id
stringlengths 4
8
| title
stringlengths 0
255
| metadata
dict | text
stringlengths 0
12.6M
|
|---|---|---|---|
57635
|
Hearts Desire
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Angel: the Series",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by glacis",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-01-30T00:00:00",
"words": "7,011",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Angel/Lindsey McDonald",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Heart's Desire, a Lindsey story. Possible spoilers for all episodes concerning Wolfram & Hart, definite spoilers for To Shansu in LA.
Lindsey McDonald was adept at appearing to look at things without ever allowing the details to go further than his corneas. In cases like this, it helped.His slight, frail, big-eyed defendant looked like a strong puff of wind would blow her away. She certainly didn't look like the type of monster capable of eviscerating four men, tying a fifth one in their small intestines and strangling him with the knotted length of their colons. It was almost artistic, the way the corpses had been arranged, if one discounted the sheer gruesome facts of blood and ripped skin, discarded internal organs and gaping body cavities. The murderer, with a true eye for detail, had arranged the four gutted corpses in a three-dimensional box around the fifth, almost an altar to the picture of terror on the fifth corpse's blue-tinged face. The bulging blue eyes looked almost surprised.They certainly didn't look peaceful.So Lindsey did what he did best. He danced around the evidence; cast shadows of doubt on time, place, and memory; shone a spotlight on the obvious absurdity of his client being in any way, shape or form connected to such horrible happenings.As had become the norm since he'd returned to the fold, with a great deal of apparently effortless damned hard work on his part, the jury bought it. Hook, line and sinker. He sometimes wondered if his soaring success rate in court work was some sort of strange karmic compensation for losing his hand to that bastard Angel on the night of the Raising.Not that that had done a hell of a lot of good. Two weeks after finally coaxing Angel's sire out of her crate, after nearly four months of talking her into a fine little revenge scenario, the stupid bitch managed to get herself staked. By Wesley. It was disgusting.Happily, he hadn't had any part in that particular fiasco. Lila was still in deep shit for it. He himself had been called away, luckily, to help bolster the case against one of Wolfram and Hart's most useful tools. He smiled down at that tool. Big dark eyes smiled back at him. While he managed to keep the smile plastered on his face, he couldn't do a damned thing about the shiver that ran down his spine.God. Not another one. Not another murderess with the hots for him. Vanessa Brewer had been bad enough, but freak that she'd been, she'd at least been human. Using a loose definition of the word. This one, while she looked like a dead ringer for a living Ophelia, was pure one hundred per cent demon.He extended his hand to assist her from her chair, the picture of the gentleman lawyer assisting his vindicated but still greatly maligned delicate flower of a client. Her fingers curled around his hand and he bit back a gasp. Her skin burned his. She continued to hold his fingers clasped between her palms as they walked from the courtroom. He lowered his shoulder, angling his body in front of hers and successfully blocking everyone from getting a good clear photograph of her.It was always better to keep as clean a record as possible. All sorts of records. All sorts of clean.He tried to disengage her grip at the curb, but she pulled him into the back of the Lexus with her. He felt his smile slip. "Fresla? Uhm, it's okay now, you can let go." He put as much reassurance as he could into his voice.She laughed. Softly. His skin crawled an inch closer to his body. Even his hair tried to pull away from her, curl in on itself. The smile disappeared completely."They would have given me the death penalty," she told him, as if he didn't know. Her voice was low and husky, and he was grateful all over again that she hadn't had to say anything in court. No way in hell would anybody believe a mouse could have a voice like that. And if they didn't believe she was a mouse ... yeah, they would have put her down."You're free and clear," he tried again. He tugged his hand. Her fingers tightened, and this time he did gasp.She turned his hand between hers and brought it up to her mouth, placing a kiss in the center of his palm. His toes curled, and sweat started to trickle down his back. It felt like she'd branded him."You know what I do."Kill people, he thought but didn't say."I make a gift of your heart's desire," she continued. He nodded. That had been why they'd been in the courtroom for the past week. A client of Wolfram and Hart had made a wish. She'd carried that wish out. Thoroughly."I know, Fresla, but-""What is your heart's desire, Lindsey?" she asked, breaking into his latest verbal attempt to get her to back off. He froze."Huh?" he asked. He knew his expression must have matched the half-witted grunt that fell out of his mouth, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. This wasn't exactly a bonus he'd expected."I will give you your heart's desire." It was a command. No room for negotiation.Half afraid to piss her off, half afraid of the ramifications if he accepted, Lindsey swallowed his reservations and named the one thing he'd wanted since he lost it. He'd almost resigned himself to being without it. Almost. But not quite. "I want my hand back."She smiled. "Know your heart."He didn't know what to say to her. There were a lot of things he wanted : to never be afraid, to end up the winner, to hold the reins of power and not get tossed on his ass. There were other things, darker things, with the taste and the smell and the feel of revenge and satiation. None of them were concrete. All of them were too much to ask for. He didn't look any deeper."My hand," he said decisively. Her smile deepened, until it looked feral. He swallowed, steeling his nerves for whatever her next move might be.Her left hand uncurled from his, and cradled the stump of his wrist in her palm. Then she leaned forward and kissed him again, this time on the lips. The heat invaded him, branding his mouth, drying his throat. His head swam, vision blurring as a strange, numbing tingle ran from his right wrist to his chest, to his left hand, then back to his chest before moving from the general area of his heart up his throat and into his mouth. He found himself kissing her back, wild in that heat, panting harshly as the feeling returned to his hands, his chest, his face."A-hem."The sound of a throat clearing finally penetrated his haze, and he opened his eyes to discover that they were back at the Firm. The car door was open, and Holland was standing there, peering down into the back seat, trying not to laugh. Lindsey looked away, and realized that he had a lap full of demon. Who was smiling back up at him.Her eyes weren't dark any longer. They were green. He blinked. The color swirled, and once again they were dark, as they should be. At the same time, the darkness in his own vision cleared. He shook his head.Then she was gracefully hoisting herself out of his lap and onto the sidewalk, and he was staggering like a drunk, pulling himself out of the car and hanging on to the door for balance.With both hands.He stared at his right hand for a very long time. Then a large, male hand came down and touched him lightly across the knuckles. He looked up to meet Holland's gaze. It was penetrating, with that unsettling hint of laughter still there."She likes you," he told Lindsey. Lindsey stared up at him."Yeah," he answered. His voice was rusty. "I guess.""I know," Holland corrected him. "Now come inside and let's wrap this up. There's been enough of a floor show already."Lindsey nodded, blinked several times, and peeled his hands away from the door frame, following Holland upstairs to the conference room. The rest of the debriefing-cum-celebration passed in a daze for him. He kept getting distracted, staring at his hands. Two healthy, human hands. The only sign he could find that one was a new addition was a thin blurred scar stretching the circumference of his right wrist.He looked up as she was leaving. She smiled back at him. His mouth burned. So did his fingertips.Then she was gone. It would be awhile before the Firm used her again. The case had been much too high profile to risk exposing her any time soon. He was relieved. Much as he appreciated getting his hand back, she was a little too creepy to have around.He flexed his hand. Flexed both hands. Curled them into fists. Visualized his new fist impacting with Angel's jaw, for lopping the fucking thing off to begin with. Then unclenched his fingers, shook hands with the senior partners, and headed back up to his office.Enough distraction. He had work to do. Clients to defend. Strategies to plan. A vampire to put away. For good. The first time it happened he was at his desk.The world went a little dark around the edges, and the scar on his right wrist began to itch. It was nine days after he'd successfully concluded the case of Fresla Brandeis vs. the State of California. The clock had just ticked silently past eleven o'clock in the morning.The next thing he knew, sunlight was washing over his desk in the waning edges of dusk. His wrist was itching again, not as badly, and fading away even as he reached to scratch it. The marble and onyx clock next to his pen stand read seven fifty three.In the evening.None of the papers on his desk had moved. But his tie was loose, hanging around his neck, and there was a slight pain in the small of his back. His right knee hurt, just a little, and his right shoulder felt bruised. His hair was falling in his eyes.Lindsey stared at the clock and wondered where the hell the day had gone and why he felt like he'd gone ten rounds with a heavyweight. He tore his eyes away from the clock and looked down at his hands, lying against the pristine cream of company stationery.There was blood under his nails.He swallowed, then got up slowly and carefully. He walked with military precision to the executive restroom and washed his hands. Brushed at his nails until the skin was shiny pink and the nail beds were completely clean. Dried his hands, walked to a stall, locked it behind himself. Knelt mechanically and vomited. Wiped his mouth with toilet tissue then very carefully stood again. He flushed the toilet, his movements jerky, uncoordinated, then forced himself back under control. He left the stall, fumbling slightly with the lock before slamming it back out of the way. Returning to the sink, he rinsed out his mouth, washed his face, and stared at himself in the mirror, hanging on to the sides of the sink for dear life.He had no fucking clue what the hell was going on.With no better idea of what to do, he returned to his office and tried to think. Dawn was breaking before he gave it up as a bad deal and went home to bed.After staring at the ceiling for three hours, he gave that up as a bad deal as well. He showered, shaved, and went back to the office.The place was buzzing like a wasp nest after it had been hit with a broom handle.Lila cornered him before he even got to his office."Can you believe it?"He gave her a half-hearted glare. "Gimme a break, Lila, I haven't even smelled my coffee yet."She shook her head at him. "Rough night?" Sweeping on before he had the chance to so much as shrug, she filled him in on the news. "Somebody hit the Stronghold last night."Lindsey felt his stomach drop. "How bad?" Files, plans, relics and artifacts were stored in the Stronghold. If a rogue group of demons got hold of some of them, or even worse, Angel, Wolfram and Hard would be in very deep shit."The worst." She shuddered, and he couldn't help but agree. "They didn't break in, they hit it." She stared at him expectantly. He blinked back, confused."With what?" he ground out when no further information was forthcoming. God, he hated it when she got smug."A tactical nuclear bomb, from the look of it. But probably just gel, from the lack of mushroom cloud or heavy radiation." She was serious."Holy shit," he breathed. She nodded, her eyes impossibly wide. He had the feeling he looked as stupefied as she did."There's nothing there but a big black pit, full of Guardian demon bones and melted metal and scorched concrete.""Who?" It was all he could do to force it out. This was a crippling blow to Wolfram and Hart.She shrugged, a tense little ripple through her shoulders. "Nobody's saying for certain, but they have their suspicions.""Angel?" he asked. It was a stab in the dark, but the soulled vampire was the best bet for a strike like this. She nodded. "But how the hell'd he find out where it was? Only the senior partners knew, and not even all of them, I don't think."That tense little shrug again, and she took a deep breath. "Rumors are flying all over the place. That the server's been hacked into, files stolen, even one of the mind-readers bribed off."He shook his head. "Nope, too scared for their lives." He didn't believe the last one."Who knows? All I know is, all hell's breaking loose, and I'm going to keep my head down and my tail covered." She patted his shoulder quickly, then headed off down the hall. "I suggest you do the same.""No doubt about it," he tossed after her, then walked slowly toward his office, thinking hard.It didn't make any sense. None of it made any sense.Two days later the security forces at the Firm were no closer to the truth. Lindsey and the rest of the junior partners were called in to a full division meeting. To no one's surprise, the mind-readers were in attendance as well.Black eyes like bottomless wells stared into him. Through him. Wandered over to the next poor bastard, then swung back to him like pit vipers striking. Unlike the last time this happened, he didn't know he was gonna die. Didn't know betrayal lived in his heart and lies coated his thoughts. All he had was a big goddamned hole in his memory. From the faintly perplexed look on the senior mind reader's face, she wasn't quite sure what to make of it, either.At least this time Phil didn't come stand behind him. If Lindsey was going to take a bullet in the brain, he wanted to know why. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he was in an X Files episode. His left hand slipped up unconsciously to feel the back of his neck. He dropped it and blushed when the younger mind reader suddenly grinned. The expression disappeared as quickly as it had shown, but he'd seen it.Whatever they'd found, it hadn't indicated treachery. Not from him, at least. And not from anyone else, because they all walked back out the door when the unnerving experience was finally over. This time, Holland didn't call him back.He glanced over his shoulder as he was leaving. Holland was looking at him, but he wasn't saying anything. And he didn't look upset. But the familiar twinkle was absent from his eyes. Lindsey checked, of his own volition this time, and turned to face his mentor."Uhm, Holland," he asked hesitantly, "are you okay?"A warm, absolutely false smile wreathed the older man's face. "Just what I was going to ask you, Lindsey."He shrugged, uncomfortable and not quite sure why. "I'm okay," he offered. Holland's smile warmed a degree."Are you sure?" His voice invited a confidence Lindsey wasn't able to give. He couldn't explain what he didn't, himself, understand."I think so," he answered. Holland gestured him out of the room with a shooing motion. Lindsey went. It was enough, for the moment. A silent shadow moved across the LA streets. It was too early for the sun to have baked the pavement yet, and the air was surprisingly sweet-scented. With the rising heat would come the smog and the traffic and the bustle of the city. Early in the day, there was only the occasional bird song, the hush-hush of a few early morning commuters, and the promise of the day to come.The door to Angel Investigations was locked. Strong fingers probed with a slender metal tool, and it was opened. The figure moved through the deserted office, making no noise to alert the vampire who'd fallen asleep less than an hour before. Three files and a computer disk were placed in the center of the desk, for Cordelia Chase to find when she came in to work a few hours later.The figure walked back to the door, flicked the handle to the locked position, and closed it silently, before disappearing down the sidewalk. A week after the security meeting and group mind-read, on a Sunday evening, Lindsey settled into his Jacuzzi and tried to relax. It was as close to a ritual as he got, these quiet evenings before the beginning of a difficult work week. He was finishing three separate briefs, cleaning up the details of a nasty settlement on a racketeering charge, and meeting with the senior partners at the end of the week. It was going to be a full slate.At nine o'clock Monday morning he found himself sitting at his desk, an open file folder in front of him, left hand wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, with absolutely no memory of the previous fourteen hours.His hand started to shake, and coffee slopped over the side of the cup. Pulling the files out of the way of the spill, he stared down at the marble desk top. His reflection stared back. His tie was loosened. There was sweat standing out along his forehead and top lip. His face was flushed.His eyes were black.As he watched, the color faded until they were his usual light green. Eventually, the shaking stopped, and he was able to breathe freely again. He pulled tissue from his desk drawer and blotted up the spilled coffee. Breathed deeply. Pulled out another tissue and used it to wipe his face. Buttoned his collar and straightened his tie. Breathed again, a little more easily. Tried it once more, to make sure he wasn't going to faint, then licked dry lips and headed out to face the day.Lawrence met him in the corridor. He had much the same pie-eyed look Lila'd had days before. Right after the Stronghold had been hit. Only his complexion was tinged with a funny green color. Lindsey scratched his wrist, only then becoming aware that it itched."What's up, Larry?" Usually, Lawrence hated being called Larry. Today, the man didn't even wince."Bad time in the old town tonight, Lindsey," he intoned, looking as if he actually meant it."How so?" Lindsey feigned indifference. The itch was fading, but the shaking was back."Records was torched last night."Lindsey gulped."So was Stalweig's penthouse."The room started to gray out."And somebody slaughtered the Advance Guard. Shrapnel bombs. An alert was called, and when they gathered at the armory, the bombs went off. Killed the whole damned lot of them."Lindsey reached out to steady himself against the wall. "No fucking way," he managed to croak."The senior partners are scrambling," Lawrence finished up the roll call of disasters. Lindsey blinked at him, willing the world to come back into focus. Eventually, it did. By then Lawrence, disappointed at not getting a more spectacular response to his litany of blows to the Firm, had wandered off in search of a more easily impressed audience.Little did Larry know, Lindsey grimaced, just how damned impressed he'd been. Without the Guard, the senior partners had no close-in protection. Without records, they had no way of tracing who might be targeting them like this. As for Stalweig ... the Houdler demon had been one of the oldest, most powerful telepathic demons alive, and one of the founding partners of Wolfram and Hart.Whoever the hell was trying to take down the Firm was getting a damned good start at it.He made it through the day, but he couldn't for the life of him say how. Late that night he stripped off and slumped on the edge of the bed. His wrist twitched and he scratched it reflectively.Something wasn't right. But he didn't know what it was, or if he had anything to do with it, or if the weird periods of missing time were involved. The timing of the black-outs was suspicious, but not suspicious enough for him to turn himself over to the mind-shredders. He'd have to bide his time, wait and watch, try to find out for himself what the hell was going on, and turn it to his advantage. He was very good at that.The ringing of the telephone breaking the silence in his apartment made him jump. He grabbed the receiver up and barked into it. "McDonald!"There was silence for a moment, then, as he was about to hang up, a soft voice spoke in his ear."Why'd you do it, Lindsey?""Angel?" he asked incredulously."Why'd you bring them over?"He pulled the handset away from his head, looked at it for an instant as if he expected it to explain what Angel was talking about, then brought it back to his ear. The vampire was still waiting for an answer."I don't have the faintest fucking idea what you're talking about." And I don't want to know, he left unsaid but echoing over the line.There was another long silence. Then Angel said, very softly, "Right." A click came through directly after the word, then the dial tone.Lindsey slowly lowered the receiver to the base and stared at it for a long time. "What the hell was that?" he finally asked the air. His empty apartment refused to enlighten him.Giving up on any sort of logic, giving up, in fact, on the whole damned day, he flopped over on his back and stared at the ceiling. He wasn't conscious of closing his eyes, but sleep snuck up on him and ambushed him.
So did his id.He was in his bed, but he wasn't alone. He was burning hot, but the other body, the one covering his, holding him down, was welcome ice to his fire. Arms surrounded and pinned him, legs longer than his own trapped him. A mouth followed as he tried to escape, hunted him down and held him and drank from his lips. Hands were in his hair, at his wrists, calming that damned itch he hadn't even realized was still bugging him. Then they were at his waist, sweeping over his legs, cradling between his thighs, running the length of him and egging him on.His mouth opened in a cry, and another mouth covered it, soothing his fever, quenching his thirst. He hadn't known he was dying of thirst until he was nearly dead from it, and now he was alive again. His own hands followed the hands moving over his skin, and his knees bent, curling over the coolness, fanning the flame. His arms moved and his spine arched, his head dipped then fell back against the pillows.He woke with semen spilling across his belly and his mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut, hands bunching the sheets.Damn Angel. If he hadn't already been.He straightened his legs, swiped the mess from his stomach with the edge of the sheet, and stared back up at the ceiling. Eventually, he stopped thinking. Eventually, he went back to sleep.The second time, he didn't dream. There were no further black-outs, and no more wanton destruction, for five days. Lindsey was in conference with Chuck, one of the senior partners, and two Pleykibmith demons who were looking for better protection for their human traffic racket, when an explosion ripped the parking garage in half.Fortunately for Lindsey, the parking garage was under the other side of the building. Unfortunately for two of the senior partners, Bill Blanewort and an ancient Jareo demon called Plou, it was centered in their limousine. The bulk of the explosives and the timing device had been wired to the drive shaft.Usually Wolfram and Hart kept problems in the family. They had a much larger budget than the LAPD, and sources the police could never tap. This attack, however, was simply too big to hide. Everyone in the building was evacuated, as the search for more explosives began. Lindsey stared across the milling people at a certain blonde head making its way determinedly toward him. He held his ground as Detective Kate Lockley stomped up and did her best to get in his face.She was kind of cute when she was on her high horse. She was also two inches taller than he was. He didn't let it bother him."Is there anything you'd like to add to the investigation, Mr. McDonald?" She said it so coolly, like she knew something that was just between the two of them, and she was inviting his confidence on the rest of it. Nice play, but he really didn't have a clue what the hell she was talking about."No," he answered politely. He could feel Holland's eyeballs boring holes in his back. Lockley stared at him awhile longer, then gave him a bright smile."Whenever you're ready, we'll talk," she told him."When hell freezes over," he said, just as politely. Her smile solidified into solid ice.She turned on her heel and stomped back over to where the explosives experts were shifting through bits of rubble. He watched her, not needing to turn to know that his mentor was now standing less than six inches behind him."Is there anything you want to say to me, Lindsey?" Holland's voice was gently inquisitive. That particular tone always made his spine want to crawl up and hide under his scalp."She's just trying to stir up the mud, Holland," he answered as calmly as he could. "Shadow boxing.""I sincerely hope so, Lindsey." It sounded like he did, too. That was one of Holland's strengths, sounding so caring as he was cutting a man to pieces and feeding the bloody bits to the dogs. Lindsey didn't say anything more. Eventually Holland drifted away.Lindsey rolled his shoulders to loosen tense muscles and blew a breath out, hard. There was nothing else to be done at the Firm, since they wouldn't be able to get back inside until the demolition team cleared them, which might not be for days. Shrugging off the inconvenience, he headed for home.Settling down at his laptop, he powered it up and prepared to work on one of the briefs he had pending. To his surprise, a window was already open on it. He stared at the screen, watching the white letters scroll across the dark blue background. When the message finished, he read it.Coughed.Read it again.Staring at the words and numbers as if certain they were an hallucination that would disappear if he took his eyes from them, he reached out and hit the 'enter' key. The words scrolled past, and others took their place.The numbers stayed.Forcing himself to remain calm, he reached out for the secure land line next to his desk. He turned off the direct line to the office, and made sure all the security checks were in place. Then he flipped on the scrambler he'd added illicitly and prayed to a God he wasn't sure existed, much less listened, that there was no one left at the Firm to overhear. He punched in one of the numbers on his computer screen and listened to the whistling tones of an overseas connection.A computerized message greeted him. He punched in a second number, waited for the appropriate message, and punched in a third. The tinny voice gave him a name and an account balance. He sat with the receiver up to his ear until the computer on the other end got tired of repeating itself and disconnected the call.Eventually he was able to get enough strength in his arm to replace the handset on its cradle. He stared at the computer screen for a very long time.How had Angel managed to pull this one off? And why had he put Lindsey's name on the account? As a set-up, twelve million dollars in an untraceable Cayman Islands bank account wasn't a bad sting. But why?His mind was still circling that question like a shark around fresh meat when the world went black again. At least he wasn't in his bedroom. The thought struck him as perfectly logical in context, he just didn't have any idea what the context was. And didn't give a tinker's damn about his own ignorance.Obviously, it was a dream.Curious to see where it would lead him, he smiled as the wind ruffled his hair, enjoying being out so late on a hot LA summer night in a convertible. It was like a Marilyn Manson take on a Beach Boys song.Which, come to think of it, was a pretty apt description of his life.The Corvette seemed to drive itself. It stopped at a lovely spot in Brentwood, just to the side of a sprawling estate. He left it there, scooping up a small gym bag from the seat behind him and slipping through the security grid like a ghost, neither questioning nor caring how he knew what codes to type in and what circuits to bypass.Once on the grounds, he wasted no time employing the equipment in the bag. A Verine demon tried to stop him, and he cut her throat before she had time to call warning. Her mate met him two steps later and he bashed her head into a solid granite gargoyle decorating the side of the steps. It seemed appropriate. They looked enough alike to be sisters.He brushed the blood and brains off his shoes, cleaned the knife on the grass, and dug back in the bag. It was the matter of moments to drop down into the catacomb below the estate and leave his little presents behind. Lumpy, vaguely roundish drops of gunk that looked like overworked gray play doh, with tiny wires poking out from the centers. Eight of them.More than enough.Slipping out was as easy as slipping in had been, once he sliced through the spinal cord of an Arkern guard demon, silencing both slavering mouths with one cut. It folded up, legs going under it, heads flopping down, looking for all the world like a puppet with its strings cut. Lindsey patted it once between the horns on the near head, then stepped over it and exited through the same hole in the sensors from where he'd entered.The Corvette was waiting, and he hopped over the side and slid into the seat. He coasted away from his parking spot before reaching down into his jacket pocket and flipping a lever on the front of a small metal box resting there. He didn't bother turning to look at the cloud of light and dust behind him. He could feel the vibration of the explosions bucking the road beneath the car. It was a little like riding a roller coaster, only flat and without having to wait in line.Ignoring the weirdness pinging through his brain, he continued into downtown and parked a block away from Angel Investigations' new office, in a rat-trap old apartment building just as crappy as the one the Firm's bully boys had blown to hell not that long before. He stalked up the sidewalk with firm resolve to do whatever the hell his body seemed to be programmed to do. His mind was on vacation, off floating somewhere to the left of reality, watching the goings-on with detached curiosity.He kinda liked dreams.The locked door opened to the touch of the pick he hadn't known he had until he used it. He breezed in, rather impressed with himself. Then he plucked the small metal box from his jacket pocket and dropped it on Cordelia's desk. He reached into the top drawer and withdrew the mallet she kept there, either to ward off rats or to knock Angel unconscious should he suddenly morph into Angelus, then lifted his arm and brought the hammer down with all his strength atop the box.Fragments. Perfect.Of course, there was now a nice, shallow crater in the middle of the desk, with cracks branching out from it, but that was okay, too. He'd buy her a new one. Or Angel could. They sure as hell had the money. He ignored the thought and scraped the scraps into the wastebasket next to her desk. They looked perfectly at home with the screwed up paper, empty hair gel can, crumpled napkin stained with chocolate and half box of used tissues with lipstick marks on them."Why?"Lindsey raised his head from his bemused peek into the trash can and stared up at Angel, standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, staring back at Lindsey. He wasn't wearing anything but a burgundy silk robe.It looked melodramatic. Overdone. Damned good on him. Lindsey grinned."Gettin' rid of the evidence," he drawled."Of what?" Angel asked steadily. Lindsey shrugged one shoulder and wandered over to stand directly in front of the vampire."God, you're cold," he said softly. There was the slightest tinge of admiration, not to mention lust, in his voice."I'm dead. I'm supposed to be cold. What's your excuse?" Angel continued to stare at him.Lindsey didn't bother to answer. He just reached up, clamped both hands in Angel's hair, and kissed him.The next thing he knew, he was flying across the room.Since this caused him to end up splayed across Cordelia's desk, with Angel crouched above him like an avenging, well, angel, Lindsey didn't complain. After all, it was his dream. If he wanted it a bit rough, who was he to balk at his own subconscious?Pushing aside that thought before he got hopelessly wound up in his own logic and tripped himself as he so often tripped others, he took advantage of Angel's proximity, and the fact that the belt on the robe had come undone. His left hand snaked up behind Angel's neck and his right hand, palm tingling and wrist itching, shot directly to Angel's crotch with the speed and aim of a well-programmed homing missile.Angel opened his mouth to protest, or yell at him, or bite him, or who knew what. Before any sound came out, or any fangs appeared, the strangest expression crossed his face. He looked down at Lindsey's fingers, busily working between his legs."Hot!" he exclaimed. He didn't look uncomfortable, just shocked.Lindsey enjoyed the reaction. "Goddamn right, I am," he growled, then arched up and latched on to Angel's lips with his own. Angel moaned into his mouth. It tasted good.Heat met ice everywhere Lindsey's hands touched Angel's skin, and after the first startled moments, Angel shuddered and lowered himself over Lindsey's body. Neither of them seemed to notice the edges of the desk cutting into them, or the fact that the shades were open as Angel literally ripped Lindsey's clothes from his body and Lindsey yanked and tugged until Angel was equally naked.Orgasm hit Angel first, and his face changed, eyes flashing yellow and fangs gleaming behind drawn-back lips as he pushed his hips into Lindsey's. The force and the slickness, slippery cool against his overheated flesh, was all it took to knock Lindsey over the edge as well, and he humped frantically against Angel's bulk as the vampire nuzzled him, gnawing drowsily on his shoulder.It hurt. Turned him on, too, but the pain was a surprise. Gradually cooling down, blood returning slowly to previously blood-starved parts of his body like his brain, Lindsey realized several things at once.The desk was fucking hard. And so was the fucking. His shoulders, his ass, his thighs and the back of his head all felt bruised.It was cold in the office. He could feel the draft of air over his feet and up along his balls where he sprawled beneath Angel. Who was also cold. It was a little like having a two hundred pound cold brick wall on top of him.His wrist wasn't itching anymore. At all.He wasn't dreaming.The last realization made him buck so hard in shock that Angel nearly fell off him. It also had the salutary effect of bringing the vampire out of his post-coital stupor.Angel got off him with much less grace than he'd landed on him, nearly breaking Lindsey's ribs and puncturing his diaphragm with a stray elbow in the process. When he finally got his breath back, Lindsey rolled somewhat painfully to the side of the desk and sat, feet dangling, stark naked, smeared with his come and Angel's, and wondered what the hell had just happened.A broad, creamy, muscular body stepped close in front of him, filling his entire field of vision. He swallowed, suddenly dry-mouthed."Why are you helping me?" Angel asked.Lindsey was slightly irritated to note that the vampire didn't seem the least disconcerted by their quick roll in the hay. On the desk. Wherever. Dismissing the thought as irrelevant, he glared up at Angel through the hair falling in his eyes."Damned if I know." Angel raised an eyebrow. Lindsey shrugged, feeling very cold all of the sudden. "It's my heart's desire." The words came tumbling out of his mouth, but he didn't say them. Or he didn't think he'd said them. His hand shot up to cover his lips, and he stared up, stricken, at Angel.The vampire looked like he wanted to laugh, but was too confused to do so.An itching started in the scar around his right wrist, and spread quickly through his fingertips to his mouth, then down along his throat to his chest, settling in over his heart and making his entire body twitch."Fuck," he whispered as the import of that itch finally sank in. "Be careful what you wish for. Even if you don't know it, you just might get it."This time it was he who jumped Angel. There was a thread of desperation underlying the passion, but the force of his need itself was enough. They stumbled down the stairway, Angel guiding their steps, Lindsey too busy trying to burrow into Angel's hide to worry about anything as inconsequential as falling down the stairs and breaking their necks.Knowing it was a dream didn't do much to alleviate the unreality of it. Angel had the strength to throw him off, he'd proven it, but he didn't seem to want to let go of Lindsey's heat. Lindsey took shameless advantage of that fact, kissing and stroking and rubbing against every inch of Angel he could reach. By the time they'd ricocheted off the couch and landed on the bed, Lindsey was on top, and Angel was just as crazy with lust as Lindsey was.A brief moment of sanity broke through, and Lindsey found the strength to grab hold of Angel's hair and pull his head back, breaking their kiss."D'you love me?" he snapped. The dark eyes flared, yellow swirling in their depths."Hell, no, I hate you, now shut up so I can fuck you," Angel growled back.Lindsey nodded, satisfied. Angel tipped them both over, and Lindsey tried not to suffocate or lose his mind from sensory overload as Angel did just that. Thoroughly.Much later, every thought screwed right out of his head, butt too sore to lay on, sprawling over Angel, the itch in his damned wrist finally allayed, Lindsey rested his chin on Angel's chest and let his mind drift.They'd have to talk, of course. Eventually. Not quite yet. He had to find out if Angel knew about the accounts.They might even have to work together, to clean up what was left of Wolfram and Hart. It was time he went into practice for himself, anyway. He wondered, vaguely, if Holland had survived the final assault. Couldn't make up his mind if he hoped the answer to that question was yes or no, and gave up trying to decide. He drifted on.He looked forward to hearing Chase's scream when she realized who her boss was bedding. The Englishman would probably just be jealous.They'd definitely have to fuck again. That had been much too good to be a one-off.His eyelids were closing, and he stared at Angel through his lashes as long as he could before he finally fell asleep. On the edge of oblivion, he heard a voice winding through his mind, laughing at him. "Paid in full," it told him.He believed it.FIN
|
33708
|
Q A
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Sports Night",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by allfireburns",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2009-12-21T00:00:00",
"words": "405",
"Additional Tags": "Banter, Snark, POV Third Person, Humor",
"Relationship": "Jeremy Goodwin/Natalie Hurley",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Jeremy didn't hear the door to the editing room open, and didn't notice anyone had entered the room until someone covered his eyes from behind him. "Guess who?"Jeremy pretended to think for a moment before asking, "Jenny?" Natalie's hands dropped instantly, and he turned to face her as she sat in the chair next to him."Jeremy—""I was joking.""Jokes about your porn star ex-girlfriend aren't funny.""I think…" Jeremy began, but gave up before getting out any more of the sentence. "You know what, never mind. What can I do for you?""What, I need a reason to be around you?""No…""I mean, I am your girlfriend, so every now and then I do like to—""Natalie," Jeremy said slowly. "I'm sorry, and you know I love you very much, but I have a lot of work to do right now."Natalie smiled at him, her slightly irritated expression vanishing immediately and leaving Jeremy to wonder if she'd done that just to fluster him. "Actually, I have a question."Jeremy spread his hands. "Ask away.""A&E's covering a rock, paper scissors tournament."He just stared at her, searching for a response, and finally realized he had no idea what kind of answer she wanted. "That's not a question.""My question is, why aren't we covering it?""Because we're a sports show, Natalie.""And?""Rock, paper scissors is not a sport.""Dan says poker's a sport. Why can't this be?""You know, there's a reason we don't listen to Dan about these things.""No, I'm serious. Why can't it be a sport?""Natalie, garbage can basketball is more of a sport. It's ridiculous.""I agree that it's ridiculous.""Good.""I still think we should be covering it."Jeremy looked at Natalie, silently wondering whether it would be wise to bring up the question of when exactly she had lost her mind. Natalie looked back, clearly not about to leave until she got some sort of answer. At last, Jeremy sighed and said, "Tell you what? Why don't you bring it up at the next rundown meeting."She sat back in her chair and smiled a little. "You think that's a good idea?"He nodded. "You know what else is a good idea?""Letting you work?""Exactly."Natalie grinned and leaned over to kiss him, but pulled away after a minute to ask, "You're sure rock, paper scissors isn't a sport?""Positive."
