Danza Kuduro

Hidden Corridor
Durmstrang
Year 6

Brock slammed the girl - She had an A name... Amy? Amber? - up against the wall, his mouth working against hers as she quivered against him. The girl was older, a seventh year, long legs, Amazonian almost. Quite the catch. He was far from regretting brushing off a meeting with one of his friends - he couldn't remember which right now, but it'd probably come back to him when he apologized - as her impossibly long legs wrapped their way around his waist.

"Veni..." Angel whined breathlessly as his lips wandered down to her neck. "N-Nous ne devrions pas...." Her breathing hitched and he chuckled darkly, trailing his lips up and along her jawline. He just loved French women. The way they said his name in those little accents of theirs... you just had to appreciate the exchange program between the schools. Really. "...Pas ici..." Her last word was cut off by a moan as he found her spot - the one each and every girl had that turned them to putty in his hands. His lips and tongue attacked that spot until she - Annabelle maybe? - was tugging him closer to her and begging for it.

He'd never been one to deny a lady of her wishes.

Spoiler:

Kallie was fuming. Simply fuming. It wasn't a rational response all things considered. After all, it was Brock. What had she expected? He always said one thing and then did the other. He had blown her off countless times before.

So why the hell did she care so much more this time?

Shoes clicking against the ground, the girl stomped down the corridor set on finding her friend, and thinking she knew exactly where he would be.

"Flippendo," she had her wand out and the spell sent at the boy before she could even really see who it was clearly. But she didn't really need to know that. Even if she hadn't heard the french girl say that stupid nickname.

"No, you really shouldn't," her voice rung out - flat and nutrual, not an emotion in it - behind her spell, "Not here... perferably not anywhere."

Her cold glower cut to Brock before going back to the girl. "Since you're obviously from ... out of town... I'll let you with one warning. And to make sure its really clear... I'll tell it to you in french."

She raised one arched eyebrow at the girl.

"Gardez vos mains putain hors de lui." Her french was a little stiff, the pronouncation rather schooled insteady of flowing like a natural speaker, but the words still meant the same thing. she tilted her head slightly, and gave a little smile, "Because you want to know why? Of course you do - Lorsque tu es parti, je serai toujours là."

She hadn't been entirely sure where the last part had come from, but the surprise at the words flowling out of her mouth, in another language no less never appeared on her face.

"Now that we've got that cleared up, as the school's prefect I'm going to kindly ask you to run along - before I have to force you to do it myself. And trust me, you won't like it if that happens."

She gave the girl's shoulder a less then gentle shove to help her on her way, her gaze never wavering as she watched her disspear, her face remaining impassive even as she sent little glares back at her. Kallie didn't care. Hell, she bet Brock didn't even care.

"If you can tell me her name," Kallie said, not turning back to look at the boy, "I may consider not taking points away from you."

Spoiler:

Brock had heard the clicking of her shoes - he knew that click - and growled lowly, causing the girl against him - Alexandra, probably - to tremble and moan out his nickname again. She - Alexa - was obviously oblivious to the girl approaching them, but Brock had tensed in anticipation. The older girl - Alexis - was moving in ways that were dangerously distracting, and his lips found hers once more, before he was yanked away from his beautiful Amanda magically.

He landed on his feet a few feet from Anne and sighed, leaning against the wall and shoving his hands in his pockets. He watched them both turn feisty - he appreciated a feisty girl fight any time, really, but he knew Kallie would be no fun, and he couldn't speak french - and smirked, wrapping his arms around Alejandra's waist as she came to give him a parting kiss.

He watched her go with barely suppressed appreciation at the way Amy's hips swayed.

"I was using that, you know, Nikki." He said with a pout. He blinked at her request, his eyes going to Alyssa's retreating figure. "Her name?" He asked, grinning nervously. "Of... Of course I know her name, what kind of guy do you think I am?" His eyes returned to try and see Antonette's retreating figure, but she was long gone. "Her name is..." Athena. No Aphrodite. No no no, it was something french. Something... "Anastasia, of course."

"Well now you're not," was her simple response to her whinnning.

She closed her eyes as she heard him stale. He had no idea. A grim smirk appeared on her face. She had been right, as always.

She let a breath out of her nose shaking her head, "Try Blanche, idiootti."

Kallie finally turned around to look at him; her brown eyes almost darkening to black with the level of her glare.

"Next time you make out with a girl," she said slowly, tossing the gold trinket she had taken from the girls neck. Blanche, in swirling letters blinked up clearly. She wasn't entirly proud of it, and she'd give it back later, but she wanted to make a point. "Why don't you look at something else besides her perse."

"I just want to figure out something - so will you be a dear and answer me one more question," the girl wasn't even sure where she was going with this but.... "What's my name?"

