning Peyton," his greeting was quiet and he spared the couple a fond glance - Virgil had come to quite like Peyton, he was practically vibrant. "And no, we're not having a nude day. You're welcome to after I leave for tea." Virgil's attention returned to the counter, where another charm was cast to assemble pancake batter.

It was Sunday, he'd promised afternoon tea to Yavin. But for now he was enjoying Nemo's initiation to the flat. Eggs were cracked, bottles of milk poured, bourbon brought out.

"Welcome to the mad house, Nemo!" he announced, using her name for Peyton's benefit. "And I'm not a Lost Boy. Only Abby can call me that. I'm Peter Pan to this motley crew. What do you lot want with your pancakes, besides cream?"

Nemo turned around and leaned against the counter, watching drolly as yet another naked man appeared. Peyton. She smiled politely. The funniest things happened to her. The three boys carried on their familiar patter - snippy though they seemed, Nemo could see they were close. They'd grown up together, hadn't they? Nemo used to have friends like that, but she'd chosen to let them go to come to London. She didn't regret it, but she missed that ease. (Although, she and her friends had dealt in considerably less nudity.)

She caught a mug of coffee and dumped in loads of sugar and milk, then found a chair at the table. Nemo shrugged the blanket off her shoulders; she was clothed, still in what she'd worn the night before. The same serious black ensemble she'd worn hoping to impress vampires. Her poncho, boots, hat, bag, and violin were all strewn at her nest on the couch, so it was bare arms in a black tank.

Nemo very nearly responded 'unicorn blood' when Virgil asked about additional pancake garnishes but quickly opted not to ostracize herself. Instead, "I was promised raspberries."

She absently pushed around a tidy stack of papers on the table.  There was a pamphlet from the Ministry of Magic. She slid it towards herself to have a peek.

Practical Protective Spells for a Healthy Home

A simple lock and spell will only deter half-hearted ne'er-do-wells. If you want to stymie the most committed of criminals, a well-kept set of protective enchantments are a must. Your priceless possessions and peace of mind (not to mention live, limb, or liver) could be at stake! So in only nineteen easy-to-cast steps you can make home sweet home an impregnable fortress of comfort and serenity. Every moment of delay only ...

Nemo made a face and pushed it away. She'd thought Diagon Alley would be one of the safer addresses, but maybe not.

She looked around for the cat. Nemo put her hand down towards the floor and made a little clicking noise, hoping to attract the beastie's attention. Gaze under the table and among legs, she said following along in Neverland, "I always liked Tinkerbell. Tiny, vengeful, salt for days."

Peyton had nodded his greeting back to Virgil and let him know how he liked his pancakes, which was pretty plain - He was more of a bacon and eggs sort of guy for breakfast anyway - before turning back to his boyfriend. He smirked as Nicholas had introduced him and hinted towards his hands not providing much cover for much longer.

"If you were wearing pants, we wouldn't have to worry about where my hands were."

Nick had always been more . . . Open? Free? Liberated? Loose? Than Peyton had been. Then again the Quidditch player had been nearly grown when he even figured out his orientation. Not to mention his first boyfriend had been a long distance thing, with a Muggle at that. He wasn't really used to be so exposed to strangers. He also knew that Nick's gate swung both ways and while jealousy wasn't exactly an emotion he was familiar with, he also didn't want his boyfriend offering up the full menu.

Unsure of whether or not he could convince the former Gryffindor to get dressed, he gave another kiss on the neck before untangling himself. He passed by the sink, washing his hands before sitting down for food. Easily finding himself engaging in the current topic of conversation.

"I've always been partial to the Pirates myself. Men with beards." He gave a sly smile to show exactly what he thought of that prospect.

"Spoilsports, all of you."  Nicholas said with feigned disappointment as his boyfriend abandoned him for the kitchen and Nicholas headed to his room to grab pants and a vest.  It only took him a moment to throw the clothes on and he was back in the kitchen when Peyton explained his interest in men with beards.

Nicholas could see the appeal, but if Peyton was hoping for a beard to magically appear on his face...well he could make a temporary one magically appear but anything that he grew was patchy at best.  Not that that stopped either one of them from having a nice beard burn after an intense makeout session.

"Pirate I can do," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.  "A beard is more difficult."

He sat down and put his feet up in Peyton's lap.  "Personally, I always fancied Peter Pan.  And Tiger Lilly."

Virgil chatted easily enough with the other three, although his mind was chiefly on the business of casting charms for the making of pancakes - he used them to mix the ingredients and better but preferred to cook them by hand because it would fill their flat with delicious smells. An added layer to the fragrance of gillyweed, cat fur and coffee.

He glanced over his shoulder to shoot a smile at Peyton has he fetched the raspberries from the icebox.

"I do like a healthy scruff," the Unspeakable admitted and tried not to think of Ceph's enticing jawline. "I don't think I ever fancied anyone in the book. Even Peter was menacing," he shrugged, spooning dollops of whipped cream on to the growing stacks of pancakes.

Onstage, of course, he had been convincingly smitten with Wendy Darling. How he had loved saying her surame: DAR-ling.

"Here we are!" Virgil twisted his wand sweetly, sending three plates towards the tiny dining table by their balcony. "It's not a Neverland breakfast but who wants smocked haddock in the morning anyway?"

He brought his own plate and a bowl of fresh raspberries, which he set down in the centre for everyone to help themselves. "Do you two have plans today?" a glance at the lovers, before looking back to Nemo. "I have afternoon tea out, if you want to join me. Might be one adventure too many for you."

Nemo happily helped herself to the fresh, hot breakfast. It was a well-kept secret that pancakes were essentially an excuse to eat dessert before noon. She deftly tied her shaggy blond hair into a high pony tail before tucking in - little worse than syrup in your hair, or vice versa.

Now that everyone was a bit more covered, Nemo had settled into a familiar ease with a table of mostly strangers. Although once you've seen a dude's willy on a Sunday morning, how strange were they now? She tuned in to Virgil's inquiry into the boys' plans and her smile danced with mischief, thinking she could guess what the love birds might like to do on the rest of their weekend.

She drank deep from her coffee and glanced at Virgil as he offered a polite invitation. Tea, huh?

"Shan't keep me from it, I'm well chuffed for a lovely tea," she tweeted, amused that anything known as 'afternoon tea' could ever rate more than lukewarm on the adventure scale. "Whatever shall we wear?"