|
52047
|
Couch Potatoes 1 Chris
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "NSYNC",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by waxjism",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2001-03-08T00:00:00",
"words": "354",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "JC Chasez/Chris Kirkpatrick",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Couch Potatoes",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Dusk settled over them like a warm blanket. Chris turned off the porch. JC giggled softly in the growing darkness. "Dude.""Yeah.""Do you have any more of that?"Chris flopped into the sofa. God, it was still hot as hell. "I got plenty.""You're the pot king.""I like to keep a supply. It's medicine, baby.""Baaaaad medicine ..." More giggling. He rolled another with frowning concentration. He congratulated himself on his talent in the area. Hell, it was dark. JC was a pale smudge on the other end of the sofa.The conversation got choppy, choppier, then faltered altogether. Chris' eyes started to droop, and it was very easy to just ... sort of ... lean over and make JC his very own, slightly bony pillow."We should do this more often," JC mumbled. His breath was hot and smoky on Chris' face. "I could put up my own stash and all.""Why bother, I've got the goods, man.""Yeah, but, like. I should just ... dunno. Um."JC always thought too much. And he just wasn't very good at it. Chris waved a hand in front of his eyes. He could still see it. Stupid to pretend it was going to get really black. "You're not worrying about mine-yours-mine-yours shit, are you? Cause that ain't cool. This isn't business, it's ... whatsit. Friendship.""Yeah. Um. Hoo. This was good, though. You should." Quiet, for a while, then, "you know. Haha. Do you mind if I pay in trade?""What are you talki--" but he was silenced by a clumsy, badly aimed, but pretty enthusiastic kiss. That was out of the left field. That was a curve ball. He fought his fuzzy brain and faulty balance and clawed himself upright. "Hey. What?"JC was quiet."Hey." Hmm. This night seemed to have hit a bit of a downward spiral. Or upward. Or ... whatever."I could--"Quickly now: "It's okay. It's ..." and it was. Sure it was. "'s good. Yeah."He slid back down. His head spun lazy circles. JC threaded his hands through his hair. "Yeah?""Yeah."Chris was glad he hadn't thrown away that old couch.
|
87615
|
Let Me Count The Ways
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Heroes - Fandom",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by levitatethis",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-05-17T00:00:00",
"words": "3,069",
"Additional Tags": "Angst",
"Relationship": "Mohinder Suresh/Sylar",
"Character": "Chandra Suresh",
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
~ ~Chandra~ ~He binds them before they ever know the other even exists. Good intentions all around, but they all know about the road to Hell. It is Chandra's mission first, to find and bring awareness and knowledge to those who do not understand what is happening to themselves; all in an attempt to atone for the one he could not save, the one that mattered most.Mohinder, left behind in a state of confusion, does not understand that his father's enforced distance, his heir of dismissiveness, is his act of love towards his son, to both spare him and show him where his future may lie. Mohinder only sees inexplicable abandonment at first. It is not until later that he comes to appreciate Chandra's perceived lunacy for what it really is: a prophetic leap in human evolution that will become Mohinder's life calling; a calling that will take him further than Chandra would have ever thought possible; a calling that will bring great risk to his own life.Fathers and sons.Gabriel is amongst the first few whom Chandra engages with. He is eager and willing and looking to fill the void he has achingly felt his entire life; he also proves to be the most obsessive. Unknowingly to Chandra, Sylar is the fascinating and frightening revelation of his work with Gabriel. Beyond anything Chandra's wondrous mind can imagine, Sylar exceeds expectation with such speed that he indiscriminately destroys anyone who gets in his way.Chandra's life and death is the beginning of Mohinder and Sylar. He is their starting point, but there is nothing simple about it.Black holes and revelations. ~ ~Radio Static~ ~The bristling sound of electricity changes meaning with the turning of the speedometer. During the first few hours it reminds them how far they are from home. Invading the middles or ends of songs, it accentuates the silence between the travelers.The need to destroy the awkwardness forces both men to fill the silence with discussion of such general proportions that neither remembers what the other has said ten minutes later. However, when all meaningless topics are spent what is left is a series of discussions that will forever alter them.In the hours and days that follow, the two men reemerge as companions finding common ground and intellectual stimulation as a rich source of currency that they exchange hurriedly and with great expectation.For a brief time the inevitable radio static is incessant, persistent and torturous. Sylar's struggle to maintain leads him to focus in on Mohinder's calming voice; always talking to Zane. Sylar uses it as a guide to fight back the crackling electricity that threatens to turn his brain to mush.It is during the last leg of their trip that the radio static is acceptable. No words necessary, Mohinder and Sylar sit in comfort, knowing the silence need not be broken. ~ ~Curry and Chai~ ~Mashed potatoes and sour cream was the most exotic dish Gabriel would partake in as a child. A dash of black pepper from his mum would fill the Gray family spice quotient every day. Simple and unobtrusive was Virginia's motto. She never cared for experimentation when it came to food. She found the idea self-grandizing and the luxury of persons with too much time on their hands. With no comparison to make, Gabriel did not know any better.Settling in New York, in Mohinder's apartment (Sylar pretends to see it for the first time although he has already memorized every nook and cranny from his visits with Chandra), Gabriel experiences his first taste of the unknown.A homesick Mohinder introduces Gabriel's inexperienced taste buds to masalas, cumin, elaichi, amli, turmeric and saffron. They make Gabriel's mouth explode with sensations and his eyes water, nearly choking the first time.He loves it.Unbeknownst to Mohinder he has also guided Gabriel away from coffee, a drink he apathetically consumed during tedious yet interesting enough hours in his father's watchmaker's store. Gabriel had never put much thought into the hot beverage he coated his stomach with each day, until one night when he tries Mohinder's chai. It is an acquired taste but Gabriel takes to it much faster than he would have initially thought, the taste appeals to Sylar's curious nature.Being together strikes a balance for both men. Mohinder loves to cook and looks forward to the social act of sharing his food with a friend in this large, lonely city; while Sylar's sense of taste has always been open to new experiences, and Mohinder is the perfect travel guide. ~ ~Colours~ ~If colours can represent people, Mohinder is a kaleidoscope of bold, rich tones that are constantly blending and bleeding into each other. He is midnight blue and crimson red, burnt orange and chocolate brown; he is lime green, royal purple and raw umber. Depending on who crosses his path a new colour is created. Mohinder's blend with Peter is different than the shades created with Bennett or Molly. Each one is unique and reflects back on the world.Gabriel is all neutrals, beige mostly. His palette is simple and safe. At its best it allows him to blend easily into his surroundings; at its worst it resigns him to a life of the known. If, or when, the right person comes along, Gabriel's palette can be brightened and enhanced. That, however, depends on the person. The blend created when Chandra crossed his path was unusual and intoxicating. Gabriel's brown edges began to shimmer. With Mohinder, the shade created is warm and soothing, but there is a hint of something odd at the edges, subtle swirls through the middle that makes the colour both beautiful and off putting.Sylar is all blackness. He absorbs everything around him, taking it into himself, and gives nothing back except a sense of his ever growing, unstoppable power; a black hole in human form. He is attracted to all colours; his want never ends.When Mohinder and Sylar cross paths the blend created has no name. Its existence is yet to be verified, but it is there all the same. Sylar's blackness does not dull Mohinder's palette; rather it encourages it. Mohinder's colours cannot be absorbed, a curiousity not lost on Sylar. Two extremes of the same spectrum; they exist in relation to each other. ~ ~Pushpins and String~ ~Spattered across the world map, the simplicity of the five colours seems random enough. Marking up towns, cities and countries, the coloured plastic sits fixed to the board below, metal piercing through paper and cork. Plastic for people; it sounds coldly impersonal, like a poorly thought out slogan.Pieces of string, varying in length, encircle each pin before proceeding in another direction to encircle another one. Unknowingly strangers throughout the world are being connected in this apartment.A treasure map.Mohinder is overwhelmed by it. There are far too many people to try to reach and handfuls ignore his attempts on a daily basis. He cannot see a final destination in sight, no final resting spot. He sees only more and more pins with connecting string. He will never catch up, he will always be outpaced as more people clutter the board; but he will try, he will give them the hope and choice they deserve. It is the least he can do with what he knows.Sylar's eyes take in the increasing numbers of plastic people and connecting lines as a challenge set before him. Each one takes him closer to the treasure chest buried at the end of it all; all powerful, most special being; the one whom all others will look towards and recognize.Together, looking at the growing collage of pins and string over land masses and bodies of water, Mohinder' s eyes widen at the necessary burden of the mission he has placed upon himself and he is thankful to have someone to share it with; while Sylar's heart pounds at the gift Mohinder has unintentionally presented him. ~ ~Broken Watches and Microscopes~ ~During their time together Gabriel had noticed all of Chandra's broken watches. It amazed him that when one stopped functioning Chandra would buy a brand new one instead of addressing what had stopped the current one. His lack of loyalty bothered Gabriel's sensibilities. He thought about fixing them himself but their working relationship went off of the rails around that time and Gabriel never got the chance.Until now.Sylar finds a calming contemplation in the adjustment of the connecting parts. It is a self imposed meditation that works remarkably well on the days or nights when Sylar instinctually, desperately, wants to find a name on the list but cannot leave the apartment without Mohinder's questioning look.Hunched over the kitchen table he loses track of time as his mind becomes singularly focused. So far the count of fixed watches is four. Sylar does not ask for thanks or fish for compliments from Mohinder. Instead he leaves the latest working watch on one of the bookshelves and busies himself with another chapter in the latest book he is reading. He does, however, notice when Mohinder, seemingly in the middle of mountains of research, suddenly stops and picks up the now ticking watch. Sylar's eyes spy as Mohinder examines the face of the mechanical contraption before he holds it to his ear, smiling at the sound of ticking. Four times now. It is thanks enough, even though Sylar does not notice the increasing glances of suspicion that accompany these moments.Mohinder's appreciation for Sylar's, or Zane as he believes him to be, quick intellectual prowess is most apparent in his willingness to share his academic research. Sylar is the first person he has taken the time to explain in detail, without watering down the terminology, the nature of his work.Mohinder regularly invites Sylar to look through his microscope, gazing at the microbe world thriving on various slides in his collection. For Mohinder sharing his work is twofold: Sylar's presence allows him to share the overwhelming amount of information he acquires with another like mind; Sylar's mind understands the complexities, intricacies and technicalities of what influences and inspires Mohinder's research. Mohinder recognizes the look of understanding in Sylar's eyes while he nods his head. It is easy for Mohinder to ignore, for a time, the strange glint in Sylar's eyes that accompanies these gestures. ~ ~Keyboards and Pages~ ~They are technology and tradition, progress and simplicity melded together. The clattering clicks of the laptop keyboard under Mohinder's fingertips find their counterbalance in the swishing turn of book pages in Sylar's hands from across the room. An aural rhythm is created that gives the impression of compliance and acceptance.Deeper, just below the sketchy surface, those personas are cracking.While Mohinder's fingers mindlessly tap correct information without a second glance, his mind takes it upon itself to wander, to question the inconsistencies of the man sitting in the next room inhaling books as if they will all be gathered up and burned before the end of the day.The key clicks are to Sylar what the turning pages are to Mohinder; a believable façade based on a minute trace of truth.Sylar retains information while skimming the words that collectively mark the bound pages in his hands. He barely needs to concentrate. Instead he surveils Mohinder without drawing attention. The flipping of pages does not drown out the consistent beating of Mohinder's heart and the steadiness of his breathing. Sylar has started noticing the split second glances but chalks it up to natural curiousity on Mohinder's part. With nothing else to warn him that there is anything to be concerned about, he tells himself he is paranoid, he will know if Mohinder is going to turn on him.The apartment fills with the sound of keys clicking and swishing pages. ~ ~Smiles~ ~Gabriel's childhood was not filled with happiness. That is not to say it was a bad childhood, rather it was a reserved and unemotional one; except for the times when his dad would…quiet but potentially explosive. He can count on both hands the times when mum offered him a smile, but there was always a hidden agenda, a double meaning, normally related back to his dad. He can count on one hand the times he felt an affinity for a smile himself but those always ended up odd and lopsided on his face, not at all reflective of his true feelings.Gabriel finds Mohinder's smile mesmerizing. He has never seen something so inviting in all his life. Not once did it occur to Gabriel what he had been missing until Mohinder showed it to him.Sylar finds Mohinder's smile distracting; it lights up the fucking room. No matter what plans, worries or questions are plaguing Sylar's mind, they are instantly tossed aside or temporarily forgotten when Mohinder flashes his grin. It is not that Sylar hates the smile, rather he finds himself looking forward to it each day. It is becoming a serious problem, one that he forgets again when Mohinder throws one his way.Mohinder's smiles work in degrees. Others rarely notice the distinctions but Mohinder does. There is the smile when he is trying to make an uncomfortable situation seem less awkward, like an icebreaker. There is the smile he gives when he is trying to make someone else feel better, even if he does not share the sentiment, as an act of sympathy. Then there is the smile that is all him when he is happy. It is real and genuine and so big that his eyes light up in a united front.He has shown all three to Sylar since they first met. So far, Sylar has only recognized the last one. ~ ~Tuning Forks and Telekinesis~ ~The tactics used during their inevitable first showdown renders their battle a thing of beauty. By the end of it, after they have both been within death's grasp, they have learned their most valuable lesson: never to underestimate the other.In that, they are on equal footing.The drugged chai impresses as does the spinal tap. Sylar sees the all familiar scientist understanding full well the opportunity to experiment on the one and only definitive Patient Zero.But it is the tuning fork that confirms what Sylar has come to discover during his time with Mohinder; Mohinder is special, he is different from the ability-challenged and ability-wasting others. The tuning fork is much more creative and thoughtful a weapon than Sylar would have expected from one so academically minded; this despite realizing that Mohinder is much more human, emotionally speaking, than most in his field of work.The tuning fork is brilliantly unusual and confirms that Mohinder can inflict, and enjoy doing so, punishment when necessary. He is not above compromising himself.Sylar feels a sense of worthiness that Mohinder would put forth such contemplation and effort while handling him. It is a compliment for Sylar, one that he returns with certainty and a touch of flair. It is the least he can do after Mohinder reveals he has the guts to shoot a bullet at Sylar's head.The bullet frozen in midair is the parlor trick, the "ta-dah! I still have my powers, " moment. Sylar takes greater pleasure in hurtling Mohinder's body around his apartment without ever laying a hand on him. Barely moving from his standing position on the other side of the room Sylar turns unused pushpins into flying darts that draw Mohinder's blood to the surface of his body. Pinning Mohinder to his ceiling, dripping blood to the floor below, is a work of art.Over the course of one day they both show their hands, revealing their strengths and weaknesses. They can no longer hide what is staring them both in the face. ~ ~Inconvenient Truths~ ~Mohinder will most definitely avenge his father and do the world a favour by killing Sylar, eventually.Sylar will come to realize that Mohinder's existence is nothing more than a roadblock to his own achievements and that it would be best to remove him from the equation; at some point.But not yet.Unspoken admissions skirt the corners of their minds, unaware that the other is unconsciously thinking the same thoughts.In an inconceivably small amount of time, it would be hardly a blip if the existence of the world could be elongated and spread out in a line stretching out from the beginning to the present, a fragile thread connected two lonely souls whose paths crossed one day, violent, intertwined paths destined to meet before either man came into being.To kill would be expected and acceptable. Legitimate excuses are at the disposal of both men; Sylar is a mass murderer, Mohinder is a significant threat.Still, they hesitate.Sylar is destruction and Mohinder's last personal connection to his father.Mohinder is vengeful and Sylar's last vital connection to humanity.There was a time when Mohinder could feign comfort in the idea that the choice to end Sylar's life was ultimately decided by someone else's hand, at Kirby Plaza. That is, until Sylar turns up in his apartment seeking help.Mohinder is always the first person Sylar turns to. In his most vulnerable state it is Mohinder's name that slips off his tongue with ease, it is Mohinder's face that flashes first through his mind; it is Mohinder who Sylar moves towards for help, even if it is only temporarily.Against his better judgment Mohinder keeps these secrets for them both, not turning Sylar in, finding a way to spare his life for one more day.Seeing each other now does not alter the past but it does make the present harder to explain. Neither of them tries anymore. Each has a ready excuse to fall back on for why the other is still alive. Mohinder's claim of scientific research keeps his conscience from completely overwhelming him, although each day is a struggle. Sylar tells himself that since Mohinder has no special ability to take, to end his life would be unjustified, but his mind refuses to let him ignore the fact that Mohinder did try to kill him once and nearly succeeded.They are bound together in the most complex and devastating ways.The inconvenient truths that hold hostage their minds, keeping them in each others spheres for another day, tell them it will most certainly end badly for one or both of them.But not yet.
|
83132
|
Invisible
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Allen Francis Doyle, unnamed bartender",
"Fandom": "Angel: the Series",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Drocell",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-04-27T00:00:00",
"words": "495",
"Additional Tags": "Friendship, Flash Fic",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "The Irish Smile",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Night had fallen over LA, covering the bustling city in a blanket of darkness. The lights of the city flickered like a brilliant flock of stars. But that light never did reach where it was needed most. Alleys were cloaked in shadows, the same alleys that silly women would frequent on their way home. By morning, their lifeless bodies would be riddling the alleys like cheap decorations. Everyone seemed to blame the murders on maniacs, but some knew better. Some knew what lurked in the dead of night.The bartender stood silently in the little store, a carton of milk in one hand, and a magazine in the other. It was only a simple block away from her home, and right across from her work place. She knew the owner well, as he also worked the night-shift. Right now, he was preoccupied with the rerun of yesterday's football game.The little bell above the door jiggled.The bartender was the first to look up, hazel eyes rigid with suspicion. Her gaze relaxed upon seeing a familiar face. Of course, he never remembered the bartender. He never recalled the person that served him countless drinks. Doyle was oblivious to her existence, even though he frequented her bar almost every night. The bartender turned her eyes back to her magazine as he passed right by her. He hadn't come in tonight, not into the bar at least.Doyle didn't smell of the Scotch she knew so well. She watched curiously, out of the corner of her eye, as he slaughtered over to the back. He yanked open the glass door, of one of the refrigerators, and chose his poison.Bud Light, she scoffed.The corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. He muttered to himself as he made his way over to the magazine rack. The bartender knew her client well, she had noticed his trait of having conversations with himself. She found it amusing. He rummaged through the magazines, his hand reaching out towards the Playboy addition. Doyle glanced around, spotting her only a few feet away, and casually grabbed a magazine about horses located beside the lewder one.She wanted to burst out into a fit of laughter."You're cheating on me," she commented.Doyle seemed startled. The bewildered man looked around the area, searching for who she might be talking to. She laughed softly, snapping her magazine shut. "I work at the bar across the street," those hazel eyes glanced towards the case of beer tucked under his arm."Really now? I don't remember seein' ya'," a boyish grin spread across his face."I blend in really well," she informed him.The bartender brushed passed him, heading towards the register. She should of called him on always being drunk, but he had his reasons. Everyone did."See you later, Doyle," she mused.She knew his name, but he never knew hers.No one cared enough to learn the name of the friendly 'tender.