"Blanche?" He asked blankly, catching the trinket with more instinct than anything. He glanced down at it. "That... is probably her last name." He said weakly. "I am almost positive her name started with an..."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I know your name, Volchonka. What kind of question is that? I've known you for ages, Nikki." His eyes narrowed as he noticed just how serious she was. "Kallie." He said, without any further hesitation. "Kallie Nikkala." He cocked his head to the side. "What? You think I forgot who you are or something?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Born in Finland on August 21st, Half blood." He looked down at the ground and kicked it with the scruff of his shoe. "Favorite color's royal blue, Favorite meal is breakfast, Favorite fruit is strawberries -especially with chocolate - Hypoglycemic, workiholic, party-a-phobe..."

"Tell yourself whatever makes you feel better," she shrugged. "Maybe you're confusing her with some other long legged french whore you had back here."

She blinked as he spoke, listing... well everything about her. Well maybe not everything but...

"See - why can you remember all that about me and yet you never; but you can't remember her god damn name but-" she flailed throwing her hands in the air, and turned on her heals to go, "You know, what, don't care, never mind."

She only got a few steps away however, before she stopped agian. She didn't understand what she was about to do. There was no logic to it at all, and Kallie never did anything without logic, but...

"hittoon."

Before she kenw what she was doing she had closed the space again and more or less dragged him towards her locking her lips on his. She couldn't say she entirley knew what she was doing, but she figured, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, that she'd figure it out, just like with anything else.

"I-" He bit back his retort as she continued talking, watching her warily. "Kal-"

He almost moved to go after her, but there was no reason... no way that he could... She'd just get Angrier. He wasn't even sure what he did. She'd ended it the last time not-

Then her lips were against his and everything was gone. He was only slightly aware of his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her against him, his other hand burying into her hair, tilting her head back to plunder her mouth more successfully. The kiss deepened, heated, burned and scorched its way through his entire being - the way only her kisses ever had. He leaned further into her, quite content to just go snogging her forever, heedless of the fact that she had been angry at him moments before. She was always angry at him, after all. His tongue slowly brushed against hers, asking for permission before going forward, begging for it.

Kallie closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss, tightening her grip to pull herself closer, trying to meld herself with him.

She sighed against her lips, pushing up on her toes to increase her height, pull herself closer, moving her body against him as a result. This was...

Reluctantly she pulled herself back, lingering slightly as she did so.

"I'm the only one you get to kiss. Got that, idiootti?"

Brock couldn't help the whine that flew from his throat as she pulled away. His arms kept her against him, and his eyes had latched back onto her lips. "mmm...?" He purred slightly, his fingers lightly tracing down her spine. "That sounds a lot like a preposition, Nikki." He teased huskily. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

His lips found her jawline and traced along the familiar shape, as they had many times before. "Are you mine again, Volchonka?" He breathed, his breath whispering over her skin as he took her earlobe between his teeth and tugged gently. His mouth slowly made its way down to her sensitive spot. He paused just above it, his lips quivering. He wanted to hear her say it.

Kallie shivered at his touch, the motion coming through her body without her permission, no way to control it.

She closed her brown eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to control herself. She hadn't meant to, not... she just wanted...

"Br-Brock," her voice shook, coming off in almost a moan as his teeth tugged at her ears. Lord, this boy needed to just....

She knew his lips weren't touching her at all, but they were so close, his breath just... it was as if she could - worse than if she could, if should then... but now...

"Honestly," she managed to breath, not daring to move for fear of pulling him closer... or perhaps it was fear of pulling him father way. "When was I ever not?"

"Ye-es, Kallie?" He purred softly, a smirk tugging at his lips as his arms pulled her impossibly closer. He licked his lips slowly, his tongue just barely brushing her skin.

Her declaration sent a jolt through his body. His mouth descended to attack her spot, his hold on her tightening almost painfully. Some odd warmish fluttery feeling was happening around his torso - it was starting to freak him out a little, to be honest - as her words sunk into his mind. Then he was pinning her against the wall, one of his hands trailing down her side before wrapping around her bare thigh and hoisting it to his hip, his mouth attacking hers once more.

It was probably a good thing the boys grip tightened upon her, for the second his lips met her skin her muscles seemed to melt, she folded in on him, her own grip tightening in hopes to keep herself upright.

She didn't put up a protest as her leg was lifted up, and in fact decided to help him along, picking up the other leg wrapping it around him and completely ignoring the fact that she was now exactly where the french girl who pissed her off so much was. It was funny how many things she could forget when she was...

She let out a soft noise in the back of her throat as she pushed herself off against the wall, closer against him, locking her lips with his, wrestling, tangling, intertwining the two of them. She suddenly wanted to be close, oh so close.

