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GASP! (ronald)
Title: Practice (Or, five steps to making someone more perfect when they kind of already are.)
Pairing/Rating: Cho/Lily Luna. Very VERY much NC-17
Summary: Cho can't help but turn certain things into exercises.
Warnings: Cross-gen, Lily is underage, there is a lot of fingering and some fisting and some really unlikely physics. (Highlight for spoilers I guess.)
Notes: Dedicated really emphatically to snegurochka_lee and also gyzym. Also wow it has been a long time since I have written something like this. Um.

One: index.

Lily is so. Fucking. Tight.

Cho would think it's impossible, except that she knows what it was like to be sixteen and an athlete and a virgin and too sheltered to have experimented. She knows what it was like to have this lean, hard, aerodynamic body; she knows what it was like to groan at that weird, intimate, invasive sort of pain the first time Cedric finally sweet-talked her into something more than snogging.

Lily's still in her Quidditch kit. Or, half-in. Her shirt's rucked up under her arms and her bra is yanked down so it pushes her breasts up higher, and she's still got her wrist guards and knee guards and awkward shorts on. She wasn't wearing underwear, which Cho didn't find out 'til she had the girl spread-eagled on the muddy grass and already begging for something, anything, she doesn't know what. She's demanding, spoiled, used to getting exactly what she wants. She clearly does not even consider the possibility that Cho might decline.

Cho is singularly shocked, therefore, when after Lily shakes and sobs through an orgasm, tearing the grass up by the roots in her fists, the first words out of the girl's mouth are "What was that?"

Two: middle.

"A little more," Lily demands. It took her less than two days to go from not recognizing her first orgasm to specifying exactly how she would like her private coach to finger her under the bleachers. Mind, that's the only reason Cho can continue this; if Lily were anything less than starving for it, she might think herself a horrible person.

As it is, two fingers couldn't possibly be worse than one. And, as it is, there can't possibly be any harm in making sure that Lily knows exactly where her clitoris is and what it's for. And, hell, if Lily keeps bouncing like that, levering herself up and fucking herself on Cho's fingers, Cho's going to go ahead and count this as the cardio for the day.

Three: ring.

Thing is, Cho really was meant to be someone's coach, someone's teacher. She can't not turn this into an exercise, can't let Lily keep getting rewarded for no improvement at anything. So it's perfectly reasonable for her to have Lily pressed up against a wall, those long legs wrapped around Cho's waist, Cho's hand shoved down between them. And it is also perfectly reasonable for her to make Lily work for it this time.

"Squeeze," she says, in the same voice that she has told Lily to dive, or run faster, or get that fucking hair out of her face if she wants to be able to see a Bludger coming. Lily does, half-heartedly, unforgivably distracted by the fact that she's practically being held up on Cho's fingers, here. "Your thighs, as hard as you can around me," Cho clarifies. "Lift yourself up, fuck yourself, do your own work. I am not doing this for you, you will do this yourself or not at all."

And if Cho's hand is crammed so tight between them that she's red and panting, herself, well, that's hardly the point of the exercise. The point is that when Lily squeezes her thighs, everything clenches, and the girl does have amazing muscle control, Cho will freely admit that. It's part of what makes her trainable.

Four: pinky

Flexibility is important for athletes. Especially Chasers. Cho tells Lily this, then whacks the underside of her thigh, scolding her to lift higher, hook her feet behind her ears if she has to. Lily huffs, which makes her tighter and thus less flexible and Cho smacks her again, light, just a sharp little reminder.

"Breathe into it," she tells her. "It will hurt. It will hurt more when you relax and let it stretch more. Holding your breath won't change that, just make it worse. Accept that this is not going to be comfortable."

"I should tell."

Cho freezes. This is the first time Lily has made this threat, though it has hung over them from the very start. Then, because she knows Lily better than she probably has any right to, she lets out the breath she's been holding and smirks a little.

"You don't want to, though. You just think you should. Like you think you should be stiff and tight right now, right?" Lily scowls, but it is clear she does not disagree. "Relax into it. It'll hurt, but it'll make you better."

And, when Lily finally finally manages to convince her legs and back to go loose and pliant, it allows Cho's knuckles to push past that ring of tight muscle, allows her to slip in and press the joint of her thumb snug up against Lily's clit. Lily promptly forgets to keep breathing, but now Cho doesn't have any problem reminding her.

Five: thumb.

Lily is, yes, absolutely the reason her team lost.

Cho accompanied Harry and Ginny to the game, and firmly ignored Ginny's sneaking sideways looks every time she got too close to Harry. She cheered louder than either of them, and booed herself hoarse each time Hufflepuff got a goal through. She screamed instructions every single time Lily was flying close enough to hear. And when Hufflepuff finally caught the Snitch, Cho let out a genuine scream of dismay that startled Lily's parents badly.

Cho waits outside the locker room, after. Lily's parents have gone home, having instructed her brothers to pass on their greetings, and the rest of the team has slunk out to go use their stock of celebratory Firewhiskey for comfort instead.

"I flew like shit," Lily says, when she spots Cho coming in. She looks impossibly small, still dripping from the shower, half-dressed in trousers and a bra. There are transparent little lines where the water from her hair has soaked through the thin cotton of the bra, and Cho firmly ignores that.

"You did." She won't lie to the girl, not ever. "What did you do wrong?"

"Too tense when I should've relaxed, too lazy when I should've been tight." Lily looks like she thinks this is a bad joke, a prank Cho is playing on her somehow. Cho nods silently, and resists the temptation to step closer, to get Lily out of those damp clothes. "More practice, huh?"