|
51639
|
Code Red
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Angel: the Series",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by Vampire_Penguin",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-01-16T00:00:00",
"words": "1,477",
"Additional Tags": "Humor",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Spike/Gunn, Spike/Wes, Spike/Angel",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Angel looked slowly around the table. "Can someone - anyone - explain to me how this happened?" Gunn shrugged. "I got nothing." Wesley looked thoughtful. "Wofram and Hart does own this building. Some kind of residual evil may still linger, a subtle form of influence that we weren't sufficiently aware of." "Well, something unnatural has to be going on, because this?" Angel gestured at the men seated around him, then at the room in general. "This just isn't right." Spike slammed his bottle of beer down on the table. "Oh, for fuck's sake. What the hell is so wrong with a few mates going out for a drink after a hard day at the office? It's perfectly natural." "We're not mates, Spike, in case you hadn't noticed. And excuse me, but when did five hours spent downloading porn from the internet and staring at Harmony's ass constitute a hard day at the office?" Spike picked up the bottle again, took a long swig and then leant back with it resting on his crotch. "Well, okay, the whole day wasn't hard. I did have to go and take care of things once or twice. Gets a mite painful otherwise, you know? Or no, on second thoughts you probably don't know. You never were one to take proper advantage of your opportunities, were you Pops?" "Don't call me that." "Why? Don't you like being the daddy any more? It always used to do it for you." "Spike, for the love of - and I don't know what you're laughing at, mister." Gunn spread his hands. "Nothing, bossman. Just remembering a particularly amusing deposition, is all. " Angel scowled at him. "I cannot believe that this is what we've come to. Sitting in a demon bar listening to Spike talk about how he jacked off thinking about my secretary's ass." "Never said it was Harm's ass I was thinking about, did I?" "Then - oh no, forget it. Not going there in this lifetime or any other. Spike, I don't know what black magic you invoked to make this happen, but that's it. Fun's over. I'm going back to work. " "I should really make a move too," said Wesley. "Right you are, then. I guess you two got - um, things to take care of, huh? Woah there Watcher, take it easy. You'll choke yourself to death." Spike leaned forward and patted Wesley on the back. "There, there. Did that go down the wrong hole, then?" Wesley coughed, finally getting his breathing under control. "Yes, thank you Spike. Anyway, you know that I'm not - " "Not what? Used to having things in the wrong hole?" Wesley glared at him. "I'm not a Watcher. Not any more. You know that." Spike shrugged. "I know you don't watch Slayers any more. But I've sure as hell seen you watching -" He paused, and brought the bottle to his lips for a long, slow pull. "Other things." Gunn let out a short laugh. "Man, you really are a piece of work, aren't you?" Spike took his time licking the remnants of beer from his lips. "You better believe it. I'm a Code Red all the way, baby." "A what now?" "A Code Red. Come on, you know the game. Grade one, first choice, top of the pile." He stopped, and looked from one bemused expression to the other. "You're kidding me, right? You've never played the game? Well hell, you must be the only ones. Everyone else in that firm plays it." Angel leaned forward. "What game? What are you talking about, Spike?" "I can't believe - fuck, your ivory towers really are sheltered, aren't they? Okay, here's how it goes. You have to imagine that the world's been destroyed - not too much of a stretch there, even for you unimaginative bastards - except for the people you work with. So pretty soon there isn't going to be an awful lot left to do with yourself apart from screw like ferrets. So now you have to grade your potential shags. Code Red is a 'yep, I'm there, front of the queue, do 'em in a heartbeat.' Code Orange is 'if I don't get a better offer, why not?' Code Yellow is 'well, okay, I could if I had to, but I'd really rather not'. Code Green is 'only with a gun to my head', and Code Blue is 'just shoot me already.' " "And - people play this game? People in the office?" "Course they do. I was playing with the guys down in Curses & Hexes for hours yesterday, and we - " "So who were you grading?" "Who do you think?" Spike grinned into the silence. "Comparing notes is the best part. You get some surprising stuff come out, sometimes. But then I guess there's no accounting for taste. Apart from where yours truly is concerned, of course. Like I said, everyone agrees this bod of delights is Code Red material." "And Code Red was - " "Yep, I'm there, front of the queue, do 'em in a heartbeat." He took another swig of beer, then leaned back and waited. "So, who's gonna be the first to crack?" "What?" "Who's going to ask what their grades were?" Angel looked away, while Gunn examined his fingernails. Wesley cleared his throat. "Really, Spike. I hardly think that any of us are going to be concerned with such juvenile antics." "Uh huh. So you don't want to know." "Of course not. We've got far more important things to - " Gunn shook his head. "Screw that, Wes. I want to know." He faced Spike. "I'm not a Blue, right? Just tell me I'm not a Blue." Spike patted his hand. "Only to Kevin in the mail room. And he only gives it up to Haslikar demons. Kid's got a thing for tentacles. S'okay, pet, you got a Red off me." "Okay. And yuk. And thanks. I think. Oh, and Spike? You're holding my hand." "Oh yeah. So I am. Come on, though - you got to have known I'd vote you top dollar. What with your, um -" He flicked his gaze downwards. "Considerable assets. Wasn't ever in doubt, was it?" "And what the hell do you know about my people's assets, Spike?" Spike grinned at Angel. "Shower walls are pretty thin, when you're a ghost." "Gunn? Tell me he doesn't mean - " "What? What was I supposed to do? Man's gotta wash." "I don't believe this. Spike, you are just the most unbearable, - " "See, now that's why you only get Yellow. Too much attitude." "- annoying little - what? You gave me a Yellow?" "S'all you deserve, you big lump." "Gunn gets Red and I'm only Yellow? You've got to be kidding me." "Nope. Sorry, pet. But, you know, the novelty's kinda worn off with you. S'got to be fresh blood to make if Red for me these days, if you know what I mean. You're yesterday's news." Spike turned to Wesley before Angel could react. "Well?" "Well what?" "Don't you wanna know what you are?" "No.""Liar. I can smell - " Wesley stood up, holding his jacket carefully in front of him. "Spike, I've had quite enough of your childish games. Now if you'll all excuse me, I have some things - some work to take care of." Gunn got up too. "Well, I guess that means the party's over. It's been - fun, guys. Catch you later." Angel snorted something that sounded remarkably like 'yellow' before pushing the table away and following. Spike leaned back in his chair and finished his beer. Not a bad evening's entertainment after all. And if he was any kind of judge, it was only going to get better. Now that he was corporeal he'd have to knock on the door of Gunn's shower room instead of waltzing straight in, but hey, there were compensations. And Wyndam-Pryce had been lusting after him since - well, ever. Everyone could see that - apart from the daft git himself, apparently. But Spike knew there was no way that curiosity of his wasn't going to get the better of him. Sooner or later - actually he was banking on slightly later, considering the workout he had planned with Charlie in about half and hour - Wesley was going to be asking about his grade. Purely for some kind of research into employee insubordination or suchlike - and Spike was going to be more than happy to help conduct a few experiments. Oh yeah, this had been a good day's work all right. He whistled as he walked back into the Wolfram & Hart building, a happy tuneless number that lasted through the main lobby and into the elevator, but was choked off outside Angel's office as a hand whipped out and caught him by the throat. It hauled him inside and threw him against the desk as the door was slammed shut behind him. "Now," snarled Angel, hands already unbuckling his pants. "We'll see who's a Code fucking Red, shall we?" -end-
|
8296
|
A Family in Five Acts
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "The Archive (Ivy), Jared Kincaid, Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, John Marcone",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Gehayi",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2009-11-14T00:00:00",
"words": "3,167",
"Additional Tags": "POV Minor Character, Family, Community: smallfandomfest, POV Female Character, Female Protagonist",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Dresden Files - Jim Butcher, Dresden Files - All Media Types",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
She has been the repository of all recorded human knowledge since her birth. From the moment she slid from her mother's body, her mind contained everything from the meaning of the first cave painting to the entire contents of the Library of Alexandria, the cave library of Dunhuang on the Silk Road, the Bodleian Library at Oxford, and the Library of Congress.And every year, there is more recorded. Not that all of it is wise or knowledgeable. Not that all of what she remembers is worth remembering; she can recall every greeting card ever printed, for example. Every bad screenplay or manuscript or piece of graffiti appears in her mind as soon as it is written. And she's the first Archive to have to cope, not only with all that, but with every word and image sent across the Internet.A baby with absolute knowledge and with absolute comprehension of all of it, not to mention the power to wield tens of thousands of apocalyptic magical spells that were old when recorded history was young, is not really a baby in the truest sense of the word. She knows this, as do the old and powerful wizards who serve as her protectors and gaolers. She is not a small child with magical powers to the wizards of the White Council; she is simply the Archive, and she must be guarded until she is no longer so young or so physically unimpressive that she can be easily overpowered, corrupted or killed.She is of no value to the wizards personally, of course. They protect her because of the importance of her function, not because they see her as a human being. They do not. They see her as essential but terrifying...and somehow unnatural. She can read it in their eyes.***Then, when she is four, she meets Kincaid for the first time.She is going to China to mediate a dispute, and the Jade Court has stated, politely but firmly, that she cannot bring wizard bodyguards when the issue involves wizards of the White Council. And since the Knights of the Cross tend to view vampires as the enemy, the Jade Court would clearly regard one of them protecting her as a blatant insult.She talks to the wizards, and begins making arrangements to interview nonhumans as bodyguards. And, she states firmly, she'll interview them herself. Alone. This particular argument doesn't go over well with the wizards, who are convinced the interviewees will kill her or worse. But eventually, she gets her way.The last potential bodyguard she speaks to is Kincaid.He is tall and muscular with longish dark blond hair, and his dark blue eyes are as empty as stones. But his first words to her are not. "You're a little bit of a thing," in a tone of surprise."I am four years, eight months, three weeks, five days, eighteen hours and thirty-seven minutes old," she replies steadily, not quite sure how to react to his words. No one has ever called her "a little bit of a thing" before. "Doubtless you researched that much before your interview.""Oh, of course," he says, and she suddenly knows that he researched a great deal more than that. "But I have to ask." He kneels down in front of her, so that his head is almost on a level with hers. "Did you make those numbers up? I'm sure you do know your age down to the last nanosecond--but that was a joke, right?"He gives her such a conspiratorial look that she can't help but giggle. It's the first time anyone's teased her, the first time anyone has realized that she might not be 100% serious all the time."What are your specialties, Mister Kincaid?" she says, making an effort to drag the conversation back to its origin."Just Kincaid," he replies. "Or the Hound of Hell, if you like that better."He's just given her his entire resume with that nickname. The Hound of Hell is legendary in magical circles--an unbelievably strong, centuries-old half-demon with flawless aim, the ability to see in the dark, and a sense of smell that the finest bloodhound on earth would envy."You worked for Vlad Drakul," she says quietly. "For years.""Yes.""Why?"He shrugs. "He hired me, and he paid me. And he kept on paying me."There's an honesty to this that pleases her. Kincaid wasn't loyal to Drakul, only to his money. Which means that Kincaid should be equally loyal to her. It isn't the sort of loyalty that the wizards seem to have toward the world, and that suits her just fine.Besides...she rather likes the notion of having someone around who will tease her and understand that she's joking."I suppose," Kincaid says reluctantly, "you're gonna need to take a look at me to be sure that I'm me and not some fucking fake."Of course she knows the word--it is impossible to have most modern comedy routines and the entire Internet in one's head and not know it--but this is the first time she's heard anyone say it in her presence. The wizards tend to be rather formal, as if dealing with an infant empress."I don't think you should use such language," she says primly as she fights down a smile. "It would distress the wizards enormously, and of course it would be highly inappropriate for a four-year-old child to swear. How could I possibly justify it?""Tell 'em you need to expand your vocabulary to adult levels," Kincaid says with a grin.She grins back...and murmurs the spell that will briefly grant her the equivalent of Wizard's Sight. Instantly, Kincaid--the human Kincaid--vanishes, replaced by something huge, hideous and twisted with curling horns, membranous, bat-like wings and cold, deadly eyes.Then she banishes the spell, and the human Kincaid is back once more.She studies him for a minute or two. "You look like Hellboy," she says at last. "Only your horns aren't shaven."Kincaid blinks. But all he says is, "Never heard that comparison before."She doesn't let herself get drawn into that discussion. Besides, she's seen far worse than a horned and winged half-demon, though she doesn't want to get drawn into that discussion, either. "I can hire you through April, if that would be satisfactory.""What happens in April?""Re-negotiation." Virtuously she adds, "It's better if management doesn't become complacent about having suitable employees.""Sounds good. When do you want me to start?""Would tomorrow be too soon?""Nope. That'd be fine." He flows to his feet, walks toward the door and then digs into one of his jean pockets, whirls around and tosses her a small package.Crayons. Sixteen brightly coloured Crayola crayons, with names like Illuminating Emerald, Razzmic Berry and Sonic Silver."Thought maybe you could use a little colour in your life," he says. "Everything around here seems very...white."And with that, he's gone. And she's left staring at the first present anyone ever thought to give her.By the next morning, she's drawn up the new contract between the wizards and the Jade Court. And it's in a lovely shade of yellowish-orange called Metallic Sunburst.***She meets Harry Dresden when she is seven. His trial records, as well as the Duke of the Red Court's challenge to a duel, have led her to expect someone much angrier and much darker than this unkempt-looking man gazing down at her in perplexity.Amazingly, he's never heard of the Archive. She's never met a wizard completely ignorant of her function before.As she's dealing with this, he asks her something that no one has ever asked her--"What's your name?"She tries to explain to him that she has no name as he would know it, no identity aside from that of the Archive."I can't just call you the Archive," he says in a tone that brooks no argument. "You're not a thing.""What would you call me?" She doesn't expect much; she's run into people who dislike her title before, though they're the minority. One title, more or less, is of no concern to her.He surprises her. "Ivy."She sits very still, aware of the magnitude of what he's just done. With one word, he's given her an identity separate from that of the Archive, a degree of autonomy, a measure of human freedom. And not just any word, either, but one symbolically linked to friendship, loyalty, love and mystical powers."Why Ivy?" she asks faintly, wondering what he'll say. There has to be a link to her in the name, or the name won't take.He shrugs. "You know. Archive. Arch-ivy. Ivy."She almost laughs. Her new name stems from her old function. "Ivy" allows her to remain her old self and to become someone stronger and more human at the same time.The Council will have a collective fit.She finds she rather enjoys that image.She explains to him what she is and what she does, and is puzzled when he feels sorry for her. She's not accustomed to people looking at her and seeing her existence as difficult. She can't remember anyone reacting this way, not ever. It's an odd sensation.She tells him as much as she can about the duel, as well. More that she would normally tell duelists, to be honest. Normally "read your copy of the Accords" would suffice. But he is woefully ignorant, and it seems to be his first duel. So--to prevent it from being his last as well--she helps as best she can. And she considers herself well-paid when she gets to play with his giant kitty.She sees Harry once more at the abortive duel, where she kills a dozen or so Red Court vampires. After that, she doesn't see him again for years. But--to her surprise--the name of Ivy sticks. It isn't just a case of her calling herself that. Kincaid picks it up, too. Even the wizards who don't approve of the Archive having a name and an identity call her Ivy.Then, in her twelfth year, she and John Marcone are kidnapped by the Denarians. ***The first thing she notices is that Marcone doesn't react at all well to her being kidnapped and hurt. He is coldly, imperially furious, which baffles the Denarians no end. A crime lord, their expressions say, should be on their side.Unfortunately, Nicodemus learns all too quickly that the best way to break Marcone is to hurt her. Ivy sees the growing hatred in Marcone's eyes and wonders if Nicodemus grasps what an implacable enemy the crime lord would make.All the Denarians make a point of cutting Marcone and herself off from each other by shields and then torturing them, which makes touch impossible. And it's difficult, mid-agony, to turn and gaze at another human being.So Marcone uses his voice.Soft words, soothing words, words filled with authority and others choked with regret. She can't truly focus on what he is saying much of the time, but she clings to the sound of his voice like a lifeline.When the Denarians figure it out, they try to force him to scream loudly enough to damage his vocal cords permanently.He doesn't utter anything louder than a strangled gasp. Not even when one of them bites his ear in half.Then they tell him that they'll kill him and Ivy if he says one more word to her.He gazes at them, green eyes filled with amused contempt. "I'm sorry. Did you simply fail to grasp how hostage-taking works? We are not only of no value to you dead, but a considerable hindrance as well. Unless, of course, you think that Dresden is sane and would not pursue you to the ends of the earth, taking a pound of flesh from your bodies for every drop of the child's blood."They make him suffer badly for that...mostly because it's true.When they're done, their leader, Nicodemus--smiling and utterly reasonable--offers a bargain. They will leave her alone, he says, if Marcone will take up one of the coins.Marcone smiles in return, a gracious, regal expression that's an insult in itself. You don't really think you have a prayer of success, do you?Nicodemus withdraws then, alone with his guards, and Marcone speaks. "I would damn myself further by taking one of those accursed coins...if it would help. But I'm very much afraid that they would command me to kill you...and that once I had taken up the coin, I would revel in your murder." His eyes grow stern. "I will not permit a child to be destroyed through me."She starts weeping then, great ugly choking sobs. She knows that the Denarians don't truly care which of them takes a coin; she knows she can't permit herself to give in. But she never expected anyone to put her life before his own.That night she receives a message written by Harry. Not a physical letter, no. Since she is who she is, the words appear in her mind as he writes them down.Ivy,
You are not alone.
Kincaid is alive. I'm all right. We're coming after you.
Don't listen to them. Hang on.
We're coming.
You are not alone.
HarryThis is the point when she knows--knows down in her bones--that everything is going to be all right. Her bodyguard is alive. The man who named her is coming to get her and the man who's been protecting and comforting her.She manages to convey news of the imminent rescue to Marcone, and sees all too clearly the relief, the fear, and the determination not to hope too much."Promise me something," she says in a low voice. "Promise me that when we get off this island, you and me and Harry and Kincaid will go out and do something silly.""Silly?" She can almost see Marcone's eyebrows escalating."Yes. Silly. Something pleasurable. Nothing to do with magic or danger or death."He holds up one hand like the Boy Scout he surely never was. "I do so swear."***By the time the rescue party arrives, she is all but unconscious with pain. She doesn't truly wake again until she's safely ensconced in Sergeant Murphy's house and Harry walks into her bedroom.She wakes up sobbing, and flings herself at him.Harry hugs her tightly and strokes her hair--not realizing that he's the first person to do either. He doesn't lie and tell her that it's all right, or that it's going to be. He tells her that she will survive, which is a much more hopeful message.It takes time to heal. Her adopted fathers--so she's come to think of them--help. Kincaid starts teaching her unarmed combat. Marcone sends a perfectly enormous package to Edinburgh for her thirteenth birthday: a battery-powered record player and a large assortment of rock and roll, easy listening, heavy metal, industrial and show tunes. For Christmas, she gets a small fluffy black-and-white kitten in a cat carrier from Harry, along with a note that says, "For when you need something to love."The Council mutters about the need for an Archive to be emotionally detached. She ignores them. She's been apart and isolated all her life. Right now, it feels good to know that there are people who see her as a living person, people who want her to know that she's strong, and that there's still beauty and love in the world. Soppily sentimental, perhaps, but true.Not until the following summer does she contact Marcone about his promise. Two days later, she receives in the mail a map with a shop on North State Street circled. And under the circled name, an appointment time: 2:00 p.m. CDT. Since both the map and the appointment time, being written, are already a part of her mind, clearly both have been supplied for Kincaid's benefit.When she tells Kincaid that they have to be in Chicago on that Sunday to meet Marcone at Original Rainbow Cones, Kincaid is uncharacteristically silent for a minute. Then, "You're going all the way to Chicago to eat ice cream with Marcone?""No. I'm going all the way to Chicago to eat ice cream with John Marcone, Harry Dresden, and you.""I'm part of this deal?""Of course. Didn't you notice the date?"That earns her a startled smile.When Sunday rolls around, she and Kincaid walk down the Way from Edinburgh to Chicago proper. Marcone's black limo finds them two blocks later. The crime lord warns her that he cannot guarantee Harry's presence, though he did tell the wizard that Ivy specifically requested it. Ivy doesn't worry about it. Harry's curiosity will pull him to the ice cream place, if nothing else does.And she's right. He appears just as Ivy and the other two men are sitting down. And he has enough respect for the importance of ice cream not to question why Ivy's here in Chicago, or why she's eating with Marcone, or where the hell his bodyguards are concealed. Such things pale before the importance of chocolate, strawberry, Palmer House, pistachio and orange sherbet on a single cone.When the waitress finally gives them the bill, she asks a question as she lays it on the table. "Which one of you is the dad?"Ivy is silent. This is the reason she arranged to meet the three of them here on this particular Sunday in June. It's Father's Day. They do not think of themselves as her fathers, of course, but she wants them to know they matter...even if she isn't sure she can say that out loud.Harry glances at the other men, then smiles sunnily up at the waitress. "What, can't you tell? All three of us, of course!"Ivy watches incredulously as Marcone nods and Kincaid mutters gruffly, "Damn straight." She'd expected to tell them how she felt about them by asking them out on this particular day; she hadn't expected them to return the favour.She glances around the table at the half-demon merc, the battle-scarred wizard, the regal crime boss. Her family. Her impossible glorious family that apparently adopted her, in defiance of all logic and all custom, when she wasn't looking. And she knows she needs to say something about how wonderful this is right now before the moment is lost.For a moment, she struggles. She has never told another person that she loves him in her life, and just saying it baldly doesn't seem to be enough.Then she thinks of a way of saying it that combines love, admiration and thanks. Yes. Perhaps that might work."My three fathers," she says, lifting her water tumbler as if it were a flute of champagne. "And may I take after them in every way."
|
43325
|
Waltzing
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Londo Mollari, G'Kar",
"Fandom": "Babylon 5",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Rebecca",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-01-02T00:00:00",
"words": "1,011",
"Additional Tags": "Banter, Dancing, Humor",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "New Year's Resolution 2010",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
When the first measures of music started, slow and low as if the piece itself was unsure about the whole project, G'Kar bowed and stretched out his hand towards Londo. His attempt at being graceful was somewhat ruined by the typically sturdy Narn apparel, which he was not willing to replace, and by the sour expression on his face."Great Maker, this is ridiculous." Londo exclaimed, gesturing exuberantly, but ignoring G'Kar's outstretched hand."I didn't deem it possible, but finally, we agree on something, Mollari." G'Kar intoned dramatically. "It can't be a good sign, the universe must be about to explode.""Do we really have to do this?" Londo asked."I'm afraid so." G'Kar said and focused on the matter at hand. "You are supposed to give me your hand, Mollari." he instructed and tried to grab Londo's arm.Londo jumped back. "All right, all right! Do you always have to be so impatient? This is a very delicate affair!""And do you always have to make a scene about everything?" G'Kar countered, then he grinned maliciously. "Or are you afraid of me?"Londo straightened. "I am not! No Centauri is ever afraid of a Narn!" He took one step forward and placed his hand carefully inside G'Kars, as if fearing to burn himself."You have to put your other hand on my shoulder." G'Kar said."Your shoulder? How odd." Then Londo eyed the Narn sceptically. "You are not having me on, no?""I wouldn't dream of it, Mollari." G'Kar said solemnly. "This is exactly what Ivanova has shown me.""Really." Londo said, somewhat mollified, and tried the position G'Kar had proposed. "It feels strange." He shifted a bit to make himself more comfortable. "What now?""Now we dance.""Yes, I figured that already, thank you." Londo erupted. "But how? As I understand, there must be some sort if instructions, yes? Some rules or required steps.""Well, as Ivanova told me, it goes like this: One, two, three, four, five, six." With these words, G'Kar dragged the Centauri unceremoniously across the room. "One, two, three, four, five, six.""Ouch!" Londo cried, bringing them both to a halt."What is it?""You are trampling on my feet, you clumsy Narn! It hurts! And it's ruining my new shoes!""And I thought it was something important." G'Kar noted dryly. "Steel yourself, Mollari! Be a man!""I am a man!" Londo huffed. "But, bless the Great Maker, we Centauri are not as thick-skinned as you are. And we do not wear such heavy boots." He looked down at the offending garments indignantly. Then he contemplated. "We must be doing something wrong. It looked different when Sheridan and Delenn were dancing on their wedding. Let's try again!"They stumbled off."One, two, three, four, five, six..." G'Kar counted."No, no, no!" Londo interrupted.G'Kar sighed exasperatedly. "What is it now, Mollari?""You must listen to the beat of the music!""I don't hear any beat in that... music.""Knowing what passes for music on your planet, I'm not surprised! What is this music, anyway?""It is called 'An der schönen blauen Donau'." G'Kar said in his best lecturer voice."What? What's that supposed to mean?""I think it's an Earth dialect. Chinese or some such. In English, it is called 'The Blue Danube'.""A blue danube? Isn't that an animal?" Londo frowned.G'Kar shrugged."Who names a dance after an animal? And a blue one at that! Well, anyhow. Let me count this time.""Why?" G'Kar said abrasively. "You always want to be in authority, Mollari, don't you!"Londo rolled his eyes. "Of course I do. But as it happens," he gestured at the entertainment system with a flourish, "I am the one who is able to hear the beat in the music."G'Kar just snorted."Ready?" Londo asked, placing his hand back on G'Kar's shoulder. "One, two, three, four, five, six..."They started off once more, this time a bit more coordinated."See?" Londo said. "I think it's getting better.""Yes." G'Kar admitted, albeit grudgingly.They danced some more, and it actually started to look like dancing. The music grew more confident as well."I think we are 'getting the hang of it', as the humans say." G'Kar finally announced."Yes." Londo agreed. "Although I have to say, it's starting to bore me.""How so? I am actually beginning to find it quite amusing.""This human dance is just not very... satisfying.""Satisfying?""Well, when we Centauri dance, there are women involved. Lots of women. And most importantly, we don't restrict ourselves to pairs. Why would one do such a thing?"G'Kar snorted."And then," Londo continued, oblivious to the Narn's disapproval, "we would use our... attributes to...""Stop it, Mollari!" G'Kar interrupted. "That is an image I can happily live without, thank you very much.""Really? And I thought you might be enjoying the Centauri dance." Londo waggled his waist provokingly."No, certainly not! Mollari, don't you have any dignity?""You Narn are just prudish." Londo retorted. "Although, I know a certain Narn who was not too prudish to sleep with my wife.""Mollari!" G'Kar growled dangerously.Londo shrugged, unperturbed. "Well then, tell me. How do the Narn dance?""We don't dance.""Oh? But what do you do, then? There must be some social activities, yes?" Londo prodded."We fight.""How barbaric. But then, maybe not really surprising. After all...""Mollari, can't you just keep quiet for a while?" G'Kar interrupted. "I'm trying to concentrate on this dance, which is a really hard thing to do when you keep rattling on like that.""Why? Mariel told me you liked your Centauri to be vocal."G'Kar grew dark beneath his spots. "One last time, Mollari...""Fine, fine." Londo said pacifyingly. "But under one condition: I get to show you that Centauri dance later." Seeing G'Kar's glare, he added, "In privacy.""Pah, you wish." G'Kar huffed, but a curious sparkle in his eyes belied the gruff tone in his voice.From then on, they danced in silence, until the music came to its triumphant conclusion.
