#superbism

Sophie is who first comes to mind as the bottle spins– then Michael because it seems that everyone prior to him had gotten his best friend. But the bottle slows and stops on someone unexpected. Now, Terry doesn’t have particularly bad feelings towards Blaise but aside from their dinners with Slughorn and the occasional class– he doesn’t know him as well as he should for being in the same year. Though Terry figured that was the same for everyone. But the thought of kissing him hadn’t crossed his mind not a single time ( but that’s the same for everyone else ) until this moment.

The first, and only, person Terry kissed was Sophie. She seemed to have checked everything off the list before they’d broken up but firsts are firsts for a reason. You learn, you grow and you move the fuck on. Moving on wasn’t so much of a bad idea but he hadn’t thought the slytherin common room and spin the bottle would be how he’d do it. Perhaps he had already drank enough that a new first would be okay– because sober he felt like it wouldn’t be possible.

Terry is the first to lean in because he’s blissfully unaware that kissing Blaise is going to change everything. For someone who loves to learn, he sure missed out on this part. He pushed his hair away from his face and held his baseball hat in his hand, mostly because he knew that Blaise hated them. He remembered at some point that the only practice he had was someone who was just as clueless as he was and for a moment, though dulled by the alcohol, he was nervous. –But he kisses him anyways.

It’s different than what he knew kissing felt like. He expected to feel nothing– absolutely nothing. He wasn’t in love with Blaise like he had been with Sophie and Blaise was a boy. Kissing boys was never out of the question for Terry. He had too many friends who did that plenty enough he’d just never thought he would feel something when kissing a boy. Oh but he did. It wasn’t quite the same but not quite different either. There wasn’t love there but there was something. Terry couldn’t put his finger on the exact feeling but he didn’t hate it. Actually he liked it a lot.

Terry kisses him, one hand on Blaise’s jaw and the other holding the bill of his hat. It isn’t hard but its not soft either; just a little bit deeper than he’d leaned in for and it lasts a beat longer than it needed to. His eyes slowly opened as he pulled away, already deep in thought about what had just happened, and he ran his fingers through his hair before placing the crumpled baseball hat back on his head. The crowd teases him about but Terry doesn’t form an answer but he can’t look Blaise in the eyes and his cheeks weren’t only red from the drinks. And, perhaps, he wouldn’t mind kissing him again.

A break from spin the bottle was, ostensibly, meant to be a good thing; a moment of air, head above water, between the kissing and giggling and staring and whispering. Not to mention that eight of the last ten spins had fallen on Michael. He shudders at the thought, comforted only by the fact that nearly everyone he cared about seeing he’d either already kissed, or was far too fucked to even notice. A good thing.

Somehow, between the spare shots and mingling and not kissing anyone, Michael finds himself roped into truth or dare. This is decidedly less of a good thing. He doesn’t ask, but he gets the feeling this, too, is charmed for the worst possible outcome. Even if it isn’t, not following through surrounded by Slytherins is a sure fire way to find yourself ridiculed into compliance. Michael faces the open group with thinly-veiled distrust, but genuine curiosity.

Truth or dare?

What the hell, he’s feeling brave. The tequila or vodka or whatever he just drank is already running is course on his system, and they don’t call it liquid courage without reason. He stands up taller, puffs his very bare chest out and answers with absolute confidence: Dare.

He sees his mistake in the way Blaise’s face changes, contorts into something that closely resembles a childlike glee, mixed with, of course, the on brand self-satisfaction and righteousness. Honestly, seeing Blaise’s expression is enough of a punishment, but then he goes and opens his damn mouth. Michael’s expression falls flat at his feet. He does what he can to scrape up the pieces, though, and fixes the Slytherins -- this one in particular -- with his best unbothered expression.