Brock moaned softly, incapable of forming a thought that was more than her name. His fingers disappeared underneath her shirt, even as his mouth continued to ravish hers. His hips bucked against hers once - roughly - as his fingers tempted and teased. He wanted her. Lord how he wanted her.

A low whine started in the back of his throat as her body brushed against his. She wasn't close enough. She could never be close enough. Her scent was starting to drive his wolf mad. He took deep breaths through his nose, trying without prevail to work through it, but it was- she was- just-

He growled, and then her shirt was gone - torn or taken off, he couldn't remember - and his mouth descended to tease, tempt, and taste her there.

"Veni, avez-vous vu mon-?" The French girl - Blanche or whatever - paused, her face falling into a small pout. "ô combien le puissant ont chuté." she stated dryly as Brock moved to shield Kallie with his body - something he'd never extend the courtesy to do for anyone else. The french girl bent over, quite elaborately, to pick her necklace off the floor from where Brock had dropped it, flipping her hair over her shoulder when she stood again. It was quite impressive, had Brock been paying more attention to the girl in front of him. However, he only fully focused on her when she had sauntered up to him and taken his jaw in her hand, caressing his hypersensitive skin. He couldn't help it, he shivered at her touch, which only encouraged the girl to lean forward and whisper in his ear, just loud enough for Kallie to hear.

"Vous savez où me trouver quand vous arrivez ... ennuyé." And with that she was gone. Brock let a breath out on a sigh and turned back to Kallie, pressing a soft, undemanding kiss against her lips.

"Uhm... What did she say?" He asked curiously, having a slight idea, but not wanting to jump to conclusions. Besides, he only knew pick up lines in French. That probably wouldn't help the situation at all.

Spoiler:

The practical part of her brain which ruled superior all of Kallie's life had all but died in the face of this entirely... well physical... past time.

"Brock," her voice shook slightly as she tried to surpress another sigh, the sound threatening to tear itself from her through no matter what she did. She would later claim that she had started that to tell him to stop, to tell him to...

But it had honestly been a lost cause before the shirt was gone; once it was... an act she couldn't be certain she knew how it happened. She knew it had been there, then the next it wasn't, and he was...

"hyvä jumala," she groaned, unable to stop the sound from escaping her this time, pushing herself all the more closer as she went. Her train of thought quickly jumping from the boy in against her, and just what would be the problem if a few more articles of clothing were gone.

Before she could act on this thought however, Blanche had returned. Kallie snapped back to reality as quickly as a sleeper awoken from a nightmare. The edges of her reality were still fuzzy, but the important bits, Brock, the other girl... her shirt... were all in focus.

Her expression quickly slipped into the nutral mask she wore on most occations, with most people. Keeping all her emotions safly hidden from the world, even at times from herself. Instead she merely made a move to cover herself, using her arms after a quick glance for her shirt proved to be futile, and watched the girl with even eyes. The only note of her changing emotions was the slightest clenching of her jaw as she approached Brock ... that shiver nearly provoking her to cast spells, but she did not wish for either of them to know that it bothered her.

She let out a long breath through her nose, and allowed her jaw to relax ever so slightly as he kissed her again, though she couldn't let the taunting little voice out of her head.

"Oh," she sighed, squirming slightly to get a better veiw of where her shirt might have landed, wishing to be properly clothed once more. "You know, merely reminding you that your options were still open, when you were done with the stick in the mud."

"Hmm..." Brock said noncommittally, moving closer to her. "It's a shame I see no stick in the mud." His arms wrapped around her, and his mouth traced her jawline once more. He pressed another soft kiss against her lips, then another, then another, pausing each time a hairsbreadth away to lick his lips before kissing her again.

Kallie just managed to snag her shirt off the ground again, before he had wrapped his arms around her once more, more or less starting what he had been interupted from.

Her lips turned upward slightly, as she sighed against his lips. Her resolve was weakening again, but she had gotten enough of it back with the interuption, that she managed to pull herself away slightly.

"Brock," she breated softly, nuzzling into him slightly, "You know we shouldn't - we should probably go."

Brock whined, but listened, pulling away from her slightly. He pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips before pulling away again, his eyes still watching her.

"I missed you." He said simply, his arm winding around her waist after she'd put on her shirt again. "And you look much better without that, if I do say so myself." He winked at her, a satisfied grin flitting over his face as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "I missed you." He repeated softly.

Kallie slipped her shirt back on, doing up the front buttons quickly, rather surprised that none of them had been broken... this time.

She smiled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, only to snort and roll his eyes at his next comment, "I didn't think its a sight you wanted to share with the rest of the school."

"I missed you too," her smiled softened again at his next words. "Come on, Pentu. Lets go - I'm sure you're probably late for something."