|
82200
|
Sensing Danger
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg",
"Fandom": "The Sentinel",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by JaneDavitt",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-04-23T00:00:00",
"words": "566",
"Additional Tags": "Humor, Banter",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "852 Prospect Archive, Artifact Storage Room 3",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Sensing Danger"Sandburg, do sentinels have their sixth sense enhanced, too?" Jim asked with his best innocent look.Blair looked like his birthday had arrived early. His eyes brightened and he jumped up from his position on the floor where he'd been meditating and stinking up the loft with candles. Even the unscented ones still smelled of wax and flame to Jim. It made his nose itch."Seriously? You're manifesting symptoms of ESP? Tell me all about it." He snapped his fingers. "Or wait, no, it doesn't have to be that. We talk about the five senses, but really there are a lot more than the ones Aristotle came up with." Warming to his subject as Jim, frustrated, tried to interrupt, Blair perched on the arm of the couch Jim was occupying and began to tick them off on his fingers. "We've got equilibrioception, or to you, the sense of balance, then there's the sense of pain, awareness of time and temperature changes… I'm guessing all of those are enhanced, too, but I've been so busy concentrating on the main ones that I've overlooked them." Blair tsked, shaking his head. "Never mind; we'll change that.""Chief --""And what about the senses that animals have that humans don't?" Blair gazed at Jim with a hungry, speculative expression on his face. "Do you think you're electroreceptive?""If that involves using me to get extra cable channels, forget it," Jim said, standing up in a huff and heading for the kitchen. The sense of pain? His head was filled with images of Blair poking at him with a pin. He didn't want to go anywhere near those tests. "And forget about experimenting on me, too," he added."But, Jim!" Blair was pouting; even with his back turned, Jim could tell. "Hey, man, you're the one who brought the subject up, not me."Jim paused on his way to the fridge. "I was joking," he said, goaded into honesty. "I was going to say that I could sense you were about to offer to get me a beer, because I just didn't feel like getting up, okay?"Blair frowned. "Why would I do that? I drank the last one while you were in the shower."Jim made a sound like a wounded elephant, despairing, frustrated, maddened and saw Blair's satisfied smirk out of the corner of his eyes."I'm really sensing something now," Jim said ominously."What would that be?""Me kicking you out."Blair's mouth drooped, his eyes losing their sparkle. "I know it's been a month and I said a week, but I thought we were getting along just fine."Jim sighed. God, the kid got to him every time when he did the wistfully pleading thing. Totally put-on, and they both knew it, but it still worked. "I'm kicking you out so that you can buy some more beer, Sandburg," he clarified."Oh!" Blair beamed at him. "Sure thing, Jim." He bit his lip. "Umm, spot me a twenty?"It didn't take a sixth sense to know that it was twenty dollars he'd never see again, but Jim handed it over anyway. With Blair out of the way for a while, he could open the windows and air the place out before the storm he could feel approaching hit. It was some fifty miles away now, making his skin tingle and the back of his neck sweat…
|
52874
|
Marry Me
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Urameshi Yuusuke, Yukimura Keiko",
"Fandom": "幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by anaraine",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2007-05-12T00:00:00",
"words": "810",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff",
"Relationship": "Urameshi Yuusuke/Yukimura Keiko",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
"Don't think I've forgotten about what you did," Keiko commented roughly, tearing her elbow out of Yuusuke's light grip, quickening her gait as she attempted to loose him in the crowd.No such luck."What I did?" The toushin questioned, bewilderment clearly evident on his features, making him look cute enough that Keiko almost forgave him. Almost."If you don't remember, don't expect me to inform you." She slipped between an elderly couple, efficiently evading Yuusuke for a few seconds."Keiko! Wait, dammit!"He cringed inwardly. Crude language wasn't exactly the best way to get her to tell him what was wrong - there was now a 75 percent chance that she'd slap him and scurry off in the other direction. To his surprise, she stopped, and hung her head. Salt stung his senses...she was crying?"Keiko..." he tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder, and she spun around, her chocolate eyes glittering with unshed tears in the light of the setting sun."Don't give me that," she hissed, while wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her long blouse, "If you think you can go out with Botan, and then come back to me, mere hours later, you've got another thing coming Urameshi."The usage of his last name stung, but it took him a second for her words to sink in."...with Botan?" he questioned stupidly.Keiko grit her teeth and resisted the urge to scream, stamping her foot on the pavement and turning in the other direction. There was only so much she could take in one day. To have seen the blue-haired deity and Yuusuke together in that jewelry shop had been the last straw, and she was surprised with herself for holding out for so long already. Just a year ago she would've slapped him senseless and left, but now...Yuusuke was currently searching his memories for what he'd done that day, which had been basically nil except for..."Keiko!" But his brown-eyed childhood friend was already a few yards away from him. "Keiko! Botan was helping me!"Much to his annoyance, she continued in the same direction, not even giving him a second glance. Pushing his way through the crowd, inadvertently using a bit of his demonic speed without thinking, he'd caught up with her, his arms snaking around her waist as he came to whisper in her ear."If you'd listen to me for just a second..."Keiko whipped around, intent on leaving a burning handprint on his cheek, but missed entirely as he dropped to one knee and took her hand."Keiko, marry me."She froze, strangely similar to a deer caught in headlights."W-what?""I know I've kept you waiting, and even despite that, you've always been there for me. No matter what happened. You don't have to wait any longer, Keiko, marry me."Keiko's throat went dry, "B-but..."One of Yuusuke's hands dropped to his pocket, and he withdrew a small black box with gold filigree, and Keiko took a sharp breath. The box was the one she'd seen Botan holding in the jewelry shop. Had she made a serious misinterpretation of the scene she'd witnessed? If Yuusuke was asking her to marry him..."Make me the happiest man alive Keiko, marry me," Yuusuke's soft voice reached her ears, and her eyes widened as he opened the box and displayed a delicate gold ring which, inlaid with a small ribbon of diamonds, stood proudly in the center. A ring that she'd pointed out to Botan once, commenting that it was one of the better rings in the store, neither too large or gaudy, nor overly expensive, when it came to rings, anyhow."But...Yuusuke...""Marry me, please." Yuusuke spoke, his voice almost pained, and Keiko's reluctance only further added to his worry.Sensing his unease, her eyes slowly began to water, the truth of what had happened earlier that day becoming painstakingly clear, tears gathering in her eyes. "Yes, Yuusuke. I'll marry you."A wide grin split his face as he took the ring from it's velvet container, sliding the ring onto her finger as she continued to stare, her dreams becoming a reality. He rose to his feet, taking her lips in a chaste kiss, his hands coming together at the small of her back, lifting her into the air as she gave a small squeak.Soft 'aww's and clapping brought the new couple back to reality, looking around them in surprise. Apparently they'd had an audience, as the crowd that normally flooded the sidewalk had surrounded them in a wide circle, smiling with the remembrance of love.Keiko blushed vibrantly as Yuusuke let out a soft chuckle, depositing her back onto her feet, but not before announcing his devotion in a not-so-quiet stage whisper."I love you, Keiko."She blushed again, but replied softly, "I love you too."
|
32618
|
Fearless and Full of Joy
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Levade",
"chapters": "2/2",
"completed": "2013-08-18",
"published": "2003-06-25T00:00:00",
"words": "2,641",
"Additional Tags": "Glorfindel as a child, Of course he was cute!, Horses, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Glorfindel returning to Middle-earth, hard decisions, fathers and sons, LLF Comment Project",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": "Glorfindel",
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "The Silmarillion - Tolkien, Lord of the Rings - Tolkien",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
"Glorfindel was tall and straight; his hair was of shining gold, his face fair and young and fearless and full of joy; his eyes were bright and keen, and his voice like music; on his brow sat wisdom, and in his hand was strength."
~J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
~*~*~
"Hmm...now where did I leave that son of mine?" Ránevaryar looked around his study, pursing his lips to keep from smiling as his cloak, draped over the window seat, quivered ever so slightly, and a muffled giggle issued from it. "Ion-nín...," he called, looking under his desk. "Where is my little golden ray? Did I lose him?" He made a tsk'ing noise. "I hope not, for his Amil will be quite angry if I have!"
Turning as he heard rustling, he saw there was no longer a elfling-shaped lump under his cloak, and so lifted a corner to peek where a cushion stuck out. "Laurefinde?"
The patter of bare feet on the wood floor had him turning again, golden eyebrows drawing down in a confused expression. "Where could he be? I know he was in here but a moment ago..." Opening a deep drawer in his desk, he peered into the dim interior. "Hallo? Ion-nín?"
Giggles from behind the long, draped curtains called forth a smile and he was glad a long swath of hair was hiding his face. Straightening, and sitting back in his large chair, the elf sighed woefully. "I shall miss him. He was such a good son...and I did promise to go to the stables today..."
"Atar!"
Ránevaryar turned just in time to catch the elfling who flung himself at his father. Golden hair fell into the child's round face, bright blue eyes merry with glee as he threw his arms around his father and grinned. "Here I am, Atar!"
"Laurefinde!" Cuddling the child, he chuckled and stroked the soft hair that almost exactly matched the colour of his own braids. "Have you been off on adventures, Ion-nín?"
"Yes!" The boy nodded in exuberant glee. "I climbed all the way to the top of the tallest mountain and touched a star!"
Ránevaryar raised his eyebrows to show how impressed he was. "That is indeed high, golden ray. You were not frightened?"
"No," Laurefinde scoffed. "I can fly, so why should I fear falling?"
"Ah..." Combing his son's hair out of his face, and tucking it behind tiny leaf-shaped ears, the elf leaned closer, whispering. "How is it you can fly?"
Blue eyes crinkling as he grinned, Laurefinde tilted his head. "If I told you, you might try and fly away." The smile faded as suddenly as it had blossomed. "And I should be sad."
"Laurefinde..." Gazing tenderly at the child in his lap, Ránevaryar caressed his cheek with a finger. "I will never leave you." He tapped the tiny nose, smiling as his son scrunched it up. "Never. Though I should miss you horribly if you went to live on a star..."
"Then I shall not..." An jaunty grin replaced his solemn mood. "Though I do wish to see everything, Atar!" Bouncing slightly with the irrepressible energy that seemed to glow about him, Laurefinde fingered his father's tunic and the fine gold embroidery. "But I cannot until I am as tall as you." He pursed a lip, tracing over the embroidery decorating his father's tunic, little fingers a bit grubby from an earlier exploration of a loose floorboard and what was underneath. The gold threads glittered in the sun shining in through the window, outlining the brilliant white stag that he had been told was the 'pattern' of his father's house. It didn't make sense, but then a lot of things adults said made no sense to Laurefinde. "I will not leave until you and Amil shall not be sad when I go."
Heart melting again for this child who was so energetic, so loving, Ránevaryar swept him up against his chest, cuddling him, and kissing the golden hair. "Then I fear you would never leave, little ray...for we will never wish to be parted from you."
"Even when I'm bad?" Wriggling to push himself back to look at his father, Laurefinde gnawed on his bottom lip, recalling how upset his parents had been with him, only days before. "Like when you said not to jump into the deeper part of the lake and I did?" He never meant to do things that got him in trouble...but there were so many things to see! So many things to explore!
The memory of his tiny son perched on the tallest of the rocks surrounding the lake, waving to his father and mother before leaping fearlessly into the water below, only to hit the water in what had looked to be a terribly painful belly-flop, Ránevaryar closed his eyes. "You might have injured yourself, Laurefinde. There are sharp rocks that you cannot see from above, which live in those waters."
He really should have been watching more carefully. Their youngest son was a bit of a non-stop whirlwind, and delighted in trying to do everything his elder brother did. Laurefinde was fearless as yet, though Ránevaryar and his wife both hoped the boy would learn some caution. He was so merry, and always seemed to brighten the very room, it was hard to stay stern with him for long. His heart seemed as golden as the hair on his head, and yet they feared his very nature would cause problems later in his life.
"They did not bite me, Atar." There was a touch of defiance in the elfling's tone, and his mouth was set in a stubborn line as he watched his father for a reaction.
Ránevaryar caught his son's chin gently between his fingers, meeting the challenge in his son's blue eyes, his own expression serene. "Laurefinde, when I ask you not to do something, it is because I am trying to keep you from getting hurt." He ruffled the child's hair, smiling gently. "Not simply to keep you from something your brother can do. He is older, Ion-nín. When you are older, you shall do those things as well."
Eyebrows drawing down into a tiny frown, pouting slightly, the child thumped his small fist against his father's chest, just once. "I do not like waiting, Atar."
"I know you do not." Ránevaryar fought the laughter that wanted to burble forth, knowing it would highly insult his son. "We all must wait for something, Laurefinde."
"You do not have to!" Laurefinde scowled, impatiently pushing a bit of hair that always seemed to want to hang in his face.
"Indeed, I do." He stood, switching his hold so that his son was held in one arm, freeing up the other. Bending, he brushed his nose against his son's, batting eyelashes as the boy giggled. "I cannot spend all my time with you, your brother and your mother, and I would dearly love to do so."
"You are here now!" Laurefinde cuddled against his father, winding little arms around his neck for a fierce hug. "And we are going to the stables, are we not?"
Grinning at the hopeful light shining in the blue eyes, Ránevaryar nodded. "Indeed we are!" Bending, pushing his son back a bit to shift him to his back, he gave one small hop to be certain the boy was holding on tightly. Laurefinde clung trustingly, arms around his father's neck, giggling. "Hang on, Ion-nín! First, we must find your boots, and then..."
"The stables!"
The strength of the cry hurt his ears, but it was hard to find fault with his son's enthusiasm, even as he winced. No doubt everyone in the House now knew precisely where father and son were going.
~*~*~
This was one of his favourite places to go. There were horses, the smell of leather and hay, boxes of blankets and feed to poke into and smell, and so many wonderful places to climb up and hide! Laurefinde drummed his heels against his father's sides in excitement, until his feet were held. "Laurefinde..."
Giggling, the boy lunged forward, burying his face in his father's golden mane. "You are not a horse, so do not treat you as one!" It was something he had been told many times.
Shaking his head in amusement, Ránevaryar gave a pretend bouncing buck, earning another round of giggles in his hair. Kneeling down, he let go of the boy's legs and felt the child scramble from his back. "Shall we ride Súrion today?"
Blue eyes wide with excitement, Laurefinde hopped in place. "Oh..please!"
Ruffling his son's hair as he smiled, Ránevaryar nodded to one of the stable hands who came forward upon seeing him. "We'll be fine on our own today, thank you." The lad nodded, smiling for the pair and continued on to his duties. Hearing an impatient whinny, Ránevaryar laughed. "It looks as though Súrion is impatient to go as well."
Father and son walked out to a fenced paddock, a sprawling pasture, large enough for an energetic herd of horses to run over hills, roll in green grass and graze in the shade of numerous large trees. There was even a lake where some of the horses took great pleasure in rolling in the mud like great, wallowing swine.
A white stallion was standing at the gate to his paddock, head turned towards them, watching alertly, eyes bright. He neighed, shaking his head as they approached, sending the long white forelock flying into his eyes.
Laurefinde skipped up and stood before the gate, grinning at the horse, who was much, much larger than he. "Good day, Súrion!"
Lowering his head, the stallion gently snuffled the child's hand and hair, holding still as the boy's little hands sought to scratch the spots that felt so good...and he could never reach, even when rubbing his head against the trees. Whuffing in what sounded like a horsy laugh, Súrion only bowed his proud neck a bit more as the child wrapped arms as high as he could and hugged the stallion.
"How is my proud one today?" Patting a gleaming white shoulder, Ránevaryar combed his fingers through the wind-tangled mane, pulling out bits of dried grass.
With one last gentle nudge for the elfling, the stallion raised his head and butted it against the older elf, rubbing up and down against the blue tunic until there was a sufficient amount of white hairs left upon the garment.
Grimacing in mock disgust, Ránevaryar gently pushed the animal's head away. "Yes, yes, and you managed to slobber on my son's head, I see. Now that we're all marked as yours may we enter?"
Snorting and tossing his head, the stallion turned and moved away from the gate, swishing his tail twice. Just enough to catch the elf as he bent to unlatch the gate.
Laurefinde giggled and darted inside the paddock, hopping from foot to foot in impatience as he waited for his father to finish re-fastening the gate. As soon as that was done, he marched towards the stallion, who waited with what looked like bemused patience. "Some day...," the child told the horse, though he stood no taller than the animal's chest. "...I shall be able to ride you all by myself, and not need to be lifted up!" He wrapped his arms as far as he could around the white leg nearest, little hands barely reaching the stallion's shoulder. "I love you, Súrion."
Ránevaryar shook his head, smiling at the sight of the stallion bowing his head to snuffle the elfling's back. He laughed as the horse lipped the back of Laurefinde's tunic, catching the fabric in his teeth, and gently tugged the giggling child backwards. "I think he wants to run today, Ion-nín. What do you say to that?"
Swatting gently at the stallion, who snorted and lifted his head out of reach, Laurefinde nodded, brushing his hair out of his face. "Yes!" He held his hands up, giving a hum of joy as his father caught him under the arms and swung him up on the wide white back of the stallion. Laurefinde patted the muscled shoulder beneath his leg and wound his hand in the long white mane. A moment later, his father lightly leaped up behind him, wrapping strong arms around his waist.
Súrion only waited a moment to be sure they were secure before breaking into a smooth trot. When he was of a mind, the stallion could trot hard enough to rattle his rider's teeth. Today though, he moved as though he was made of wind, hooves barely touching the ground in a tap-tap-tap rhythm that matched the ung-ung-ung sound the elfling was making.
Once they were clear of the trees though, the stallion broke into a gallop, stretching out to run for the sheer joy of flying.
"Woooooo!" Laurefinde unwound his hand from the white mane, and raised his arms, confident in his balance and the hold his father had around his waist that he would not fall. "We're flying, Atar! Flying!"
Súrion raced his shadow across the hills, the laughter of the boy and his father giving the stallion wings as he ran. His white mane and tail caught the wind, mixing with the golden hair of his riders, until they were only a golden-white blur against the emerald green of the grass.
Flying as they raced the wind.
~*~*~
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Atar?”Ránevaryar turned and paused at the sight of his son walking towards him. “Laure…” He sighed and shook his head. “I cannot get used to it.”“Then don’t.” Glorfindel walked over to lean against the paddock fence, and looked out over the green grass and the white horses grazing there. “I will forever be two people, I think. Laurefinde, who grew up here, and raced the shadows, and Glorfindel, who …” “Who is rightfully lauded as a hero, and whom I am proud to call son.”Glorfindel looked at his father then. Met his gaze and held it. He saw the truth of the words, felt the unspoken regrets and longing for something Glorfindel had long ago forgotten. Forgiven. He smiled, mouth quirking. “Damned fool, more like. Ecthelion told me to tie my hair back.” Ránevaryar reached out to grasp his shoulder. “I am proud of you. I always have been, even when I did not agree with you.”“Amil cried.” Glorfindel bowed his head, forced to wait until the ache eased enough for him to continue speaking. “I made her cry.”“She doesn’t wish for you to leave again. Nor do I.” Glorfindel looked up. He didn’t want to argue, or try to persuade his father to his point of view. He wanted to soak in being home, and being with those he loved before he left again. “But you are as determined in this as before. Ah, my bright one.” Ránevaryar pulled his son closer, resting his forehead against Glorfindel’s for a moment before hugging him fiercely. “There is a destiny in this, in you, that I cannot deny, despite what I want to say. You always were fearless.”Something that had been sharp in him, had been cold and frozen as the Helcaraxe, loosened and broke. Glorfindel eased back from his father. Let the moment hold. Let it pass, and he could breathe again. “Do you remember when I told you I could fly?”Ránevaryar nodded. “I do. You were worried your amil and I would fly away if you told me how.”“I will come back.” Glorfindel knew that with no uncertainty. Felt it in his bones. This was home. But he was as certain that he had to leave. Had known it from the moment he spoke with Eärendil. “You will.” Ránevaryar met his gaze. “And we will be here for you.”Glorfindel smiled.
|
70323
|
Not Just a Job
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Stargate SG-1",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by cofax",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-03-13T00:00:00",
"words": "237",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": null,
"Character": "Daniel Jackson",
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
There's a legend among the people of Kintalla -- PSF-something-with-sevens-in-it -- about four-winged angels. Daniel can't remember the precise translation, but it was something about the angels sweeping in before a big storm, slamming closed the doors to animal pens and storage sheds, tearing the ancestors' flags in warning.SG-1 could have used the advance notice; but then they're not on PSF-whatever-it-was. Instead they're huddled in the only shelter for miles, a decrepit and thankfully ancient byre -- "Sheep," Sam suggested, but Daniel repeated "goats," firmly and without a whisper of nostalgia -- hunched against the water dripping into their clothes and hoping the low roof won't collapse on top of them.Jack is, improbably, asleep, head leaned back against the shuddering wall, P-90 across his boots. Sam is pressed close between Daniel and Teal'c, her eyes a little too wide. They turned off the lantern, as the near-constant flashes of lightning provide enough light to see by, anyway. If there were anything to see. Which there is not.Except, possibly, for the small cream-colored animal in the corner. Which hasn't moved since they stumbled through the door, Teal'c first, weapons up. Daniel's not sure it's not dead, but every once in a while, Teal'c swears, it blinks at them.Life in the SGC is a never-ending adventure, Daniel decides. See the universe! Meet new peoples! Save the world!Spend six hours crouching in old, wet, goat shit. END
|
13118
|
No Penguins Were Harmed
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by misspamela",
"chapters": "1/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2009-11-16T00:00:00",
"words": "455",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Arthur Dent/Ford Prefect",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
They were lying on the floor in some bar. No, under a bar. Under was probably the best word, even though it might be more accurate to say that the bar was huffing about somewhere in the vicinity of the ceiling and throwing them nasty looks. Arthur couldn't remember what they'd done to warrant such treatment, but he also couldn't remember how they got on the floor, or, for that matter, what planet they were currently on."Guide," he mumbled to Ford, who was giggling at an irate penguin on the dance floor."No, wait," Ford announced. "I have an idea." Ford dragged them over to a small, dark alcove that smelled faintly of olive oil and licorice. "Arthur," he said, pushing a very intent finger into Arthur's shoulder, "what do you think about sex?""Well," Arthur said, after some thought. "I rather approve, I suppose. Providing that the two parties share some sort of affection and - ""Great!" Ford hugged him and started to take off his coat."What on Earth are you doing?""We're not on Earth," Ford reminded him from under his shirt. "I'm thinking that hey, Arthur's a hoopy frood and we�"" he imitated Arthur's pained tone "�"'share some affection', so, hey. Shouldn't you be taking your robe off?""You want to have sex with me?""Why not?" Ford carefully laid his towel on the floor, and, with an affectionate pat, laid Arthur's towel on top of it."Well, you can't just �" people do, of course, but there are usually, I don't know, accoutrements to the romance process, and…what planet are we on again?""Sverixndel Eight." Ford untied the belt of Arthur's robe. "Accoutrements? Are those the things with the leather and the spiky whatnots?""No! Like Flowers and dinner and 'I'll call you.'""Yeah? I thought you just rubbed the relevant bits together until everyone went home sticky and happy.""Well, if you want to be, ah, simple-minded, ah…" Arthur fumbled around for his train of thought, which seemed to be happily derailing as a direct result of the creative things that Ford was doing with his hands. "Ah," Arthur said again, because it seemed like a really simple word."Listen, this part usually goes better if you get involved," Ford suggested."What? Right, sorry." Arthur remembered a few creative things to do with his hands as well."Brilliant," Ford smiled.Several moments later, they stumbled out of the alcove. Dodging the penguin, a creature that seemed to be made out of latex and metal studs, and the exploding green glowy bottles that the bar rained down on their heads, they managed to get back to the Heart of Gold with a minimum of damage to themselves or their towels.
