Party Games - a ficlet for Somniare Prompt: Dustman’s Knock
A more 'advanced' form of postman’s knock in which more physical content is the norm. In this version a girl or boy is chosen to go hide in a cupboard (or bedroom). Another boy or girl is then chosen by chance (e.g. spinning bottle) or selection by others and goes to the place where the other is waiting. What happens then depends on the rules set but can range from a kiss, or a grope and a fumble to full sex.
Fandom: Lewis Summary: Hathaway is tempted. WARNING: Discussion of underage sex. Fallibly human James.
PLEASE NOTE that the age of sexual consent in Britain is 16, which is 2 years below the drinking age. Some of the people in this fic are under 18 but none are under 16.
With half of Oxfordshire down with the 'flu, everyone had to pitch in as needed - Lewis understood that - however babysitting a bandful of undergraduate-aged airheads who were apparently the latest darlings of the pre-tween set was a bit much! Thank God that Jobson and Kendrick were due on shift in a bit over an hour. He'd left Hathaway on duty at the door as long as he could stand it, but eventually the high-pitched giggles had driven him out into the fresh air. "Your turn, Sergeant!" he said grimly, pointing a thumb back into the hotel suite.
"Yours to command, Sir," Hathaway returned, deadpan. He flicked a butt into the darkness and opened the door. A shrill squeal from within made them both flinch.
"Wish me luck," drifted back to Robbie before the door mercifully closed, leaving him alone with the faint aftertaste of tobacco and the chilly evening breeze.
~ * ~
The air was stale inside the suite, and the eight or so band members and their entourage were gathered in a bored arc around the television. "I Never!" shrieked the blonde with blue streaks in her hair. "Where are the shot glasses?"
Hathaway cleared his throat ostentatiously.
"Oh for..." said the tallest boy. "We're on private property, you know."
"She," said Hathaway, pointing, "and he... and probably him as well...are all underage."
The group rolled its eyes as a collective before the blonde girl spoke again. "Fine. Something that doesn't require drinking then. How about... Dustman's Knock?"
The plumper girl with sparkly pink lipstick who seemed to be the blonde's best friend and hanger-on giggled furiously. She whispered into her friend's ear - clearly something about Hathaway, because two pairs of sparkle-lidded eyes turned as one to assess him from the tip of his shiny shoes to the top of his close-cropped head.
"Dustman's Knock?" blondie asked the group again.
The general mood of the room seemed to be in favour, and Hathaway eased back into a quiet seat to observe. Nothing much seemed to happen except that first one person was chosen to go out of the room - with the blonde girl leading the pack - and then a second person followed. The first person returned a little rumpled and smeared and the pattern repeated. They were having a good time, no-one seemed to be coerced and they weren't breaking any laws. Hathaway wished he'd brought a book.
~ * ~
"Sergeant Hathawhatever," the blond girl announced, to the approval of the rest of the room.
Taken by surprise, James tried not to show it. "I'm on duty," he said calmly. "I'm not here to play games."
"You'd be surprised at how difficult we could make it to do your duty," one of the boys said, smirking. "There's so many of us! And so many potential ways in and out of here..."
James sighed. "What do I have to do?"
Blondie's grin was triumphant. "Turn left at the end of the hall and do whatever the person inside asks you to do. When she leaves, you wait for the next person in and it's your turn to call the shots."
The smile dropped from James' face and she caught his mood. "You can say no if you're too much of a pussy," she said scornfully. "We're just having fun, not committing a crime!"
James glanced at the clock. He'd be off duty soon, anyway. He might as well see what they were up to.
~ * ~
The room was dark when he opened the designated door, but two arms went around his waist and pushed the door closed behind him. "Just stand there and let me do the work," a girl's voice said. Her slightly raspy voice gave James a clue as to what she'd already been doing that night. Before he could quite grasp what was happening she was undoing his belt buckle.
"No, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of hers.
"But I'm in charge!" she pouted. Her free hand reached around to caress his arse and thigh as she continued her mission to undo his pants despite his interference.
"I don't!" James stuttered. "How old are you, even?"
She laughed. "I've been doing this since I was fourteen. But don't worry about it: I'm legal all right. I'm good at it, too." He could feel the touch of her through his shorts, coaxing at him.
"Hathaway! Where are you, man!" Robbie's voice broke like a shock of ice-cold water over the moment.
"Coming, Sir," he called, hastily pulling up his zip and refastening the buckle of his belt. He could hear the girl sigh, but she withdrew her hands reluctantly.
~ * ~
"Right; they're all Jobson and Kendrick's now!" Robbie said with satisfaction as James emerged into the central area again. "Let's go, Sergeant. I reckon I need a beer, don't you?"
Hathaway tried to ignore the teenagers' giggles as he followed his boss out into the night.
He had a hell of a time getting the sparkly pink lipstick out of his shorts, later.