"The real sort, too." Cho's voice sounds a little harsh even to her own ears. This is a dejected teenager, possibly the most fragile creature she'll ever have to deal with. Also probably the most resilient, considering what she's seen others survive at Lily's age. "One match, right now, while you're in school-- really doesn't matter. No one lost money because of you, no one's going to kick you off the team, this is not the real world. This is practice, everything you do at Hogwarts. You've got a year and a half left to practice. Are you going to make the best of it?"

It is Lily who nods, now, and steps forward, and lets her head fall forward to rest on Cho's chest. She makes no other move, does not relax into it for that long moment until Cho finally gives in, threads one hand into her damp hair and ducks to kiss the top of her head. Lily shivers, and all the ways Cho wants to warm her up are not actually helpful, but (thank Merlin) Lily's apparently already thinking the same thing because she's slipping her cold hands up under the hem of Cho's shirt, spidering up her sides so that Cho jerks when she reaches the ribs. It is the first time Lily has touched her, rather than the other way around, and Lily's keeping her head down and pressed against Cho's chest like she can hide from this. Like she needs to. Like she'd be the one to get in trouble.

Only, really, Cho cannot bring herself to care right now if Harry Potter himself has to burst in and tear Lily away from her. She's got her now, more pliant and wanting and willing than she will likely ever be again, and unlike some people Cho does not pretend to be some kind of saint.

When she guides Lily to pull away, strip out of the bra and shove down the denims, it is done without words. This is Cho's only success with the girl, really: Lily knows by now to get naked as fast as possible if she wants those designer jeans to remain unhexed. She hitches one leg up around Cho's hips, and Cho lets herself fall back to lean against the lockers behind her to hold them up as she grabs and hoists Lily by the other thigh. It's not a position she'll be able to hold for long, and she thanks Merlin that Lily's light and strong enough not to make it impossible, but the time constraints of physics don't allow her a lot of leisure for preparation.

Still, Lily does make a really gorgeous little noise when Cho skips straight to four fingers, shoving inside without preamble. It wouldn't work unless Lily's even wetter than usual, anyways, and the noise that the motion makes is just as obscene as the ones Lily's now trying to muffle in the side of Cho's neck.

She's tight, as always, and moreso due to the precarious position that's got her nearly hanging on for dear life, squeezing her knees in at Cho's hips so hard she's trembling from the exertion. Cho imagines it's like riding a broom, like flying against a tempestuous storm, like everything Lily's supposed to have learned to do under her tutelage. More than that, though, Lily's clenching-- not just her thighs, this time, but squeezing around Cho's hand in what has to be an intentional rhythm.

"Pause," Cho tells her, and Lily does, and Cho will never admit how fucking hot that is. She's trembling more, now, and Cho knows neither of them can stay upright for much longer like this. "Relax. Not your legs, just there." She offers no further explanation; Lily should know full well by now what this means.

Her thumb should not slide in as easy as it does; it should not tuck in that neatly and her hand should not get sucked in so smooth. But Cho now suspects that Lily has been practicing on her own-- she releases then tenses again like she's trying to suck her hand in, like she has tried this before and knows it to work.

That, above all things, is what finally gets Cho to groan and let herself slide slowly down the lockers. She cannot possibly maintain any sort of upright position, and cannot bear to remove herself from Lily, so she takes Lily with her, ignoring the scrape of cold steel at her back as she carefully, deliberately sinks to where she's on the cold, clammy cement floor, Lily straddling her and sweaty and panting and still wrapped around her and, ah, clenching. When she speaks again, Cho's voice is hoarse and dark.

"You can make yourself come like this, can't you?" Lily nods silently. She looks drugged, her pupils are huge, her hair ratty from the game. "Do it," Cho says simply, and curls her fingers into a loose fist inside of Lily and hooks her wrist up, the minutest movement, but it makes Lily keen.

Lily barely has to move. She rocks a little, yes, but only enough so that Cho can just feel her swollen clit rubbing on the inside of her wrist; mostly, she seems to be squeezing down as hard as she can and regulating her breath, measuring it out in long stretches of deprivation. She gives no vocal indication when she comes the first two times, just shudders and gasps, then flicks her sweaty hair out of her face and continues. By the third one, Cho is helping, pushing minimally, pressing her knuckles up against that soft flesh. By the fourth time, Lily is actually crying, taking her breaths in great gasping sobs and bearing down on Cho's hand so hard that Cho pulls back, worried that she'll hurt herself. That's the last one she allows, then, reaching up and catching Lily by the back of the neck, stilling her. Lily takes a long time to come down, and it's almost a full minute before she unwinds enough that Cho feels safe pulling her hand out. Lily lets out a broken, desperate noise at that, which is almost enough to convince Cho to flip her over and shove right back in.

Not quite enough, though, and finally Cho gathers Lily close, holds her for a long shaking moment before letting her go. "Go back to the dorms," Cho tells her, her voice still a little ragged from screaming encouragement. She watches the line of Lily's shoulders, the half-swing of her hips as she gathers up her clothes, and the twist of her lips when she pulls those snug jeans back up without bothering to find her panties again. She watches her as she goes, too, her small, ginger steps when the seam of the jeans rubs at her. And Cho catches Lily looking back, just once, before she lets the door fall shut behind her and leaves Cho staring down at her hand, thinking about practice tomorrow.
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