|
46627
|
Ties
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Invisible Man",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Michelle Christian (movies_michelle)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-01-06T00:00:00",
"words": "1,114",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Darien Fawkes/Bobby Hobbes",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
A man by the name of Tennyson once wrote, "A mastiff dog may love a puppy cur for no more reason than that the twain have been tied up together."Now, I'd never call Bobby Hobbes a puppy cur--at least not to his face—but there were definite similarities at times.*"Fawkes," Hobbes whispered, in that way people do sometimes when they're not sure whether or not they want the other person to be awake.Darien grunted, hoping Hobbes would take the hint and let him sleep."Fawkes, do you like me?"Apparently, their "well-oiled machine" was rusty in places."Hobbes, please, can we talk tomorrow?" Darien pled, pulling the blankets further up."You think I'm good looking?""Yes, Bobby," Darien said into his pillow. "You're the prettiest girl in school."Bobby didn't say anything else, which Darien should have been grateful for, but made his half-asleep mind uneasy enough to keep it from finishing the journey. He rolled over, throwing an arm and leg across Hobbes casually. Not cuddling."You have this big bed and you have to always take up most of my half," Bobby fake-groused, enough affection in his voice to make Darien relax. If Hobbes was bitching at him, he was okay.He was just drifting back to sleep when he heard, "Fawkes, I'm funny, right?"Darien groaned into Bobby's chest. He was obviously not going to sleep any time soon. "Yeah, you're a regular Yakov Smirnoff," he said, propping himself up on one arm and looking down at a pensive Bobby Hobbes. "Pensive" and "Bobby Hobbes" were never good in the same sentence. "What's going on, partner?"Bobby rubbed his hand against Darien's arm, but didn't look at him, just continued to lay in the moonlight, his left arm arranged under his head. "Just thinking," he said.Darien smiled at him, conspiratorially. "Thinking? Always a dangerous prospect with Bobby Hobbes."Bobby smiled, though it was slight; he still wouldn't look at Darien. "You got that right, my friend. Criminals of the world: beware."Darien grinned, but when Bobby didn't say any more, he nudged him with his knee. "Hey, what's going on?" He'd been assured that persistence was one of his more annoying traits."Would--" Bobby cut himself off, then looked at him for the first time since Darien woke up. "Would you be here if it weren't for the gland?"Darien looked at him, puzzled. "I'm pretty sure your doorman would let me in, visible or not.""Not here, Einstein," Bobby said, and waved his hand at the bed, the room, the two of them, the world at large. "Here."Oh.Oh.Part of Darien was surprised this hadn't come sooner than four months into this new aspect of their relationship. Bobby Hobbes's track record with relationships wasn't the greatest--and was a bit daunting, in fact. Bobby's neuroses seemed to have neuroses, but Darien had figured he lived with the best and worst of his partner already, so adding sex couldn't do anything but add another thing in the good column. He'd been just as surprised as anyone, though, when he turned out to be right.But Darien had also never seen this coming. Bobby had his issues--and the pharmaceuticals to go with them--but insecurity had never seemed to be one of them."Hey," he said softly, nudging Hobbes again with his knee. "How could I say no to Bobby Hobbes?"Bobby smiled back, leaning up to kiss him. "Thanks, kid." He laid back down, as if settling in for the night.Yet Darien knew he'd said the wrong thing, taken a wrong turn somehow and missed the point. He laid there, wide-awake now, and thought seriously about Bobby's question.Would he be with Bobby if it weren't for the gland?On the broader spectrum, he wouldn't even know Bobby if it weren't for the gland: not a lot of times where a two-bit burglar and a government agent meet up, certainly not in a friendly manner.On the narrower one, the one he knew Hobbes was talking about, Darien had to admit that there were a lot of reasons it was just easier to be with Bobby. For one thing, he didn't have to worry about the inevitable embarrassing lack of visibility during moments of adrenaline highs. Which didn't explain why he wasn't with, say, Claire, other than that Claire was more like a sister, and also still scared him a little.Like a sister.Bobby knew most, though not all, of his secrets, and had never turned away from him. Bobby had stood by him, protected him and trusted him. That went a long way. It explained why they were friends, but did it really answer the question Bobby was asking? Because Darien knew it wasn't just about why he was here.Did you come here because of the gland? Bobby would never actually ask. Where will you be when you get your fondest birthday wish, and the gland is gone?That was the real question, and Darien wasn't sure how to answer it in a way that he could voice and Bobby would accept.Darien was man enough to admit, at least to himself, that Bobby wasn't who he would have gone for, BG (Before the Gland), but that didn't change the fact that Bobby was, well, Bobby: attractive, crazy, loyal, irritating as hell, and the best thing in Darien's psychotic world.So, yeah, what happened when Darien's world stopped being psychotic? Would there still be room in it for Bobby Hobbes, when it was big enough to encompass more than just the two of them?The thing about their relationship was that it wasn't so much complex as Escher-esque: intricate, maddening, and dizzying, with patterns and perspectives that seemed to change, but never did. People on the outside of it seemed alternately amused, fascinated, and annoyed by it, which was okay, since Darien felt the same way from the inside, at times.At this point, Darien didn't know if he could extricate Bobby from his life; he knew he didn't want to. Bobby was in him deeper than any gland could ever be.How to say that to Bobby, though, and make sure he understood? Darien decided the best thing he could do was what they always did: trust each other to get it.So he rolled over and stuck his cold feet on Bobby's, enjoying the flinch and muffled "Hey!" (as always), and put his arm over his partner's side again. Still not cuddling."I'll be here," he said softly into Bobby's ear.Bobby said nothing, but reached for one of his hands and squeezed.He got it.-30-
|
23189
|
The First Three Minutes
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Heroes - Fandom",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by anonymous_sibyl",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2007-05-06T00:00:00",
"words": "1,191",
"Additional Tags": "Character of Color",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": "Mohinder Suresh",
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
We are all made of stars. Some among us, those who can do great and terrible things, can be thought of as containing more, enough bits of star to give life or take it. It's as good an explanation as any other. It may be the only one we ever have.* * *"Good morning, Dr. Suresh.""Good morning." I don't know her name. I think of her in my mind as Assistant Number Five, but that is based upon her position behind the desk that once belonged to Maureen, my first assistant, and the only one I hired myself. Everyone since has more properly borne the title of Special Agent and reports to those who control Mr. Parkman, not to me.At first I bridled against it, angry at the control exerted over me, a true homo sapiens sapiens, but they are all organized and efficient, and Number Three made wonderful strong tea. Five tries but she has yet to discover the correct brewing time and often gets tea leaves in my brew. There are days I'm tempted to read the leaves as the old women do. How farfetched is that sort of magic in the world in which we live?"Doctor?" She presses a cup of tea into my hands and studies my face. "Are you feeling well?""I'm fine." I expect she'll be gone within the week. Concern for anything other than my productivity is frowned upon. I make a mental note to purchase those vile tea bags for when I am too busy to brew a proper pot as I would at home and have no one to do it for me. "Is the lab ready?"She answers in the affirmative and I am unsurprised. My rituals are important to me and this small exchange of words is one of the few moments of genuine contact I have. I am no longer fool enough to believe that I will ever meet a true friend, one who approaches me not thinking to gain favor from Mohinder Suresh, savior or destroyer of the human race.I finish my tea in my office while reading over yesterday's results. No breakthroughs, no setbacks, simply a steady progression. I tidy things, rinsing my tea cup in the breakroom sink before donning my coat and entering the lab. It is as if I am a person of some importance, the way my name spreads among the lab assistants. There is one voice that catches my attention."Thomas. How are you feeling?""Well, thank you, Dr. Suresh. I'm glad to be back.""Good, good."My lab has an unusually high rate of illness. Any other lab would be shut down while potential health code violations were investigated, but we know we have excellent controls and safety measures in place. Illness is merely what we call it when one of us gets too close to asking questions that are frowned upon by the government.I, of course, am exempt from those week long interrogations culminating in a visit to the Haitian man an his terrifying power. At least I think I am. I suppose I would have no way of truly knowing.I wonder if he will be allowed the option to take the cure if we ever discover it. His mutation makes him valuable to those in power.The Haitian has pinpoint accuracy but occasionally even he goes too deep and erases things he should not. The last time he was "ill" Thomas had to be re-taught how to use some of the simpler lab equipment. I often wonder if the information connected in the synapses of Thomas' brain to that equipment was something that could have helped us in our research. I like to think discoveries of importance would be reported to me, but I cannot be sure.Rarely do I fear that my lab assistants will find the solution I cannot. They are brilliant, all, but working here has taken its toll on them. Perhaps my research would be better spent finding a way to prevent the long-term damage done by the Haitian's tampering.The morning is uneventful, filled with the most basic of tests and trials. I pass as much work on to my assistants as I can, but still I must be everywhere supervising. It is almost enough to make me long for the time when I performed my basic experiments in my father's run-down apartment. I made more progress then, so it seemed.Five reminds me to lunch, so I do, choosing to spend the time in my office instead of dining out. Unless I am summoned to the White House I rarely leave my offices during working hours. Five stays at her desk, most likely to watch me. I wonder about the reports she must turn in to her superiors, and how dull they must seem. Does she catalogue my choice of salad dressings, noting a preference for oil and vinegar, and does she note that I rarely eat at what passes for Indian restaurants in this area, choosing instead to cook for myself when I become nostalgic for the food of my childhood?Consumed with the minutiae of my life, I nearly miss it. There, one line of data on the page, one line in tens of pages, different from what I have seen every other day. Not the cure, no, but one step on the path toward it. My afternoon takes a sense of urgency. I forego my lunch and return to the lab early. Thomas is there, and several other assistants. I set them to running the tests we need for confirmation while I inform the President of what may be happening.By midnight we are certain. It's there. This can be done. I send everyone home instructing them to rest because tomorrow our work starts in earnest. Five is the last to go, smiling at me as she leaves, nodding to the pot of tea she has left on her desk. Familiar with my behaviors, she assumes I won't sleep tonight. There is too much to be done.When the door to my office opens again I am not startled. I had wondered all along if this would happen, if it had happened before. Now, even if only for a few moments, it seems I know."Dr. Suresh."I don't know his name. I never have. I fold my hands before me on my desk and wait. As he approaches the thought of Thomas enters my mind. "Don't go too deep," I instruct him.* * *"Good morning, Dr. Suresh.""Good morning." I don't know her name. I think of her in my mind as Assistant Number Six, but that is based upon her position behind the desk that once belonged to Maureen, my first assistant, and the only one I hired myself. Everyone since has more properly borne the title of Special Agent and reports to those who control Mr. Parkman, not to me."Doctor?" Her voice refocuses my attention from my thoughts to the lab. "Would you like some tea?""Yes." I'd brew a pot myself, but I've never been very good at that. "Thank you."
|
76658
|
Casus Belli
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by kangeiko",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2004-07-26T00:00:00",
"words": "100",
"Additional Tags": "Drabble, Community: hp100",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "hp100 drabbles",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
He hit the water rather harder than he had anticipated but didn't let the surprise slow him down. Ahead, he could see his photo journal spinning out lazily with the force of his efforts to reach it. His mother's face had started to blur alarmingly by the time he reached the book and snapped it shut with cold hands.He climbed out of the lake and turned to the gaggle of Slytherins watching. Malfoy's smug little smile faded at the expression on Harry's face."Right," Harry said slowly, handing the soaked book to Hermione and drawing out his wand. "Right –"*
|
76399
|
Homecoming
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Ryan Atwood, Seth Cohen, Kirsten Cohen",
"Fandom": "The OC",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by bluestargirl6 (pressdbtwnpages)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-04-01T00:00:00",
"words": "453",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Ryan drives up the familiar road to the familiar gates to the familiar street to the familiar house that he never thought he would be returning to, much less think of as home.It's Thanksgiving and he's driven his graduation-present truck, used, he insisted, home. Seth's staying in Rhode Island, since it's only four days and he has, in his words, the worst. Schedule. Ever.Ryan had kind of assumed that since Seth wasn't returning to Newport, he shouldn't either. But Kirsten had called and said of course they wanted him home if he wanted to be there and that they would do something fun, just the three of them.Seth hadn't been upset. He had, in fact, suggested they go to Mexico and lay on a beach and drink margaritas. Ryan had argued that 1) they had their own beach 2) it was still November wherever they were and 3) it kind of defeated the point of the holiday to celebrate it out of the country. Seth ignored all of this logic in favor of a "well, do something unique, man. And try not to miss me too much."Kirsten's waiting at the front door when Ryan drives up, either security in the community has improved or Kirsten's been waiting awhile and is extremely excited. Ryan sort of bets it's the latter.He's barely out of the car before she's hugging him and asking a thousand questions, most of which she knows the answer too because Ryan swears they talk more now that he's hundreds of miles away than they ever did when they shared a house.It's crazy, because she's acting like a real mom. Not that Kirsten wasn't always great, giving him a place to live and getting him out of juvie, but she wasn't really… mom-like. Not until the end of senior year, when she'd seemed to realize that she was going to go back to the way things were two summers ago, with an empty house and a fractured family.And now she was fussing over him, taking his duffle bag out of his hands and telling him to come in and eat, that he looked too thin.Sometimes, Ryan wonders when he's going to wake up. He'll still be fifteen, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom in Chino, jerked awake by the sound of A.J. beating the crap out of his mom. Or by Trey shaking him, telling him to get up, pussy, he's got something to do and Ryan can help.But he hasn't woken up, and the foyer of the Cohen house feels like home, and Kirsten's hand at his back propelling him towards the kitchen feels like family.And it's good.
|
81938
|
Czeslaw Meyer Finds His
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Czeslaw Meyer, Ladd Russo",
"Fandom": "Baccano!",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by alienchrist",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-04-22T00:00:00",
"words": "482",
"Additional Tags": "Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
The truth was, dying never really hurt any less, no matter how many times Czeslaw did it. There might be reasons for that - the hundred-times remade cells of his body were always new, so they relearned the pain every single time, or perhaps it had something to do with his own perception and tolerance, or the fact that all nerve damage would heal itself. The stabbing cold of a blade drawn across his gullet would never really change. Assuming the blade was of equal sharpness and its wielder equal strength each time, the effect would be naturally be the same as it sliced. His skin would never be any thicker, never give more resistance. The gurgle of his blood in his throat and spurting from his jugular would sound and smell exactly the same, and be of relatively the same temperature. These factors were variable, but really, his ability to feel pain was more or less unaltered from one flaying to the next.After awhile, Czeslaw did grow used to it. A testament to human spirit, perhaps, that he did not go completely mad, or that he could at least grow to anticipate which pain it would be by the item presented to him. A white-hot fire poker. It would sizzle, just a little, burning the skin and faint hair of his brow and lashes as it was inserted into his eye-socket. He was able to predict and note it with an almost scientific calmness. But it never hurt any less when his eyes leaked out in boiling blood and vitreous humor, and most of the time, he still screamed his throat raw.The fear went away. That made him a little bolder, enabled him to stare psychopaths like Ladd Russo in the face. He was able to see so much in faces. Years of studying the faint expressions of his caretaker through the blinding pain taught Czeslaw to read emotion. He recognized Fermet in the blond gangster, though his giddy sadism was so much less thinly veiled. Czeslaw wasn't sure if he hated or respected that, but he certainly didn't feel for him what he did for Fermet. He was not bound by Ladd in any way, and therefore didn't fear him. So what if Ladd shot him? He already knew what it felt like to be turned into pink mist. The low-life barely concerned him. Without the shadow of death looming over, Czeslaw was able to consider the real possibilities and methods of self-preservation. He could gamble with his life and lose nothing."Could you do something for me, sir?" Czeslaw's voice, like the sound of flesh tearing or sizzling or the smell of blood and burning hair, would never really change. It echoed off the walls of the freight car, saccharine, but more importantly, convincing. "All those people in the dining car - would you kill them for me, please?"
|
92700
|
How To Raise A
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Kaiba Seto, Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler",
"Fandom": "Yugioh",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by Rroselavy",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "2010-06-07",
"published": "2010-06-06T00:00:00",
"words": "28,133",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Kaiba Seto/Jounouchi Katsuya",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
He could not recall how in the name of God he had allowed his brother to talk him into getting a puppy. * * * "Seto, he is SO CUTE!" Mokuba had squealed as, at eight weeks old, the Golden Retriever had run amok through the maze of rooms of the mansion, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.Eight weeks had turned into eight months, with the same puppy, now a full 75 pounds of rambunctious energy, wreaking havoc daily throughout HIS life, HIS refuge, cuteness long ago fallen by the wayside.He began dreading coming home, never knowing what wreckage awaited him, which servant would need to be mollified for being the brunt of the dog's misbehavior. He'd already increased the maid's salary fifteen percent after she complained that cleaning up dog excrement and urine had not been in the job description she'd agreed upon. And bought the butler several new pairs of trousers. For some reason the puppy found endless joy in nipping at the butler's ankles as he went about running the Kaiba household.It all came to a head when Kaiba had to gain excuse from a homework assignment, explaining carefully to his teacher that the dog had in fact, ate it. And the disk he'd backed it up on. And chewed through the power chord to his laptop, which in turn drained the battery, rendering it useless until the battery could be recharged.He wondered absently how exactly the damned dog could do such a thing and avoid electrocution.It seemed a full minute passed in silence before the entire class, teacher included, exploded in laughter at his expense. "Fortunately, Mr. Kaiba, I believe you," Mr. Shimaoka said, "You could not possibly invent such a poor excuse, it must be the truth." The bell signifying the end of class rang, red-faced, Kaiba gathered up his books. Mood blackened, he promised himself the dog would be vacating the premises. Today."Kaiba, YOU got a puppy?" Jounouchi Katsuya asked incredulously."Jealous that it isn't you, Mutt?" he snapped."Fuck you, I was just tryin' ta be friendly. And I'm NOT a dog!" Jou retorted. "I feel sorry for the little fucker," he mumbled just loud enough for Kaiba to hear."What was that, Inu?!" Kaiba sneered, launching himself at the smaller boy. Agile as a cat, Jounouchi was halfway out the classroom door, intent on escaping Kaiba's rage."Mr. Jounouchi! There is no cursing allowed in this school! When I catch you, you will have detention!" Mr. Shimaoka called after him. From behind his teacher he heard Kaiba snicker."Aw fah crissake!" Jounouchi howled, determined not to get detention on this of all days, when his sister Shikuza was visiting. The thought of her alone with Honda and Otogi fighting over her like she was a juicy bone was enough to propel him forward through the halls. The weekend was in front of him, there was no way he'd start it off with detention! He'd take his lumps on Monday.He was thankful for once that his time as a gang member had trained him for the obstacle course that the school hallways offered. In his heyday, no one caught up with Jounouchi Katsuya. He sailed through the crowded halls, opening up a lead on his teacher, edging closer to the exit by the gymnasium.He blasted through the gym doors to the outside, realizing he was home free, at least for today. Not caring about the future and the punishment that certainly loomed when next he encountered Mr. Shimaoka, and unaware that the gym teacher and track coach had been observing his sprint. Perhaps the weekend would be enough time for his teacher to cool off, and Jounouchi could talk his way out of detention. One could always hope.When Mr. Shimaoka finally reached the exit, he was greeted by the coach, Mr. Kitano. "Looking for someone?""Yes, Jounouchi Katsuya. Have you seen him?""He passed by a while ago." Aggravated, the other man swore under his breath. "Is he in trouble?""He just earned a week's worth of detention!""Hmm. I have a deal for you, Mr. Shimaoka." * * * "We can't get rid of Kobi," Mokuba pleaded that night, "He's my best friend, Seto. He just needs to be trained." Kaiba felt his resolve begin to melt under the tear-filled gaze of his younger brother."Mokuba, he's already been to obedience school three times. I think there may be something wrong with him.""But Seto, WE'VE never trained him. We've only let someone else do it, and Kobi is always obedient for the trainer." Mokuba's arms snaked around the offending creature's neck, who took Mokuba's proximity as an excuse to lave his face with soft pink tongue.Kaiba shook his head. "Moku, neither of us knows the first thing about training a puppy.""There's tons of dog training books, Set. Just order one from Amazon.""Hmph. Okay, I will give the dog one last chance." He softened his stance. "But if his behavior doesn't improve, he will be banned from the house.""Thanks, Seto! I know this will work!"He could not stand another minute under his own roof with the out of control creature. So, being Kaiba Seto, he researched all the books available on dog training, investigated which ones had garnered the best results, and finally settled on How to Raise a Well-Mannerd Puppy. He paid to have it overnighted to his office. If only he had researched puppies this thoroughly he thought to himself, he wouldn't be in this predicament.Perusing the book as he rode home from his office in the limo, it came to him that perhaps some of the principles found within could be employed on a certain blond-haired, brown-eyed puppy. With that in mind, he smiled as he cracked open the cover and began reading."Congratulations on your new puppy! Now that you have chosen your pet, it is important that you raise him to be a well-mannered member of the community."Dogs are social animals, and as such need to be integrated with their human pack."So that explains the whole 'friendship' thing. Kaiba snorted, thinking how inseparable Jounouchi was from Yuugi, Anzu and Honda. How insufferable he found their interdependence to be."Your puppy will be happiest knowing his position in your household. As master, you must assert your dominance over your pet. Once that is established, you are well on your way to sharing your life with a loyal, faithful and obedient companion."Kaiba smirked. Oh yes, this book was going to prove very useful.*****The weekend had been nothing short of blissful. He had spent every waking moment with his sister, and the time together had been a balm for him. Only Shizuka knew how hard it was for Jou living with their father, how it had torn Jou apart when their mother and she had moved out. How hard it was for him not to believe that his mother just loved him less, or just not enough."Jou, you know Mom loves you! It's just Dad needed a dependent in order to qualify for social aid. Plus someone has to look after him." Shizuka patiently explained for what seemed to be the thousandth time."Y'know Sis, I can't help but think there had to be a better way than this," Jou replied dejectedly. He thought it unfair that HE was left behind as caretaker. After all HE didn't marry the old man. 'In sickness and in health' and all that. But he did love his father, and knew he was working hard to control his alcoholism. He'd even started taking on some of the household chores that Jou had shouldered, mainly cooking and cleaning, as Jou didn't trust his father with their meager finances, or the checkbook yet.They hadn't done anything special during her visit, dinner with their desperately trying to stay sober dad, and two days of hanging out at the park with Yuugi, Honda, Anzu, Ryou and Otogi. He knew Shizuka enjoyed the attention his friends, especially Honda and Otogi lavished on her, and the time spent with him, away from her overprotective mother.He faced Monday morning now with growing trepidation that he was sure to be paying up for his behavior on the previous Friday. Hopefully that meant he would only need to face his teacher's ire, and not that of Kaiba as well.He sighed, wondering what exactly it was about him that the other boy detested so. He certainly did not hate Kaiba. As a matter of fact, he liked him. Really liked him. As in he was into him. Not that Kaiba couldn't use some help in the personality department. He could definitely loosen up a bit, maybe crack a genuine smile once in a while -- not that triumphant little smirk he wore after he kicked your ass from here to there and back again. But where looks and brains were concerned, Kaiba had it all going on. * * * Apparently, he needed to exercise more patience. Far more patience. He'd been going about it all wrong. Kaiba sighed and rubbed his temples. He'd generally treated Kobi's various misbehaviors in one of three manners -- by chasing after and bellowing at the animal, smacking him with a rolled up newspaper, or shoving his nose in his business. Wrong, wrong, wrong."Your puppy does not want to misbehave! When he makes a mistake, he needs to be corrected in a firm but gentle manner."Angry outbursts and corporal punishment will only serve to create a fearful, frightened dog, one prone to aggressive, impulsive behavior. Punishing your puppy long after he has misbehaved may cause him to become anxious and mistrustful."He hated being wrong. Despised himself when he erred. It brought a flood of hideous emotions bubbling up from the depths, threatening to overwhelm him. Threatening his carefully crafted stony demeanor. It took a long time, years, for him to realize that the voice that berated his mistakes was that of Gozaburo. The only one, only thing he hated more than being wrong.It did not matter that it was unreasonable for him to believe he should have innately known how to treat the dog. He knew he had to cycle through the wave of panic and self-loathing that encompassed him. It had been so ingrained in his education at the hands of his adoptive father."How could you get that question wrong?! This is totally unacceptable, you stupid, stupid cur! You will never amount to anything! You will be lucky to earn a living as a janitor!" Gozaburo roared, looking over young Seto's lessons."I'm sorry, Fa--" his apology silenced by the back of Gozaburo's hand."KAIBAS DO NOT APOLOGIZE! KAIBAS DO NOT MAKE MISTAKES!! YOU WILL NEVER DESERVE THE NAME KAIBA!!! