New Years Festivities(TAG: Dean)

Waycca could easily find her way to the Muggle Studies classroom, and she was relieved that she hadn't had too much alcohol at or after the ball; that would have made things a tad more difficult. It didn't seem likey that Dean would have gone to the teachers' party, but if he had she really didn't have a plan B. Maybe watch a movie until she was forced to go back? By the time she arrived at the door her feet were aching and she wished that she had at least changed shoes before leaving Gryffindor Tower. She let herself in, exhausted brain forgetting to knock. Seeing no one in the classroom area, she went straight to the door leading to his living quarters, at least tapping her knuckles against it this time in permission for entry.

Dean was relaxing in a dark leather recliner that was set in front of the fire, he had a cup of coffee on a table next to it. He had been sitting in the quiet waiting for midnight to arrive but it seemed the ball had exhausted him mentally and he was just about to drift off when the light knock jerked him awake.

At first he was confused, then he realized that there was only one person who would be knocking on his door at midnight. He got to his feet, opened the door and ushered Waycca into the room.

"Good evening, professor," she mused, glancing briefly at all the things in the room. She'd never been in here, and found it rather interesting. Her eyes traveled back to him eventually and she smirked, looking him up and down. "I've go to say, tie-wearing Dean looks absolutely ravishing tonight." Or rather this 'morning', as twelve AM was now only minutes away.

Dean looked down at the loosened tie still strung around his neck, "I hate these things," he muttered.

He looked at her as she smirked at him, apparently she had decided not to change out of her dress, which complimented her nicely, but those shoes looked damn painful.

"Not that I disprove of the look, but aren't those shoes painful?"

"Torture is what they are!" Waycca replied, slipping them off and nudging them beside the door with her foot. "Aunt Lauren was all enthusiastic about me actually getting dressed up for something and I didn't want to break it to her that ky feet would have to be amputated after wearing them." She shook her head with a small huff of exasperation.

"But enough footwear talk - how were your holidays?" she asked, eyes bright. Yes, it was definitely the right choice not having too much to drink. Being able to carry on a conversation was one of the perks of sobriety.

"Relaxing," he responded, it seemed she hadn't had much to drink which surprised him a little, "it was good to go home. What about yours?"

He sat down on the closest surface, his recliner, and beconed her closer. This was the first they'd seen of each other since the start of the break and he wanted her closer than she was at that moment.

Waycca wandered toward him, grinning. "It was kind of oksy. Lots of food, sleeping, and family togetherness." She perched on the arm of the recliner, leaning down to peck his nose. "I may have gotten you a present," she murmured, smiling widely. "But I'm kind of broke, so it might be sort of lame."

Dean smirked, "Lame is what you call a three legged dog," he commented leaning into the chair and lacing his fingers with hers.

"And besides, you didn't have to do that," he was flattered that she had thought of him and a little less embarrassed about the parcel that was sitting in the drawer of his bedside table.

Waycca rolled her eyes with a smile as she lightly squeezed his hand. "Har har. Well, I'm afraid I didn't get you a three-legged puppy. Maybe next time."

"It's nothing big, trust me. Probably also, like, the most cliche thing ever, but I couldn't think of anything better, so you get what you get," she said, rather excited to give it to him. She knew he probably wouldn't outright say he hated it even if he did and, besides, she thought there was a good chance of him actually liking it.

Dean grinned and shook his head, "it doesn't matter," he said, "But let's do this whole gift exchange later. I'm perfectly content with you right where you are and besides its almost midnight."

"Mm, ditto." Waycca had rather missed him over the break, and though putting that into words was beyond her social abilities, she w as satisfied to just show him instead.
She cocked her head to the side as if in thought, trying to hold back a smirk as she said, "Hey, isn't there something people traditionally when midnight rolls around on New Years? Pretty sure it starts with a 'C'....maybe a 'Q or even a 'K''?"

Dean smirked up at her, "I'm pretty sure there is, but you may need to get a little closer," she still seemed too far away, despite that fact that she was perched on the armrest next to him.

He tugged light on their joined hands, causing her to slide off the armrest and onto his lap, "Now, this is much better," he commented, releasing her hand and slipping his arm around her waist.

Waycca grinned widely and chuckled, not one bit bothered by her changed position. In fact, she much preferred it. She put her arms loosely around his neck, beaming at him. She heard a grandfather clock somewhere down the hall, faintly announcing the time to anyone who would listen. She stretched her neck lightly - being taller in a time like this would be a blessing - and captured his lips in a tender kiss.

Dean used his free hand to cradle her cheek as they kissed. He could taste the faint burn of alcohol on her lips, impulsively he deepened the kiss and pulled her closer, so that her body was flush against his.

Waycca's fingers twisted through his hair as they kissed and she tightened her grip around his neck. She felt him pull her closer and brushed her legs against his, thrilled at their proximity to each other.

Dean pulled away and ducked his head, placing open mouthed kisses on the thin column of her neck and over her fluttering pulse. The salt of her skin was sharp and tangy on his tongue, and he relished the taste. His hazy mind was pleased to note that her strapless dress made access to her skin that much easier.

A shiver danced through her when she felt his lips on her neck and she had to bite her own lips to keep from making too much noise. She tilted her head, leaving kisses over his temple and face and sliding her hands down from his neck to rest on his chest, tracing patterns on his shirt as her legs continued to twine themselves with his.

He smiled against her skin and gave the flesh on her neck a final, light nip before pulling away. He gave the tip of her nose a light kiss and grinned.

"Happy New Year. Do you want something to drink?"

She beamed up at him, shaking her head in amusement. "Happy New Year," she giggled, fiddling with the end of his loosened tie as she attempted to slow her breathing back to normal. "Well, that depends. What are the options?" She'd already had quite a bit of vodka and firewhiskey tonight, but she was game for anything that would at least taste good.

"Well the usual, water, coffee," he smirked, "But I might have a few beers stashed around here. And there's always the firewhisky."

"You don't even have tea," she whined, sticking out her bottom lip in a faux pout. "I'll have to pass on the drinks proposal then. You've gone and disappointed me with your options and I need time to recover so I don't end up loathing you over it." Besides, she was plenty comfy where she was.

"it's New years and you want tea?" he commented with a bemused chuckle. Though admittedly, he was truly too comfortable to even get up and make drinks. He leaned back and closed his eyes, he was still a littl drained from all the activity of the evening and her body heat was a welcome added comfort.

"I always want tea," she murmured, resting her head on his chest as she continued to mess with tie. "So how was your New Years Ball experience? Bust any hooligans for getting too fresh with their bad selves?"

He chucked, a deep rumble in his chest, "Nope, I couldn't figure out which one of you hoolagins spiked the punch."

"Oh, so that punch was spiked?" She smirked, knowing full well how much was in there and probably even who did it. But tattling was not going to make her friends, was it? "I thought it tasted more like absolute heaven than usual." It had actually been kind of terrible, but just the kick she'd needed to actually enjoy the ball.