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT. NOW!!!"Seto picked himself up and skulked away, vowing that some day he would get his revenge.He shuddered from the memory. He did get his revenge. Gozaburo never saw it coming, because he actually did believe he was infallible. Seto was able to outmaneuver him and take over control of the Kaiba Corp. Board. And when Gozaburo realized his mistake, that he'd succeeded in making his son in his own brutal image, he killed himself. Coward.But what Gozaburo never learned, was Seto's salvation. He understood the necessity of mistakes. Even as he worked through his twisted past, he knew that mistakes bred innovation. So as much as he could hate himself and rail at his own stupidity, he could internalize it and move forward in the proper direction. He would never lay a hand on Kobi again. Knowing his temper as he did, he could not promise he would never yell at the dog, but it was a goal to work toward.He stared down at the puppy contentedly asleep at his feet. Kobi was laying flat out on his side, rib cage gently rising and lowering in even breaths. God how he wished he could sleep so well. It was the sleep of the innocent.He had no idea why the dog actually sought out his company. Dogs were supposed to be able to sense whether or not a person liked them. Most of the time Seto could barely stand to be in the same house as the unruly animal, yet he trailed Kaiba around whenever he was home. Perhaps the damn thing was just trying to ingratiate himself to Kaiba, hedging his bets that it was he who decided who stayed and who was sent away.It was late, and he was tired. He nudged the dog gently with his bare foot. Kobi roused and shook his entire body awake. He turned to Seto, placing his soft muzzle on his thigh, brown eyes gazing up at Kaiba searchingly.He was reminded of another's brown eyes. Jou. His puppy. He patted Kobi's head, gently scratched behind his ears. Was rewarded with a soft lick on his hand.He thought about his interactions with Jounouchi. How he deflected Jou's friendly overtures with snide remarks and insults. He was endlessly irritated by his attraction to the other boy, yet a small part of him wanted to explore the possibilities therein. He had no doubt that he wanted to dominate Jounouchi, but just as he'd been wrong in his dealings with Kobi, perhaps he needed to modify his behavior toward Jounouchi.What could be the harm in that, he wondered as he prepared for bed.*****Jou hurried toward school, not wanting to add lateness to his growing list of transgressions. He sped up as he noticed the object of his affections on school grounds up ahead, then hung back so that he wasn't too close, but still maintained an unobstructed view of Kaiba's fine ass.He knew that in his pursuit of Kaiba, he was definitely pitching out of his league. For one thing, he couldn't even get the guy to notice him, except to insult or humiliate him. But Jou was not one to be deterred by such minor setbacks. He had a plan. Or at least a plan for a plan. It was all about proximity.He'd taken a psychology elective at the behest of his guidance counselor, and found it to be very enlightening. He'd become fascinated by the different theories of how people behave socially. He'd learned that one of the three factors that influence attraction is proximity. The other two were attractiveness and similarity. And hell, he wasn't that bad looking, and they were both guys, right?While he could care less about hard sciences, language arts and math, human nature was endlessly fascinating. And he had to admit, his new-found scholarship had helped him to remember terms in other subjects. For example, tangents. Tangents were all about proximity, and proximity was all about getting next to ... It occurred to Jou suddenly that he was no longer staring at Kaiba's ass, rather he was--"What are you looking at, Mutt?"Caught. Fuck! He raised his eyes to meet steely blue ones, that seemed to bore right through him."I-I I wasn't looking at anything, Kaiba ... I-I was thinking!" Jou stuttered. He imagined his face was turning three shades of red.What Kaiba wanted to say was 'Don't hurt yourself, Mutt' but instead he managed "Thinking, about what?""Tangents!" Jou blurted. They stared at each other for a moment longer, then Jou looked away.Kaiba quirked an eyebrow. "Whatever," he replied, walking away. Not exactly a stellar exchange, but at least it hadn't ended in insults, Kaiba mused.Jou watched Kaiba saunter off. Breathed a sigh of relief. Now if only it would go so well with Mr. Shimaoka. * * * Last period. Time to face the music. Jou arrived at Mr. Shimaoka's class early, hoping against hope that maybe he would have forgotten Friday afternoon. He noted Kaiba there already, busy reading.Emboldened by the civility of their earlier exchange, Jou asked, "Whatcha reading there?""A book on dog-training.'"Awww come on, can't ya just--"Kaiba looked up impassively at Jou's outburst. He raised the book off of his desk, exposing the cover."How to Raise a Well-Mannered Puppy" Jou read and became silent. Stared back into Kaiba's eyes. "Ohhh," he said quietly, breaking eye contact, heading to his seat.Kaiba smirked and went back to reading."The simplest, most consistent tool to use to assert your dominance over your puppy is food. Never feed him scraps from the table, and never let him eat before you do."Another technique is the stare-down. If you catch your puppy staring at you, stare back neutrally, but directly into his eyes until he looks away. Never break eye contact first!"This was just too easy.Class passed uneventfully, and Jou considered that his teacher had forgotten all about Friday. Things were looking up. He'd actually had two almost civil, almost conversations with Kaiba, and it seemed he'd escaped detention. The bell rang, and as he gathered his things, Mr. Shimaoka called out to him."Mr. Jounouchi, I need to see you after class. Please have a seat." Jou watched forlornly as his classmates filed out.He decided to be proactive. "Mr. Shimaoka, please accept my deepest apolo--"His teacher interrupted. "I was prepared to give you a week's detention, for your behavior on Friday, Mr. Jounouchi, but--"Just then Mr. Kitano poked his head in. "Ah, I see you've kept Mr. Jounouchi here for me, Mr. Shimaoka." Jou did a mental inventory, trying to remember if he'd done anything to piss off the gym teacher on Friday as well."Yes, I was just explaining to Mr. Jounouchi that he was facing a week of detention." Now he addressed Jou directly. "But it seems Mr. Kitano would like to make you an offer in exchange for detention."Jou gulped hard. What possible offer could the gym teacher have that was more palatable than detention?"Well, yes, that is true." The gym teacher sat in the desk in front of Jou and turned to face him."You are quite a runner, Mr. Jounouchi. I timed you on Friday, and you are better than most of the boys on the track team. In fact you are better than every one of them except Mr. Kaiba."Jou stared back dumbly, vaguely registering another thing Kaiba was better at than he."So what I'm proposing is that instead of detention, you join the track team.""You want me to run? For you." Jou asked. He genuinely liked Mr. Kitano, and always did well in phys. ed. But be a jock?"Yes, I think it would be good for you. Ultimately beneficial. Have you even given any thought as to how you are going to go on to college? I've seen your grades, and you certainly aren't going to get there on their merit alone.""Well, I never thought I was college material. My family can't afford to send me anyway." Jou replied quietly."That's no excuse for not trying, Katsuya!" Mr. Kitano said affectionately. He, like most of his teachers, liked Jounouchi, but was frustrated by his lack of academic interest."If you ran well on the track team, and worked a little harder to improve your grades, you might have a shot at some scholarships."Jounouchi allowed himself to think of the possibilities. He'd never considered he'd be able to attend college. He knew all his friends were looking at colleges and universities, and planning out their futures. He'd figured he'd be able to get a factory job, continue to live with and care for his father, and maybe attend night school at some point.But now he was being shown an opportunity that he didn't even know existed. And he allowed himself to hope, to dream that he needn't end up as his father had. A middle-aged drunk who never reached his full potential.Plus there was the added bonus of chasing Kaiba's tail around the track. He smiled at that. "So when do ya want me to start?"*****"Hey Kaiba," Jou said shyly.Kaiba stopped stretching and looked up. "What are you doing here, Mutt?" he glowered.He always looked forward to practice. He wasn't a really team player, he barely tolerated the presence of his teammates, this was his time alone, to let his mind wander freely as his feet rhythmically drummed along the track, eating up meters on its smooth surface. To shed the monkey on his back that was Kaiba Corp., leave behind his schoolwork and the responsibilities of caring for himself, his household, his brother.It was his one indulgence. He ran seven days a week, often in the early hours of the morning, long after he'd tucked Mokuba into bed for the night, had fulfilled his responsibilities to Kaiba Corp., wrapped up his homework, he'd put on sweats and running shoes and navigate the streets that surrounded his estate. He found the solitude intoxicating.He didn't need have his reverie interrupted by the distraction of the blond standing in front of him."Umm, I guess we're teammates now." Jou said, toeing the pebbly surface of the track. He was beginning to think this was a bad idea. Maybe proximity wasn't the answer. He wondered how much effort he would need to show his track coach before he could quit without getting into more trouble."You joined the track team." Not a question, more a statement of resignation.Jou sighed, "Yah, Mr. Kitano asked me to join, an' it seemed like a good idea." He gazed off into the distance."You don't plan on running in THOSE?" Kaiba nodded his head toward Jou's feet.He looked down, suddenly embarrassed at the sight of his worn-out sneakers. This was definitely a bad idea. He didn't have the money to invest in a pair of running shoes. He didn't even know how he was going to pay the utility bill this month. New running shoes were a luxury beyond his grasp. Dammit, no! This could be his ticket out of the crappy future he had envisioned. He strengthened his resolve. He had to find a way to make this work."Yeah, well not everyone is made of money, Kaiba," he replied bitterly, stalking away.He saw Jou blush, regretted his question. Finished stretching, then rose, ready for the long distance drills."Okay," Coach Kitano called out, "Everyone but Mr. Jounouchi start the 400 super set, remember 5 minutes rest between each."Katsuya, let me explain how the practices are run." He noticed the boy's shabby clothes and sneakers and grimaced to himself."Mondays and Fridays are long distance drills, Tuesdays and Thursdays are weight training, Wednesdays and Fridays are sprints. So on Fridays, depending on where you fit in, you will run long distance drills or practice sprints. Today, you should not try to run at your top speed, just try to finish the distance. Let me work with you through some stretching, and you can join the rest of the team in the second or third set."You will need to invest in a pair of running shoes," he added."Yah, I figured," Jou replied dejectedly. "But I don't see how I can afford it."Mr. Kitano smiled sympathetically. "It's a small investment toward your future, Katsuya, perhaps we could work something out. You can come by in your free hour and do some filing for a couple of weeks ..."Jou looked at the coach suspiciously. "Why're you doing this?""Because you deserve a break, Katsuya. The circumstances of your life haven't gone unnoticed," he replied. "Your father came to the school one day and spoke to the Principal to make reparations -- as part of his 12-step program. He explained why your grades and attendance have been poor."Jou sighed and shrugged. He remembered quite clearly when his father had begged his forgiveness. Forgiveness for the years of abuse and neglect, promising to make it up to Jou. As if. It was hard, but of course he forgave his father. He understood that alcoholism was a disease, that what had happened was caused by it. It would be harder still to forgive his mother for leaving him. Maybe HE needed a 12-step program for that.He joined the rest of the runners in the drills, feeling hamperd by the lack of traction his sneakers offerd. He wanted to run flat out, to run to exhaustion, oblivion. Forget the strain of bearing his father's burden, of never having enough to eat, of thinking up creative ways to keep the bill collectors at bay until the social check came in. He noticed Kaiba had finished, far in advance of the rest of the team.His endorphins kicked in, he was feeling good from the exertion. He decided to turn on the speed. The burst lasted all of ten seconds before he was sailing head over heels, landing in a skidding heap. He heard snickering from a couple of his nearest teammates as he lay on the track.Kaiba was jogging easily now, recovering. Glancing ahead, he saw Jou skitter out of control, tumbling a few times before coming to a stop. Heard the snickers. It enraged him to hear someone laugh at his puppy's misfortune. He raced over to the fallen boy."You think it's funny?" he hissed at the other boys gathered around. It satisfied him to see the fear shown in their faces.Jou struggled to get up and assess the damage, nice scrapes on his right knee and elbow. Blood trailing down his leg, dripping from his arm."Alright, everyone, get back to drills." Mr. Kitano ordered. "Mr. Kaiba, take Mr. Jounouchi to my office and help him get cleaned up."Kaiba snorted. "Stupid Mutt," he cursed under his breath. Jou trailed him silently inside, through the gym, into the coach's office off the locker room."Sit," Kaiba directed. He grabbed the First Aid kit from its perch on top of a file cabinet.Jou sat pensively on the stool Kaiba had motioned to. Concentrating on the throbbing in his knees and elbows. Concentrating on not pissing off Kaiba any more than he already was. Berating himself. Proximity, yeah right. He had it in spades now, so why did he feel like he was trapped with a caged lion?Kaiba squatted on a low stool and rolled in front of Jounouchi. Gently he raised Jou's lower leg onto his lap, extending the injured knee. He heard the sharp intake of breath from the other boy. As he removed Jou's sneaker and sock he said brusquely "I'll try to be gentle," and looked up into Jou's eyes. Jou glanced away, surprised at the softness of Kaiba's touch.He carefully swabbed the bloody knee, noticing a deep bruise already developing. Then he smoothed on some antibacterial ointment before covering it with a bandage. He was trying hard to focus on his task, to not think about the smooth musculature under his hand, the heat radiating from Jou's skin. His musky scent."You really should not have been running in these sneakers," he commented idly."Ya think?" Jou snapped.Kaiba glared at him before roughly pushing the injured leg out of his lap."Owww, whad'ya do that for?" Jou whined."Let me see your arm," Kaiba answered."No. I think I can take care of it myself. I don't need to be manhandled. What the hell are you so pissed off about anyway?""You wouldn't understand," Kaiba sighed. "Now let me see your elbow." He reached out and coaxed Jou's arm closer."I wouldn't? Why don't ya try me?"Oh I'd like to try you all right, Kaiba thought. "Fine. I'm pissed because running is the one thing I do for myself. I don't want friendship or comraderie, I want to be left alone. I just want to run." Even through his harsh words, he swabbed Jou's elbow as gently as he had his knee."I--I can understand that," Jou said softly. "When I was running before, I felt like I was able to escape from all the responsibilities I have. I felt free." He looked at Kaiba's head bowed over his arm, as he diligently dressed Jou's elbow. "I won't bother you, okay? I'll give you your space." He added.Kaiba's hand lingered on Jou's arm. "Why did you join track?""Mr. Kitano made me an offer I couldn't refuse," Jou smiled.*****As Mr. Kitano promised, Jou now had proper running shoes. He showed up every day during his free period to work off his debt. The coach had him file for about ten minutes, then instructed him to study."But how is my studying repaying you?" Jou asked."Improving your grades is repayment enough, Katsuya." * * * He had to admit that the book was working. In the space of a couple of weeks the unruly puppy was beginning to calm down. Kobi no longer nipped at ankles and heels. He was following simple commands as well. Kaiba was beginning to think he could not only live with a dog in the house, but enjoy it as well.He had read that praise was as, if not more, important than corrections, and implementing praise had accelerated Kobi's learning curve."As your puppy exhibits desirable behavior, you must remember to praise him. Praising your puppy will reinforce good behavior."He had begun to look forward to coming home, and Kobi greeting him.He also found himself still happily anticipating track practice. At first, despite Jounouchi's presence, but slowly he'd come to realize that some of his eagerness was because of it.True to his word, Jou gave Kaiba plenty of space. They barely spoke, but often settled into drills side-by-side.Jou was still working out his pacing, often falling back in exhaustion after pushing too fast at the beginning of the sets, but he was quickly mastering his own racing rhythm.Kaiba enjoyed watching Jou run out in front of him, the way his leg muscles pumped his buttocks was well worth savoring. Most of the time he had no trouble catching up and speeding past Jounouchi, sometimes purposely brushing him.His behavior did not go unnoticed by the coach. He'd never seen anyone able to pierce through the cold facade of his track star. Often times he would catch Kaiba and Jou watching each other when the other wasn't looking.He'd even overheard Kaiba compliment Jou. They formed the last two legs of the relay team. He had them practice the handover technique over and over, relays were lost on sloppy hand-offs.After countless repetitions, they had perfected the maneuver and were making the transition with ease. Still they practiced on, becoming so attuned to each other's movements that the fluid motion happened naturally, automatically."You did well, Mutt." Kaiba acknowledged, knowing his comment would elicit a rise out of Jou."I am NOT a dog, Kaiba ... but thanks."Yes, there was definitely something going on there. * * * He found himself increasingly hungry. The combination of running and weight-training was causing him to burn far more calories than he could afford to eat. He was eating his father out of house and home. At lunch, he would poach food off of his friends relentlessly."Jou, man, do you have a tapeworm or something?" Honda asked, annoyance creeping into his voice."Umm, no. I'm just hungry, is all," he replied sheepishly. For some reason he'd been reticent to tell his friends about joining track."So what's going on, then? I've never seen you pack it away like this!" Honda persisted."All right, I joined the track team, okay? And all the running has given me a bigger appetite." He looked up at stunned faces all around."The track team," Honda slowly repeated. "The one Kaiba is the star of?" He asked incredulously.Jou blushed furiously. This was not how he wanted to break it to them. He quickly explained the deal Mr. Kitano had offered to avoid detention. "And Kaiba isn't so bad once ya get to know him.""Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Anzu chimed in, placing her hand on Jou's forehead. "You must be sick, because I just heard you defend Kaiba."He didn't think he could get any redder. He felt the heat creeping over his face, looked up to see Kaiba two tables away, looking directly at him, Mona Lisa smirk playing on his lips. He glanced over to Yuugi for some backup.Yuugi smiled warmly at him. "It's okay Jou, I'm glad you and Kaiba are getting along.""Yeah pal," Honda enjoined. "I was getting tired of bailing your ass out." He thought for a second. He knew Jounouchi's finances were limited. "Ya know, if you want to come by for dinner a couple of times a week, my Mom would be happy to set an extra plate.""Thanks, Bud. I think I might take you up on that!" Jou replied enthusiastically. Honda's mother was an amazingly good cook."You could even bring Shizuka around sometime," Honda added innocently."You. Are. Not. Dating. My. Sister." Jou replied vehemently.Kaiba's eyes narrowed at the light-hearted teasing, the easy way Jou and his friends interacted. He was feeling something utterly alien to him. He was feeling jealous. * * * As the weeks wore on, they began practice races in preparation for the upcoming schedule of track meets. For the first time, Kaiba felt true competition, Jounouchi was becoming a seriously good runner. Kaiba found that he needed to work to beat Jou.After one particularly close race, where Kaiba edged Jou out in the last quarter track, Jou bragged "Ya better watch out, Kaiba, I'm gonna catch you one of these days.""In your dreams, Mutt.""Awww c'mon! I was on your heels the entire run!""A good dog knows how to heel his master," Kaiba smirked, watching the flush of anger spread on the other boy's face as the insult sunk in."Fuck you, Kaiba! I am not a dog. And you are NOT my master."Kaiba grabbed Jou by his t-shirt, pulling him close, feeling the dampness of his perspiration in the thin material. It was not at all unpleasant, but he glared at him malevolently anyway and hissed "You better watch what you say to your Master, Inu. Unless, of course, you really mean it."They stood toe-to-toe in an intense stare-down. Jou's eyes slid away at the sound of Mr. Kitano's voice."All right you two, break it up and give me eight laps, that should cool you off! Everyone else is dismissed."Kaiba smirked, eight laps would be nothing for him, his late night runs had greatly improved his stamina. But Jounouchi would be suffering by the end. "You think you can beat me? Prove it," he challenged."Fine. Let's go!" Jou spat and bolted down the track.He laughed to himself, knowing that Jou's anger would be his downfall, he was way off pace. He would be crawling across the finish. * * * He was pissed at himself for taking the bait. He knew he didn't have a chance at beating Kaiba. He was exhausted already, and Kaiba had barely seemed winded. After his initial burst of speed, fueled by his anger, he pulled back, settling into a pace which would at least give him a respectable finish.Why does he have to insult me at all the time? Jou wondered. He has everything. Looks. Brains. Money. His brother's unconditional love. But he finds it necessary to put me down. He pondered that as he heard Kaiba's footfalls getting closer. As he expected Kaiba edged past him, settling in a couple of paces ahead, causing Jou's focus to shift a little below the equator.God what an ass. Now Jou laughed silently at the double-meaning. Because Kaiba WAS an ass, but Jou was still deeply infatuated with him. But he was getting frustrated. The incremental thaw in Kaiba's personality seemed hardly worth the effort.Wait. Kaiba had said 'unless of course you really mean it.' Did that ... Is he? Jou smiled. He is SO into me. It was time to push this to a new level. See if Kaiba pushed back.Fueled by the revelation, he desperately hung on to Kaiba's pace. He wasn't going to win, but he'd come in a respectable second. Besides, he had the best consolation prize. Free rein to ogle that beautiful ass.*****They finished to an empty field. The coach and their teammates had long left them behind."I win again, Inu. You will never be first at anything," Kaiba taunted. He was barely winded, Jou noted."Maybe I don't mind finishing second because I like the view from there." Jou wheezed, then managed to flash an evil grin at Kaiba, just in case his meaning had not been fully comprehended, before heading off toward the showers. * * * Kaiba stared after him thoughtfully for a moment, after all, Jou's ass was well worth viewing too. Then he chased after him, catching to him before the entrance tothe gymnasium. He grabbed Jou roughly by the shoulder, spinning him around to face him."Ya got something ta say to me, Kaiba?" Jou's eyes flashed defiantly."Quit staring at your master's ass, Mutt."Which is how Jounouchi found himself in this position, one where the playing field suddenly leveled and the action shifted irreversibly into uncharted territory."For the last time, Kaiba. YOU. ARE. NOT. MY. MASTER!""I think my puppy needs a lesson." Kaiba smirked, closing the distance between them, pinning Jounouchi against the brick wall. Catching both of Jounouchi's wrists in one hand, he slid the other under Jou's shirt, roughly grazing his nipple with a fingernail."Kaiba, stop!" Jou gasped. He hadn't expected things to escalate THIS quickly. He didn't expect Kaiba's touch to feel so good, either.He could hear the alarm in Jou's voice, as he struggled to free himself. "Stop what, Puppy?" Kaiba murmured into his ear. He pressed closer, and his hand began to travel southward, after rolling the hardening nub between index and thumb. "You should know better than to tease your master, to start something you've no intention of finishing."Jou's eyes widened as he realized what the other boy intended. "Don't--" he managed, as fingers slid under the waistbands of his gym pants and boxers. Kaiba was waaayy too forward, his brain was telling him. But his body, shivering with anticipation, was urging Kaiba's hand on."Don't? Puppy, is that really what you mean?" He was fondling Jou's growing erection. "I think your OTHER head would beg to differ.""Don't. No. I--" Jou managed as fingers slid around his sex. It was becoming increasingly hard to speak coherently, as pleasure radiated out from Kaiba's ministrations."Ahh," Kaiba smiled triumphantly. "A double negative. So you WANT me to continue." His hand traveled deeper. Their bodies were touching now, Kaiba's spicy, musky scent filling Jou's nostrils. The aromas of cinnamon and citrus mixing with an earthiness of perspiration that aroused him further.A long slender perfectly manicured digit slid into Jou's tunnel. "Don't! No!" He exclaimed again, his last feeble line of defense, knowing he was losing this battle to the ecstacy the other boy was generating in him. His body was complete in its betrayal.Kaiba felt the tension in his captive's body slacken. His actions were having the desired effect. "Perhaps you mean you don't know if I should stop?" Kaiba continued evenly, as he slid a second finger into Jou. He let Jou's wrists go, and slid his arm behind his shoulders, capturing him in an embrace. Jou arched against him, head back, eyes rolling up in pleasure. Kaiba bit down on the offered throat, pleased at the gasp that escaped Jou's lips. He was bucking against Kaiba now, in rhythm to his fingers.Hands freed, Jou grabbed Kaiba, pulling him tighter against him, feeling Kaiba's erection pressing against his hip. Running his hands over Kaiba's firm ass, under his shirt, tracing arabesques on his muscular back. "God. Please--""Oh no, Puppy, I think you mean "Master please.'" Kaiba corrected. In the deep recesses of his brain, Jou noted and was amazed at the other boy's self control."Please," he whimpered. Kaiba was tracing the contour of his jawline with his tongue, biting his earlobe. A third finger joined its mates, stretching Jou further."Please what, Pup?" Kaiba teased."You know--" Jou was finding it impossible to string enough words together to make sense."I do," Kaiba chuckled, "But I want to hear you beg me." He slowed his rhythm, pulled his hand back upward, lightly caressing Jou's engorged member."Please. Fuck me. Now." Jou whined. The tension that had built up in the weeks of proximity snapped suddenly. He lost sense of place and time. It did not matter that someone could happen upon their intimacy. In fact, that made it all the more exciting.Kaiba's fingers found Jou's nipple again, teasing it harder. "Please fuck me, who?" he inquired.Jou's hand slid along Kaiba's sweats, feeling the hardness within. He knew he'd say anything Kaiba demanded at this point. Anything to get what he wanted."Please fuck me ... Master," he submitted, rubbing Kaiba's erection, nipping at his collarbone. He wanted, no needed, to feel Kaiba buried deep inside."Is that really what you want, Puppy?""Stop--Yes!" He wanted Kaiba to stop with the dog jokes, but then thought 'puppy' was certainly a step up from 'mutt' and 'inu,' and much decidedly better than other descriptors that burned across the canvas of his mind. Certainly better than 'whore' which would more aptly describe the slutty way he was responding to Kaiba's touch. But it felt so GOOD, so RIGHT."Tsk tsk. You really need to learn how to communicate better. I think we'll leave that for your next lesson." Kaiba broke away from the embrace, leaving Jou alone against the wall."Don't leave me like this!" Jou implored. He was aching with need.Kaiba stepped menacingly back toward him, his nearness flattening Jou against the wall. He tilted Jou's chin up to him, laid his other hand on Jou's hip. "Leave you how, my little Koi? Begging me to fuck you up the ass while you scream out my name wantonly, needing me to pound you harder, thrust deeper into your tight ass? All the while slowly stroking your cock until you can't take it anymore and you beg me to let you come?"It was the dirty talk that pushed Jounouchi over the edge, he grabbed Kaiba by both arms, slamming their bodies together, biting Kaiba's neck, tongueing down the contour. Hands running over smooth chest and taut stomach, sliding over slim hips, reaching around to feel that gorgeous ass he'd spent hours chasing around the track.Feeding into Jou's reaction, Kaiba continued, "Or should I force you down on your knees to suck my cock while I fuck you in the mouth and you lap up every last drop of my cum like the obedient puppy you are?" He smiled at Jou wickedly.Jou gazed back deeply into those smoldering azure eyes, noticed the pupil dilation, seeing for the first time the depth of Kaiba's passion. Had it always been there, simmering below the surface? Had it always been a coin toss, a card flip, that could turn their antagonism into ardor?"I want all of that ... and more," he responded, pressing their lips together, his tongue asking entrance to explore the depths of Kaiba's mouth.Kaiba kissed him back with equal urgency, sliding his tongue along Jou's lower lip, then deeper, once again asserting dominance. He pulled back suddenly from the embrace, realizing belatedly that perhaps he had not thought through his actions as thoroughly as he could have, because he was now painfully aware of his own erection, his own need. He had never considered his own raging adolescent hormones as one of the variables in his quest for Jounouchi's submission.Shit. He turned away wordlessly, heading for the locker room. He hadn't been prepared for the electrifying sparks that raced down his spine when the other boy kissed him. How images of that body naked and prone underneath him would ratchet up the heat quotient in his loins. How was he to get through the hours of office drudgery that awaited him, when his sole focus had become that of getting into the blond's pants again? It would be a long, cold shower. * * * Jou watched Kaiba stalk away, yearning again for his touch, his taste. It took him a few moments to pull himself together, to decide he was not about to allow it to end this way. He traced the other boy's steps, vowing to bring to completion what had been started.He heard the shower running, glanced through the doorway and saw Kaiba's silhouette, noting his erection in relief against the tiled walls. The locker room had long since been deserted by the rest of the track team and coach, all off to enjoy the rest of the spring day. They were alone.He stripped off his clothes, and triumphantly strode toward the the other boy. He had him cornered. Dead to rights. One good turn deserves another and all that. As he approached, entering the vigorous cascade of water, he announced his presence, uttering "Need some help with tha-- FUCK! COLD!" Shocked by the freezing temperature, he launched himself at Kaiba, seeking any amount of warmth his body might still be able to offer.Kaiba was shivering miserably under the icy torrent. He turned at the exclamation, nearly knocked off his feet by the sudden appearance of the blond in his arms. Heated skin. His skin. It felt so good."WHADDAFUCKSTHAMATTERWITHYOU!" Jou shouted, noticing now Kaiba's blue lips, feeling his body shuddering against him. But there was still heat discernable in the cerulean eyes that fixated on his.In answer, he pulled the blond tighter and crushed his lips down upon Jou's mouth. The reaction was immediate. He knew now he was in over his head. His heart beating erratically in his chest, that same electric tingling traveling down the length of his spinal column. He had set this chain reaction into motion, and damn it, he would see it to completion.Jou reached around to add hot water into the mix, certain they both would suffer hypothermia or worse before they were done. The shock of warming water helped bring Kaiba around to his senses. Aware once again of his surroundings, and what he knew was about to happen, he broke free from the kiss and grasp of the other boy."Oh, no, I'm not letting ya go that easily," Jou hissed.He grabbed Jou's arms, pushing him away. "Not here," he managed.He twisted the faucets off, and kissed Jou again as the trickle above them slowed to a sporadic drip. Both breathing heavily as hands explored wet naked flesh. "Get dressed," Kaiba thought out loud, pushing Jou out of the shower, trailing him back into the locker room.They scrambled for their clothes, pulling them over wet bodies, cramming books, papers, into backpacks, not caring who had whose belongings.He grabbed Jou by the wrist, leading him out of the locker room, through the silent gymnasium, out to the parking lot to his waiting limo.Once inside the limo, Kaiba pulled out his cellphone. He was feeling slightly calmer now, more in control. He was envisioning the afternoon and evening before him, and all the sublimely delicious offerings it held."Now that's a mood killer," Jou pouted, snuggling close to Kaiba. He was still shivering from the cold shower.He shot Jou a glare as he speed dialed his secretary. When she answered the phone, he barked "This is Kaiba, clear my schedule today. I will be in tomorrow." He hung up without waiting for a reply.He swatted at Jou, who had begun to nibble and lick at his free ear. "You are a very naughty puppy," he smirked. "I think you need to learn some discipline." He grabbed Jou's wrists and held them together, as he speed-dialed the house. He knew Mokuba had planned a sleepover and would be going to school tomorrow directly from his classmate's house. But he wanted to be all alone with his puppy, no one there to interrupt them. He dismissed the staff, explained to his butler to have them leave. Immediately.Undaunted by the capture of his hands, Jou trailed nips and kisses down Kaiba's neck, gratified by his ragged breathing and the soft moan that escaped his lips. "I think you like me that way," he drawled lazily."I can think of better ways to like you, Pup.""Oooh, I don't think I can wait to find out what they are." Jou replied huskily.*****He was beyond thinking, only able to contemplate the unimaginable pleasure he was experiencing as Jou worked his tongue down into the hollow of his neck.He still held Jounouchi by the wrists, and he used that leverage to push him back so that his body was now pressing Jou into the soft leather seat. He could feel both their hearts beating crazily, feel their body heat warming their damp clothes.He could not get enough of the sweet taste he had discovered inside Jounouchi's mouth. He slid his free hand down Jou's side, feeling the taut muscles of his thigh, while he captured Jou's lips in a kiss. He thrust his tongue deep inside the moist heat, ravished Jou's lips by lightly biting and sucking on them.Jou responded, melting against the weight of Kaiba's body. Not being able to touch Kaiba with his hands made him mad with desire. He moaned into the lips that covered his, sliding his tongue inside Kaiba's mouth, rubbing along his teeth, on the undersides of his lips.Kaiba broke the kiss, bringing his lips to Jou's ear "God, you are so hot. You make me want to fuck you so much, Katsuya. Thinking about your ass surrounding my cock makes me want to come right here."He released Jou's hands and lifted his upper body up so that he could better explore Jou's body. He felt the hard nubs of Jou's nipples through his shirt, causing Jou to gasp as he lightly pinched them. He reached for the hem of Jou's shirt, while Jou mirrored his actions, tugging his shirt up to run his hands along the smooth contours of Kaiba's back.The car lurched smoothly to a stop, and the sound of the driver's door opening and shutting registered in Kaiba's consciousness. Relief washed over him, they'd made it home.He yanked his shirt down, and managed to pull Jou's back over his chest, just as the door to the limo opened, revealing his chauffeur's torso."We're here, come on, let's get inside and out of these wet clothes." He looked at Jounouchi meaningfully."I couldn't have said it better," Jounouchi smiled back, stealing one last kiss before Kaiba urged him out of the car.Kaiba managed to get them through the entrance to the mansion, daring not to look back at his driver who most certainly was getting an eyeful of Jou molesting Kaiba as he dragged him willingly to the front door.Once inside, Jounouchi pushed Kaiba against the door, closing it decisively, pressing his body against the taller boy's, feeling his need press back against his own throbbing groin."So tell me exactly how you'd like me to be." He slid his hand under Kaiba's shirt, raking fingernails over skin, flicking them across his nipples.Kaiba groaned achingly, wondering how far he could push the other boy, just how adventurous a lover he could really be. He crushed their bodies together, and whispered in his ear, "Are you sure you can handle that?"He felt Jou's body tense, felt the momentum slip away. Jou pulled out of his embrace and sized him up. "Well, what are we talkin' about here?"It was at that moment that Kobi announced his presence by inserting himself between their bodies, having waited patiently long enough for his master's attention.Feeling the dog's wet nose against his hand, distracted Kaiba from the direction the conversation was heading in. He rubbed his forehead with his fingers briefly, looked up at Jou's hard, brown eyes and said, "I need to let the dog out." * * *He didn't want to put the brakes on. He trailed Kaiba and the dog silently through a long hallway, reaching forward to rest his hand on the slim curve of the other boy's hip. To let him know he was still in the game. The hallway opened into a kitchen, Jou stopped in the doorway, while Kaiba crossed the kitchen to let the dog out the door to an enclosed yard.Thoughts were spiraling through Kaiba's mind now. He should just let this go, send Jounouchi home. So they fooled around a bit. He should leave it at that. Cut his losses. But when he glanced again at Jou's face, those thoughts were banished. He could see the hunger darkening those honey-colored eyes."Tell me." Two words, a bridge across a chasm. Brown eyes staring evenly into blue.He looked away. Vaguely remembering that he should have forced Jou to look away first. It set off sparks tingling through his body. What he wanted. Submission. His puppy helpless under him, as he drove him to heights of ecstacy."You ain't into that S&M shit, are ya?" Jou continued to probe. He was genuinely curious now.Kaiba smiled, feeling the mood shift. "No! I don't ever want to hurt you." He hesitated, then walked slowly toward Jou, stood in front of him. He touched Jou's cheek with his hand, marveling at the smoothness, slid it back over his ear, through the silky blond strands, felt Jou turn into the caress."What I want is to tie you to my bed and drive you wild with desire. I want to hear you beg me to fuck you senseless. I want to suck your cock and swallow your cum, let you taste it from my lips. I want to spread your--""Why don't ya tell me what you really want?" Jou smiled softly, gently pulling Kaiba into an embrace. He wasn't sure about being tied up, but listening to Kaiba pour out his fantasy was completely turning him on.Kaiba felt Jou's hardness against his thigh. Encouraged, he continued "I want to spread your cheeks and bury my cock deep inside you. I want to come inside you, crying out your name." He kissed Jou tenderly, gently running his tongue over his lower lip, allowing Jou to explore deep within his mouth.A sharp bark at the door brought Kaiba back to reality. He pulled away to let Kobi back in. He looked back at Jou, "You can trust me, I won't hurt you."Jou stared into those deep blue pools. He could lose himself there. Drown in them. "I think I can handle it. On one condition. You set me free before you make love to me. I want to be able to touch you then."Kaiba considered this compromise, and briefly thought about agreeing, and then renegging on it, once he had Jounouchi where he wanted him. But he was already thinking about the next time he would have Jou, and knew that he needed to prove himself trustworthy."It's a deal."He led Jounouchi to his bedroom, closed the door behind them, locking Kobi out. Jou sat on the king-sized bed, feeling a little apprehensive, but excited just the same. He took off his shoews and socks. He'd never willingly given up control like this, and the uncertainty of that transaction was building up his arousal.He took in his surroundings. The room was huge. The four-poster bed sat in the center of it. Behind the bed was a wall of windows, rays of the dying sun bled across it. The walls were a deep wine color, the floor was covered with a deep pile oriental rug. It looked expensive and old.The bed was draped in a chocolate-colored velvet comforter. He noticed two simple wood nightstands on either side of the bed, a large dresser on the wall opposite. A plasma screen hung on the wall over the dresser. A desk with a laptop was set up in the far corner of the room. On the opposite wall were two doors, one of which Kaiba had disappeared into.He reappeared, holding four ties. Smiled shyly as he dropped them and a tube of lubricant on the bed and sat next to Jounouchi."What do you want me to do?" Jou asked."Shhh. Let's just get back to what was making us feel so good before," Kaiba purred. He ghosted his hand over Jou's cheek, down his shoulder and arm, intwining their fingers together. He kissed him tentatively, Jou kissed him back hungrily, tangling his hand in the hair at the nape of Kaiba's neck, pulling him still deeper into the kiss.Kaiba let go of Jou's hand, and lifted the hem of his shirt. Breaking the kiss, he pulled the shirt over Jou's head, and discarded it to the floor. He ran his hands over Jou's chest, taking in the flawless smooth skin. Jou reached for Kaiba's shirt, but he stopped him. "No. Stand up."Jou did so obediently, and Kaiba tugged at the button of Jou's jeans, opening it, then sliding down the zipper. He slipped Jou's jeans and underwear down over his narrow hips, releasing his erection. Kaiba took it into his mouth briefly, felt the shudder run through Jou's body, heard the sharp intake of his breath. He released Jou. "Lie down on your back."Jou climbed on the bed and did as he was told. Kaiba made short work of tying him down with the silken neckties, he didn't want to give him too much time to think about what was happening just yet. He stood back, admiring Jou in all his naked glory."You look amazing," he said, noticing the self-conscious flush wash across Jou's face. "You have the body of a god, and I intend to make you feel worshipped."Kaiba slowly disrobed under Jou's hungry eyes. He crawled catlike across the bed to his captive, tilted his face to him, and said softly "Remember what I said to you, I won't hurt you.""I believe you, Kaiba.""Call me Seto. I don't want to be Kaiba here, like this." He said as his hand, unhindered, began to explore Jou's body."Okay ... Seto."He leaned in and kissed Jou deeply, then trailed the kiss down Jou's throat, sucked gently on his collarbone, hands finding Jou's nipples and teasing them lightly. Jou gasped at the concentric waves of pleasure that washed over his chest, his body rigid as he tried to arch up toward Kaiba. Tried to force more pressure onto his sensitive buds. Kaiba continued to travel down Jou's torso, now sucking on one hardened nub, rolling his tongue around it, while rubbing the flat of his hand over the other."Oh god," Jou groaned. "That. Feels. So. Good." He felt Kaiba smile against his skin.He worried the other nipple briefly, before continuing, brushing Jou's erection against his abdomen, feeling it quicken from the sensation.He inched further down, leaving a wet trail in his wake, dipped his tongue deep into Jou's navel, pushing against it gently, which caused Jou to writhe. "Oh please, god, I can't take it!" He strained his arms against the bindings.Kaiba knelt between his legs, sliding his hands down Jou's hips, caressing the creases of his groin, then finally, ghosting over his erection. It spasmed at the touch, and Kaiba wrapped his long fingers around it, pulling on it gently.Jou bit his lip, stifling a guttural growl as Kaiba's lips covered the head once again. Releasing his hand, he took more of the shaft into his mouth, alternately sucking on it and rolling his tongue around it.Jou tried vainly to buck his hips against this new torture. "Oh god, Seto, please!" He pleaded. "Please make me come!" Felt the curve of Kaiba's lips, as he worked his tongue over the head with renewed vigor.His own erection was threatening to explode, and he was finding it difficult to keep his side of the bargain and not claim Jou right then and there. Instead, he turned his attention to readying Jou for him.He released Jou's erection and grabbed the lubricant and spilled some into his hand, coating his fingers. Then he slid a finger into Jou's tight asshole, feeling the velvety walls of the tunnel. Sliding it back out before thrusting it in again. Jou gasped at the new sensation, "Oh yes, please! Do that some more!"He smiled again, and returned to working on Jou's cock, taking it back into his mouth, feeling it swell ever so slightly more, feeling his pulse through the vein that ran its length. He slid a second digit in, scissoring them, reveling in the sensation of the muscle clenching at the intrusion, then relaxing.Jou's head was lolling from side to side in rhythm with Kaiba's fingers. His eyes were unfocused, all thought centering around the incredible spirals of pleasure that Kaiba was eliciting within his body.He was close to coming, feeling his essence literally being pulled out of him by Kaiba's mouth and the things it was doing to him.As Kaiba added a third finger, he screamed out "Seto!" Straining against the bonds he felt his release, felt the waves of orgasmic pleasure washing over him, as Kaiba swallowed around the head of his cock.He let his whole body go limp now, sweat-drenched and spent. Kaiba crawled back up to him, kissing him deeply, letting him savor his taste."Please Seto, take me. I want to feel you inside me."He untied Jou, gently rubbing the red marks that the binds had left. Free now, Jou grabbed at him, pulling him on top. Wildly running his hands over Kaiba's chest, his hips, his ass.Kaiba reached for the lubricant again, and rubbed the length of his shaft with it. He knelt between Jou's legs and tilted his hips up onto his thighs. He pressed briefly at his entrance, felt the muscle open up against the pressure, and slowly slid in. Jou pushed his ass further up Kaiba's thighs, drawing him deeper inside.He lost all control suddenly, he was thrusting deeply, and erratically. Jou matching each thrust with his own. He knew he was hitting Jou's prostate, now, he was arching off the bed with each thrust, guttural moans being ripped from his throat, eyes glazed, unfocused. Kaiba ran his hands over the expanse of his chest, once again teasing his nipples, pushing back against his arching body.His muscles were clamping down on Kaiba's erection, and the sensation of heat, friction and pressure pushed him over the edge. He felt himself exploding inside Jou, screamed out his name, as he collapsed on him.They lay motionless for a few minutes, before Kaiba rolled off Jou. He pulled back the comforter and sheet, covered them both before enveloping Jou in arms."That was fucking amazing." Jou remarked.Kaiba smiled agreeably. "Yes, it was."They drifted off to sleep.*****It was his hunger that woke him. It took several moments for Jou to acclimate to where he was. Kaiba Seto's bed. With him. The sun had gone down, the room was dark, illuminated only by the LED numbers of an alarm clock broadcasting the time as 8:51, and silent except for the soft steady breaths of the sleeping boy next to him."Shit!" He swore quietly. It was late. He needed to call home, leave a message letting his father know where he was. The elder Jounouchi had recently picked up a second shift job at a Toshiba plant, so there was no chance that he'd be home yet, but just in case he decided to check in on his son, Jou thought it would be a good idea to leave a message on their answering machine. Better late than never. As he listened to Kaiba's even breathing, he let his mind wander back through the past few waking hours, shivering with delight.He hadn't been convinced that he would enjoy being tied up, but Kaiba, that's still how he thought of him, 'Seto' still foreign to his tongue, had made it more than worth his while. Hell, Jou never thought he'd get to first base with Kaiba, let alone let him dominate him so totally. That he would so thoroughly get off on it. Kaiba was so unbelieveably HOT, sexiness just oozed out of the pores of his skin. And the things he could do with that mouth of his, when it wasn't tossing insults Jou's way ... he was becoming hard again just thinking about it.He smiled to himself, after he'd left a message for his dad, he'd see about evening the score ... maybe before he called home.No! Phone. Home. Now. He needed to find a telephone. He gently shook the other boy by his shoulder. "Kai--Seto, are you awake? I need to make a phone call.""Hmmmfff." he replied, burying his head into his pillow. Jou slid his hands down Kaiba's naked back over the delicious curves of his ass."No really, I hafta call my dad." He worked his hands back up, caressing the ridges and flat planes of his shoulder blades."Mmm. That feels good." Kaiba sighed. He reached out and switched on the bedside lamp. Turned over and sat up, felt his stomach grumble at its emptiness."After you make your phone call," he said, rising from the bed, "we'll have something to eat. You must be hungry.""Umm, yah. Food would be good." Jou caught the cell phone that Kaiba tossed in his direction, watched hungrily as Kaiba disappeared throught the other doorway in the room and flicked on a light.As Jou dialed his number, he heard the flush of a toilet. His father answered the phone on the fourth ring."Hellllloo?" He slurred."Dad it's--" Jou's mind began to race. His father was home. Not at work."WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!" His father was murderously drunk.Jou felt shivers coursing through his body, radiating from a cold pit in his stomach. He was no longer hungry."I--I'm at a friend's house. W-we were studying--""YOU LYING SONOFABITCH! I called all your friends. No one knew where you were!"He felt the old fears crawling across his skin. He knew he had to get home, yet dreaded the monster that awaited him."I'm at a teammate's house, Kaiba Seto. Dad, why are you home? What happened?" He hedged his bet that if his father was drunk enough, he'd be passed out before Jou entered the apartment."FUCKIN' BASTARDS LAID ME OFF!" He heard the sound of glass breaking."Dad listen, I'm on my way home, I'll be there as soon as I can--""YA BETTER GET YOUR ASS HOME YA STUPID PIECE OF SH--" Jou hung up the phone, and sat still in the big bed for a moment."What's wrong?" Kaiba's voice cut through the silence.Jou jumped out of bed, grabbing at his clothes that had been so carelessly discarded. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. He hurriedly dressed, but Kaiba caught him, pulled him into an embrace."Are you okay, Katsuya?" Jou avoided his eyes, he was near panic, mind racing at the scene that awaited him at home."I've got ta get home, it's late. I'll see ya tomorrow." He pulled away and continued dressing under Kaiba's watchful stare."Let me drive you home."Jou looked up at him quickly, and Kaiba caught panic in his eyes briefly, before his face assumed his street-wise look. Kaiba realized Jou was covering something."Nah, I'm gonna time myself running back, so next time we race, I beat your ass.""In your dreams, Puppy.""I'll be dreaming, but it won't be about that." He kissed Kaiba chastely on the cheek, lips softly lingering, as his hands feathered down Kaiba's ribcage. "Now, can ya help me find my stuff and my way outta here?" * * * As he ran, he got angry. He tried to concentrate on all the things he'd been practicing, pacing, breathing, stride, but he was consumed with a blistering rage.This was just so goddamned unfair. He'd been working so hard for months to rise out of the mediocrity that he'd thought would be his lot in life. He had just had one of the best nights of his life with someone he never dreamed would give him a second glance. At least it had been the best sex. Now his old man had to ruin it all by getting laid off and falling off the wagon. Getting laid off in itself was a bad thing. It had taken his dad months to land it. But burying his troubles in the bottle, that was inexcusable.And here came Jou to the rescue. To be his nursemaid, his confessor, his punching bag.His feet hit the pavement harder. He was kidding himself to believe that his life would ever amount to anything more than a caretaker to his father as he slowly drank himself to death. There was no college in his future, no career. There was no future for him beyond the walls of that apartment and the role of caretaker that had been foisted upon him.He was at the door to his building. Reaching for his keys, considering once again what lay ahead. He was curiously calm, no longer fearful, anger slowly draining away. He was no longer the frightened child, no tonight he would be a man, stand up for himself. He sprinted up the four flights to his apartment.He ;.let himself in quietly. Hoping to see his father sprawled out on the couch, sleeping it off. Instead to eyes glowered at him from the easy chair."Hey dad," Jou said softly."Where tha FUCK you been?" He was on top of Jou before he could respond. Pressing him against the back of the door, hands pinning Jou's shoulders down. It never ceased to amaze him how little being drunk impaired his father's motor coordination.Desperately hanging on to the calm that had settled over him, Jou replied softly, patiently. "Like I told ya before, Dad. I was studying at a friend's house." He felt his father's hands tighten, smelled the stale cigarettes and alcohol on his breath, noticed his bloodshot eyes narrow dangerously."An' I told you that you were lyin', ya sonofabitch!" He exploded as he backhanded Jou hard, the horseshoe ring he wore for good luck ripping a gash along Jou's cheek.The familiar sting, the harbinger of the beating that was sure to come fueled the anger that had been dormant. Still, Jou tried to be reasonable.He grabbed his father's wrist as he saw him wind it up for the punch that was sure to follow."Dad, stop. You promised me you wouldn't hit me anymore," he said futilely, his voice rising."Don't you fucking backtalk me!" He eluded Jou's grasp and landed a punch squarely on his injured cheek, the force of the blow slamming Jou's head against the door.White sparks flashed in front of Jou's eyes, the smell of blood filled his nostrils.He'd had enough.He wasn't going to take it any more, wasn't going to stand defenseless, absorbing his father's drunken rage until he'd worn himself out and collapsed into self-pity, begging Jou's forgiveness. He was done with that.He pushed his father back hard, and the surprise of it, combined with his drunken state, knocked the older man off his feet. He landed hard on his back, Jou straddling him. He looked up into his son's eyes, a mixture of surprise and confusion on his face, body momentarily frozen with shock."I HATE YOU, YA FUCKING BASTARD!" Jou's mouth contorted in a scream as he began to pummel his father's face. "I HATE HER TOO! Fah leaving me here WITH YOU," he hissed, the anger welling up. "I HATE YOU ALL and I WISH YOU WERE DEAD! I HATE EVERY TIME I'VE HAD TA BAIL YOUR ASS OUT OF TROUBLE! EVERY DAMN THING I'VE HAD TA DO TA SAVE YOUR SORRY SOUL! Ya promised me it would get better, you would BE better BUT YOU LIED! One little setback Dad, IS ALL the EXCUSE YA NEED!" Tears were flowing freely, unnoticed by Jou as his pent-up rage fueled his fists.He responded to the pain of the blows first by covering his face, but as his son's words sunk in, he was filled with remorse, and suddenly sober. He grabbed Jou, crushing him close, to stop the beating, but also because as the alcohol-induced haze lifted, he was once again aware of all the damage his drunkeness had inflicted on his son. He was humiliated in the knowledge that his wife had left him because of his drinking, and was losing his son for the same reason.He loved Jou more than life itself, yet how could even HE believe it, when the siren's call of the bottle would always tempt him, then turn on him.Jou was crying on his shoulder now. His blood and tears soaking into his shirt. He wiped his own nose, aware of its bloodiness. He pulled them both up into a sitting position, cradling his son in his lap. He was crying now too. Remembering how happy he was the day Jou was born. The immense amount of love that had coursed through him as he held his helpless son in his arms. All the promises he had whispered in his firstborn's ear. Every one of them broken, a path of broken dreams that wended through both their lives."What have I done to you," he asked brokenly. "I love you more than--""Don't you fucking say anything ta me," Jou snarled, pulling away.He wrapped his arm around Jou's shoulder in a hug."Get the fuck offa me!" His father's arms dropped away, but neither he nor Jou moved apart."Katsuya," he said softly, "Please ... you don't understand. I can't help ..."Jou's thoughts drifted away, he was filled with self-loathing. He's slipped to his father's level. He was no better than his old man. He deserved him, deserved everything he got from him. He had sworn to himself he would never raise a hand to his father, even as he'd joined a gang and taken immense pleasure in bullying and beating the shit out of other kids.Then he'd met Yuugi. Yuugi had saved him from that life, had taught him what true friendship was. And he'd repaid Yuugi with undying loyalty. Their bond, a thread that Jou grasped on to tightly as he negotiated the shadows that always pulled at him, beckoning him back to his old ways."... someday when you have children, my grandchildren--"He laughed bitterly. If he wanted to hurt his father, to sever their sick codependency completely, he had all the amunition he needed."When I have children?" He interrupted. As if. "Hah. Well I gotta newsflash for ya. You ain't gonna be seeing any grandchildren from ME." He smiled bitterly at the surprise on his father's face, the blood trickling out of his nose turning Jou's stomach, reminding him of how low he had sunk."You're RIGHT Dad," he continued. "I WAS lying to ya. I wasn't over any friend's house STUDYING, I was BUSY, taking it up the ass. And I liked, it--no--I. Loved. It. Every minute of it." He let the words sink in, carefully watching his father's face for any betrayal, scanning his body for any movement that would indicate another beating."Yah, that's right, Dad. Your son's a faggot. A flaming homo. I like being screwed by other guys." He waited for the blows, the tirade that never came.He let the shock of his son's words sink in. Why should this matter, he wondered. Did Katsuya think he would love him any less because of his admission?"It's okay Katsuya--""It's okay? That's all ya can say? GO TO FUCKING HELL!" He was standing up now, running toward his bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind him.Isao watched his son disappear from view. Sadly considered the confession he'd spat out in anger, considering the hell he had forced upon his son.*****Kaiba lay back on his bed, gazing at the ceiling. The smell of sex still permeated the air of his bedroom, musk mingling with the generic floral of the lubricant. The warmth of Jou's body still lingered on his sheets.It was only supposed to be a diversion, a challenge, he reflected. To see how much submission he could wrest out of the other boy. So why now did he feel somehow that it was he who had lost control? When Jou left, why did it feel that a piece of him followed him out the door? He felt strangely empty and alone.He hadn't planned for the other boy to get under his skin, to invade his thoughts unbidden. To fit his body like a glove. He hadn't expected their lovemaking to feel so right, so complete. He'd imagined it would be good--Jou's hotheadedness could only translate into a responsive lover--but not ... addicting. Because that's how it felt, as he lay there craving Jou's touch once more.He rolled on his stomach, looked down at the sleeping form of Kobi lying on the floor next to his bed. Mokuba was Kobi's favorite playmate, but at the end of the day, he always sought out Kaiba to lie near, to watch over.He'd truly become the dog's master. * * * It had been three days since Jounouchi had been in school, and Mr. Kitano was more than a little concerned. He had been doing so well in the months since they'd struck their deal, he hadn't missed a day of school or practice, and his grades had done a complete turnaround.He caught up with Kaiba in the locker room after practice. "Mr. Kaiba, I need to see you in my office."Kaiba sat down in the chair in front of the coach's desk. "Have you spoken with Katsuya recently?" Mr. Kitano asked."No, not since Monday afternoon," he replied cooly."Did anything happen between you two after I left?"Kaiba gazed past his coach, through the window behind him, out over the football field encircled by the running track. Did anything happen, he thought. No, not really. We just had amazing, mind-blowing sex, and then he left."We went back to my house for a while and lost track of time. He saw it was late and said he had to get home." He shifted his gaze back to the teacher."Did he seem nervous or upset?""Not at first. But then he called his father to leave a message, and apparently he was already home. I didn't hear the entire conversation, but he did seem to be in a rush to get home afterwards," he paused. "Do you think something is the matter?""I'd be lying to you if I said I wasn't concerned. Katsuya has been doing so well lately, I'd hate to see him backslide and lose the opportunity for any scholarships he might be eligible for. It seemed he was turning his life around."Kaiba looked at him evenly. He knew Kitano was trying to tell him something, hinting at it. "Do you want me to check on him?" He asked.He thought about it for a moment. "Yes, the school has been unable to contact Katsuya or his father. If you could look into it, see that he is okay, I'd be grateful." * * * He had his telephone number in memory on his cell from the call Jou had made to his father. He Googled the number and found his home address. It was in the worst part of the city--a true slum--not far from the orphanage he and Mokuba had lived at before Gozaburo adopted them.The orphanage. He thought back to his time there almost fondly. It was where the last vestiges of his childhood were left. Nameless, he'd been then. Just a big brother, protecting his younger sibling. He'd learned to fight there. It was well known that Jounouchi could street-fight, but Kaiba had learned to as well, and it came in handy when his arguments with the other boy escalated into fisticuffs.Jou. Where was he? Why was he avoiding school? It couldn't be because of him. When Jou had woken in his bed, he'd seemed happy, content, if not hungry. That is, until he'd called his father.'I've got ta get home, it's late,' he'd frowned. 'I'll see ya tomorrow.'Something had happened. He felt his heart contract with worry. Everyone thought him to be a heartless bastard, but he knew now that was not the case. He felt the flame that burned deeply inside, the one Gozaburo had tried to snuff out. He'd spent years living with his head inside the mouth of a lion, sharp teeth waiting to puncture his skull, to crush him into dust. He'd survived, unintimidated, flame buried deep inside his icy exterior, all but forgotten.He'd built a fortress around his heart under his stepfather's tutelage. To the world, he projected himself as uncaring, unmoving, untouchable. But still that flame had somehow survived, nourished by the scraps of humanity bestowed only on his brother.He was amazed that from the sweet submission of the other boy had burst forth a firestorm. He felt consumed, realized that he'd been wrong to think he could remain unscathed, that nothing could penetrate the protective walls he'd built. Part of him wanted for the flame to die out, to let it starve across the parched landscape of his soul. To retreat back to the way it was before. But he also sought to feed it, to fan it further. To let it sear through the barriers he'd carefully erected, to evaporate the ice, to scorch him until he cried out, to set him free of the prison of loneliness he'd sentenced himself to.He stood at a crossroad. He should walk, no, run away from Jounouchi, from the messiness that involving himself with the other boy would most certainly bring about. But Kaiba Seto was never one to back down. He faced adversary coolheaded and well-prepared, even if his opponent was his own desire. Falling into bed with Jounouchi had opened a portal into a world long forgotten, one he thought could never be recaptured. One where he could exist simply as a boy. Not the man-child he had become out of ambition and necessity.No matter how it played out, he knew he would not, could not live with himself unless he saw it through. If Jounouchi was avoiding him, he would seek him out. * * * The limousine pulled up in front of the dilapidated apartment building. Grafitti was scrawled across the brick surface up to a height of about six feet. The glass outer door was translucent with grime. His driver opened his door, looked about apprehensively. He dismissed him."I'll call you when I need you.""Sir, are you sure? I can remain here.""I'll be fine."He saw the name 'Jounouchi' scribbled under the buzzer to number 4G, and rang it. Waited a long time after pressing the button, wondering absently if it was working, and if not, how he would get inside. He pressed again, and after another eternity, the intercom crackled."Who is it?" a strange voice asked."Kaiba Seto. I'd like to speak to Jounouchi Katsuya."There was no reply except for the buzzing of the door as it was unlocked.It was a walk-up building. The stairs were dingy and poorly lit. He took them two at a time, anxious now to see Jou. To make sure he was okay.The door to the apartment had been left ajar. Kaiba pushed it open, called out "Hello?" Entered into a shabby but well-kept living room. The furniture consisted of a threadbare pull-out couch and mis-matched easy chair, an old rickety coffee table, and a small TV on top of on an old dresser. Past the living room was a waist-high counter with two stools that faced into an ancient kitchen. The carpet was an industrial brown pile, the walls, dirty beige.He was greeted by a middle-aged incarnation of Jounouchi. Kaiba noticed signs on his face of a recent fight. A swollen nose, and the telltale black eyes that accompanied its being broken."Hello," eyes not meeting Kaiba's. "You must be Katsuya's ... friend." There was a curious emphasis on the word friend. "I'm his father, Jounouchi Isao." He turned away from Kaiba, shuffling toward a narrow hall. "He's in his room," he called back. Kaiba removed his shoes and followed.The older man man rapped softly at a closed door. "Katsuya--""I told ya ta LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" There was a bang against the other side of the door."Katsuya, there is someone here to see you," he continued quietly. This time silence greeted him. "Katsuya, Kaiba Seto is here to see you."Kaiba stepped forward, and tried the door. It was locked from the inside. "Jou, let me in. I need to speak with you," he said to its blank face.After a few seconds, Jou answered. "Go away, Kaiba. Please?" He heard the strain in Jou's voice.Jou's father shook his head. "He's been in there for three days ...""What happened?" Kaiba demanded of him, eyes narrowing.The older man looked at him sadly. He could see tears welling in his eyes. "It's ... I--I can't talk about it!" He turned away from Kaiba and brushed past him.Every fiber in his body was telling to leave. Now. He was not wanted here, he could not help. But his heart, newly awakened and raw with emotion, kept his feet planted. He pressed his forehead against the door and spoke softly. "Jou, please open the door, I need to see your face, I need to know if you are avoiding school because of what happened between us.""This isn't about YOU, Kaiba," Jou snarled.He knew that now, but persisted. "If that is the case, then why can't you tell me to my face?"He heard movement on the other side of the door and stepped back a little. The door opened a crack, revealing one reddened eye, a dark circle from sleeplessness underneath it."This isn't about YOU. Now go away. Please." Kaiba wedged his foot in the opening before Jou could close the door again."I can't do that." He pushed the door open to admit himself int Jou's room. He closed the door and locked it. Jou threw himself on his bed, burying his face in his arms. Kaiba sat down next to him, and gently rubbed his back."It's okay," he soothed. "Tell me what's wrong. You can tell me anything." He coaxed softly.The room was tiny, no bigger than his dressing closet. The only furniture other than the bed were a cheap night stand and dresser. The walls, painted the same beige as the rest of the apartment, were unadorned except for a tattered Red Eyes Black Dragon poster above the bed."Ya don't know what you're talking about," was the muffled reply. "It'll never be okay!" There was a soft knock on the door. He felt Jou's body tense. "DO. NOT. LET. HIM. IN!""I'll take care of it. Him," Kaiba replied.He unlocked and opened the door a couple of inches, "He doesn't want to see you," he told Jou's father evenly."I know, I know," he responded shakily. "But I need to go to a meeting, and I don't want to leave him alone. I'm afraid he might ... Please, will you stay with him until I get back?"Kaiba eyed him impassively, digesting his statement thoroughly before answering. "Yes. Go," he answered and closed the door again.Jounouchi had turned over on his back, he was staring hard at Kaiba when he turned around. His breath caught and he felt his chest constrict at the sight. The left side of Jou's face was terribly bruised, and bloodied from a gash across his cheek. His eyes were swollen and red from crying.Kaiba noticed too cuts on the knuckles of Jou's right hand. Determined he'd gotten into a fistfight with his father.He sat down next to Jou again, "Tell me what happened. Did your father hit you because you were late?"Jou answered with his own questions. His mood had only blackened since he'd locked himself in his room. He had ruminated on just what HAD transpired between he and Kaiba, concluding that Kaiba had only bedded him in order to humiliate him at some later date. The thought that he'd allowed himself to be so taken advantage of humiliated him. Nothing would ever change."Why are you here? What do you see in me? I'm just a third-rate duelist. Mediocre at best. A mutt. Loser dog. I'll never be first at anything, right? So why do you bother with me?" He snarled.He felt a stab of pain as Jou threw his own words in his face. Yet felt a wave of affection for the other boy, too, despite his accusations.His answer was to kiss him, gently running his tongue along Jou's lower lip. Jou responded hungrily, sliding his tongue deep into Kaiba's yielding mouth, greedily exploring him with his tongue, before roughly pushing him away."Stop it!" Jou gasped, eyes flashing. Rebuffed, Kaiba stroked Jou's hair gently, tenderly ran his hand over his unspoiled cheek."Jou-pup, you do not know how much I regret saying those words to you.""You were only speakin' the truth! I was stupid to think that I'd ever mean anything to anyone. That I'd ever be anything other than my old man -- a useless drunk!" he spat with venom. "Now I know why my mom left ME behind. She knew it too! I'm JUST AS WEAK AS HE IS!""Don't say that! You are far better than that. YOU. AREN'T. WEAK." He crushed his body on top of Jou's, pinning him to the bed. He nuzzled into the crook of Jou's neck, softly whispering to him."You mean more to me than you could ever guess. More than I ever fathomed anyone but Mokuba could mean to me. When I took you home on Monday, you WERE first. First in so many ways."He trailed kisses down Jou's neck, then buried his face in the silken strands of his hair, breathing his scent, committing it to memory. They both lay motionless, he could feel Jou's heart pounding against his chest, his own beating hard inside his ribcage.He lifted himself up. "Come, let me clean up your face. Then I want you to tell me everything that happened.*****He was at his best when he had determined a course of action and was working towards its completion. Whether it was planning and implementing the hostile takeover of a rival company, or simply training a dog, focusing his mind on the steps necessary and taking action had a calming effect. It fueled his determination, his indefatigability in the face of all odds. It was that doggedness combined with his intelligence that had brought to him all manner of success.Kaiba Seto did not give up. If he reached a dead end, he would poke and prod and worry the obstacle untile he had figured a new approach, another angle.He should have been angry at Jounouchi's outburst, should have railed at him, cut him apart with insults and slurs. But something about the situation he found the other boy and his father in resonated within Kaiba.It unearthed some the desolation he'd felt standing alone in maelstrom of his stepfather's rage. How in his own weakness he'd wished for a champion to save him, even as he accepted the blame for bringing Gozaburo into his and Mokuba's lives. He'd been a fool to strike that bargain, and he shouldered the fallout without complaint, but the cost to him had been dear.So here he was once again, tending to a subdued Jou. They were in the apartment's tiny bathroom, Jou seated on the closed seat of the toilet, he wedged between the sink and the opposite wall. He gently swabbed away the dried blood from the gash, cleaned the rest of Jou's face. Thought of the times he'd cleaned his own face of blood and tears that were spilt at by the hands of Gozaburo.He didn't like that Jou was so unresponsive. So beaten down. He hadn't said anything since they left his room. Barely acknowledged the Kaiba's presence, mechanically followed his directions. Kaiba tilted Jou's chin up, looked deeply into distant, cloudy eyes. He wanted to see the fire burning in Jou's eyes, the passion, the defiance with which he carved through adversity."Hey," Kaiba said softly. Saw them snap to focus on him. Wherever he'd been, he was now in the room with him again."Seto? I need ta get back to my bed. I need to sleep. Will you stay with me? I don' wanna be alone."He thought about the time he was spending here, how it ate away at the hours he knew he should be working. The email, voicemail that was piling up. The projects that were being held up without his feedback. All of it would need to be attended to.But his puppy needed him."You need a shower," Kaiba said, turning the water on in the stall, adjusting the temperature. "Stand up."Jou did as he was told. He was immobilized with the exhaustion that had crept over his body. Under Kaiba's gentle care, the anger that had consumed him dissipated, the self-pity dwindled to nothing, in its place a bone-tiredness.It registered that Kaiba had come for him. To see him. And here he remained now, tending to him. As he scraped himself up from the self-loathing he'd been wallowing in, he realized that maybe it could after all turn out okay. It had only been one slip-up. He knew his father would come home from the meeting remorseful, begging forgiveness, and he knew eventually he would give it. It was the same scene that he and his father were destined to play over and over again.He let Kaiba undress him. Watched dazed as Kaiba disrobed and steered him into the shower. He closed his eyes and stood under the warm cascade, arms limp at his sides. Felt slender fingertips massage shampoo into his hair, carefully rinsing out the lather. Thought if he wasn't so damned exhausted he'd be all over the body that touched him at random intervals.Kaiba was washing his body now. The intimacy of the act was not lost on Jou's foggy brain. There was no erotic overtone to it, just a tenderness that defied description. He leaned against Kaiba, allowing him to thoroughly bathe him.Now he was being gently toweled dry. He felt consciousness slipping away, knees weakening, unable to hold up his weight for much longer."Please. Bed" he whispered hoarsely."Okay, pup." Kaiba grabbed discarded clothes and guided Jou back to his room, searched his dresser for a clean t-shirt and pair of underwear and helped him into them, Jou swaying drunkenly.He crawled into his bed, sliding as close to the wall as he could, curling on his side, making room for Kaiba to lie next to him on the narrow mattress. Kaiba closed the blind on the window, put on his t-shirt and briefs, and slid into bed and spooned Jou. He slid his hand between Jou's elbow and waist, over his flat stomach planes, pulled him close in an embrace.Jou was breathing evenly, already asleep. Kaiba kissed the nape of his neck softly, pressing lips into damp hair. In the dim light, He began to try to reconstruct what exactly had happened here in the past three days, probing the bits and pieces, but admitted with frustration that he did not have enough information.He sighed, wondering exactly what he'd gotten himself into. * * * Isao felt guilty leaving his son to go to an AA meeting, knowing well he was responsible for the state Jou was in, yet it was he who could escape into a loving accepting environment. One where he would find the support to help him reclaim the path to his sobriety, no matter how many times he slipped.It hadn't always been like this. At one time his life held so much promise. He had been a scientist at a Astra Zeneca, a Japanese drug manufacturer. He spearheaded a team developing a medicine to treat cancer patients, one that had shown much promise extending their lives.Life had been good then. He'd had a young, beautiful Japanese-American wife and two small children to take care of and was a rising star in cancer research. In fact, if he'd stayed on the research team, today he'd be a renowned scientist. While it didn't cure cancer, the medication had proven to be effective. Today thousands of cancer patients were able to live longer and healthier because of research he'd been a part of.But it had been the pressure to complete the research and get the drug into trials that had begun his spiral into alcoholism. At first a couple of drinks served to take the edge off after a long day in the lab dealing as go-between for his team and their drug company employer. Always having to buffet the urgency to push forward with the fact that good scientific method took time, needed to be done right. Before long his drinking affected his work, and he became a liability to the company. He lost his job, and soon after, his wife and daughter.He had begged her to take both children with her. He'd still been sober enough to see how it hurt his son to be left behind, to be judged inadequate. But she had never been able to handle Katsuya well. At times she would swear to Isao the boy had the devil in him. As a toddler, he'd been a non-stop bundle of energy. Demanding of her time, her attention, her love. He'd never been full-out jealous of his younger sister, rather he resented the time she took up in his mother's life.While he was a charming boy, it belied his tendency to be a royal pain in the ass. Katsuya was not one to follow instructions, to abide by rules that he believed were arbitrary or unfair. He got into everything, there wasn't a cupboard or drawer that he couldn't open and rifle through. Anything left unattended, even if it were out of reach, was fair game, from pens and pencils to scissors and knives. It wasn't that Anita was neglectful, it was just Katsuya was so resourceful in his ability to get his hands on whatever he knew he shouldn't have. And, the angrier his mother got at his behavior, the bigger the smile he would grace her with.As a pre-teen, Jou's headstrong tendencies lead him deeply astray, but somehow, he'd managed to turn it around. Isao knew that it had not been because of he and Anita, but in spite of them. It saddened him deeply, and though he'd not been a good father all the time, he'd done the best he could, struggling as he was with his own problems. He did not justify the abuse and neglect, only acknowledged the circumstances.Ignoring what Katsuya had told him in anger would only prove further his own inadequacies as a parent. After his meeting ended, Isao called his ex-wife to talk about Katsuya's revelation, and she agreed to meet him over coffee.While he waited for Anita at a local coffee shop, he thought about the situation. If Katsuya were straight, he knew the kind of fatherly advice that was warranted. To be respectful, to be careful. He would be able to warn him about using protection so that he could avoid becoming a teenage father, avoid any of the myriad STDs including AIDS he could contract, that he had his life in front of him.He was unsure of how to proceed. Not just because he wasn't sure of the advice he could or should give, though he suspected be respectful and careful would fit that bill just fine, it was the way in which Jou had confided in him that gave him most pause. It was clearly meant to hurt him. Did Katsuya think it shameful to be gay, or that he would be ashamed of him? If that were so, Isao knew he needed to make sure Katsuya understood that in either case he was wrong.No, he could not ignore their conversation, though he guessed his son wouldn't mind if in his drunken stupor he had conveniently forgot.He saw his ex-wife through the storefront window. She looked stunning, as always, well put together, sleek black hair pulled tightly in a neat ponytail, just enough makeup to highlight her fine cheeks, her full lips. She must have come straight from work, she was still wearing a charcoal business suit. He imagined that unencumbered with her alcoholic husband and unruly son, she'd been able to focus on her career and continued to excel in financial services."Isao, you look like shit." She sat across from him, and fumbled in her purse for her cigarettes."You know those are bad for you," he answered.She cast him a sidelong glance at him with her deep brown eyes, "You lost any right to lecture me when you signed the divorce papers."He sighed. It wasn't a good sign if she was so defensive already."So what trouble has Katsuya gotten himself into this time?" She asked."It's nothing like that. I mean, we had a falling out, but that isn't what I called you for.""Had a falling out? It looks like you were in a fistfight." She was trying to put him on the defensive, strike first blood."Look, Anita, I didn't ask you to meet me so that we could rehash our past mistakes--""Looks like some are still present ones, Isao."He could feel his temper building. Counted slowly to ten before he spoke."Please, let me finish. This isn't about us, this is about our son. He needs his parents right now, not Isao and Anita and their endless argument over who did what to whom. You and I both know there's plenty of blame to go around." He was not alone in his failure where it concerned his son, Anita shared complicity in that.She sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just been a long day. I don't know if I have the strength for this.""Even so, he still needs you. Us." Isao said gently. They needed to be on the same side on this."Well then, what is it, Isao? What is the issue?""Katsuya has told me he's gay. He's seeing someone -- Kaiba Seto--""Kaiba Seto?" Anita snorted. "Shizuka told me they hated each other!"Isao grinned. "Evidently there was more to it than that."Anita looked at him confused. "So he's gay. Where's the issue in that?""I think he expects me to be angry at him or something. Maybe kick him out. You see, when he told me he was so angry, and even angrier when I told him it was okay. He hasn't spoken to me for the past three days.""And you think I can help you, how? He's not going to speak to me about this, certainly won't hear advice from me!""That I know, but you are his mother, and you needed to be told," he said, resigned."Isao, he will come around. You've always been able to get through to him in ways I never could. He needs you as much as you need him."They sat in silence for a while, before Anita checked her watch. She patted his hand as she stood up. "I have to leave. Call me and let me know what happens."Please, tell him I love him." He saw twin tears slip down her cheeks."You should tell him that yourself," he admonished gently, watching her disappear out the door. * * *He didn't know how long he lay next to Jou, watching the shadows in the room deepen as the sun faded. The color shifted to accommodate the streetlight that had turned on. He heard the front door to the apartment close, sensed the tensing in Jou's body, the immediate alertness."Lock the door!" Jou hissed.Kaiba did so hurriedly. As he turned back, he saw the outline of Jou's form in the gloom, lay back down next to him."You know--" he began, but his mouth was covered by Jou's, his tongue exploring Kaiba, causing shockwaves once again to reverberate down his spine. He felt his heart racing, beating erratically against his chest as Jou deepened the kiss. He groaned as he felt his desire mounting, broke away for air.Jou tangled his fingers in Kaiba's silky hair, nuzzled into his neck, trailing nips and kisses down bare skin, feeling Kaiba's pulse as they brushed his neck, listened to his soft moans.He pulled his thoughts together, whispering "Katsuya, you cannot stay in here forever. You need to speak with your father."Jou sighed. Kaiba had spoke what he was thinking. "Yes, I know. I just wanted a chance ta kiss ya.""Mmmm. I can't say I'm unhappy about that," Kaiba smirked. "But it makes me want to do more." He pulled Jou back into a kiss, sliding his tongue along his bottom lip before plunging deeply into the moist heat.He broke away again. "Listen, I need to go to the office and catch up on some work. How about I take you out for a late dinner?""Ya mean a date?""Yes, a date. You do have some decent clothes?"Jou bit his neck, eliciting a yelp. "I know you ain't that interested in what I'll be wearing."He smiled. Of course Jou was right, because if he had his way, Jou wouldn't be wearing anything for very long."But ya do need ta go. I need ta talk to my old man. Clear tha air about some things."*****Kaiba let himself out of Jou's room and closed the door behind him. Jou heard the muffled voices of his father and Kaiba in brief conversation, felt anxiety wash over him. It would be so much easier if he could just stay in his room. Or maybe forget the past three days happened. Except for sleeping with Kaiba.He heard the front door close, then listened to his father rattling dishes around in the kitchen, the whistle blowing on the teakettle, willing himself to get up off the bed, open his door, talk to his father. Suddenly, he heard soft rapping at his door, his father calling out "Katsuya?" He must have dozed off."Hold on Dad." He swung out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, opened the door to his father, bearing a tray with a sandwich and hot tea."I made you something to eat."He took the tray from his father and put it on his bed. His father reached out and wrapped his arms around Jou, hugging him tightly. They stood like that wordlessly, Jou feeling the sting of tears in his eyes, as the contact rubbed his raw emotions."You must be hungry, you haven't eaten for three days," Isao said, looking past Jou, not able to look at his son's face.He stepped back from his father, tilted his head to the side and looked at him. "C'mon Dad, ya did go ta sleep." He smiled, he had offered an olive branch.His father smiled back at him softly. "We make some pair, don't we?""Dad, I'm really sorry I hit you." Jou said seriously."I'm sorry too, Katsuya. I promised you I'd never hit you again ..." he trailed off, searching for the right words."Look, I can't promise that I won't drink again. But you know I'm trying real hard to stop. And I want to make sure this doesn't happen again. The next time I come home drunk, I want you to call my sponsor. He will come, no matter what time it is." He handed Jou a slip of paper with a name and cell number on it. "You don't need to take care of me, you need to take care of yourself, and as much as it hurts me, that means getting away from me when I'm like that."Jou regarded his father for a moment. "Dad, I can't just walk away--""But you have to. We have to break this cycle. When I'm drunk, I can't stop myself from lashing out at you. But you can. You can leave. Or not come home. I've spoken to Yuugi's grandfather, you are always welcome there. Any time."Jou felt a twinge of embarrassment. He'd always been meticulous about his home life, never letting on it was anything less than average. None of his friends knew about his father's drinking, in fact they knew very little about Jou's private life at all, and he was fine with that."Katsuya, it's time you started taking care of yourself. And speaking of that, can you tell me how it is that you've started to date your sworn enemy?"Jou blushed, fully embarrassed now. * * * He waited nervously in the vestibule of the apartment building for Kaiba to pick him up. It had taken him a long time to decide on what to wear, much longer than he'd ever spent on picking out clothes, finally settling on a pair of tight black jeans and a slinky green long-sleeved tee that Shizuka had gotten for him for his birthday.He was relieved that his father had been more than accepting that he was gay. After he'd blurted it out, it had terrified him that he might lose the only family he had. He smiled to himself. He and his dad's relationship was far from perfect, and there were still tough times ahead, but they did care about each other, love each other. And that had to count for something.He watched the sleek black stretch pull up and bounded out to the curb before it was fully stopped. The rear passenger door swung open and he climbed in.Kaiba wasted no time with greetings. He grabbed Jou and kissed him deeply and roughly, communicating his pent-up desire. His eyes flashed brilliant blue, a preditatory hunger that made Jou feel unquestionnably like quarry. He closed his eyes, allowing his other senses to drink in the pleasure that radiated through his body.He slid his hands under Kaiba's shirt, caressing his taut belly, over the slight protrustion of his ribs, across his dusky nipples. A soft moan encouraged Jou to play with them, rolling them between his index fingers and thumbs, feeling them blossom into hard nubs from the contact.He straddled Kaiba, felt a surge of electricity as their crotches and mouths pressed together harder, if they were any closer they'd be inside each other's skin. He traced Kaiba's jawline with licks and kisses, following it up to his ear, slipping his teeth around the tender flesh, tugging at it gently.Kaiba whispered hoarsely, "Slow down Pup, or we'll never make it through dinner.""Mmmm," he purred suggestively, "I'd rather eat you. 'Sides, you started it," he accused. His hands traveled southward, reaching Kaiba's belt buckle, before his wrists were grabbed roughly and he was stopped."And so I'm finishing it. There will be time enough for that later." Kaiba's face was a mask, unreadable. Jou stared at him defiantly, before slowly retreating to the unoccupied space next to him on the leather bench, causing Kaiba to let go of Jou's wrists. After all he was being offered dinner. Fucking could wait.Kaiba clasped Jou's hand in his, Jou leaned against Kaiba comfortably and sighed. He tried to wrap his head around the reality that he was here with Kaiba, they were going on a date, and would probably, no, definitely end up having some amazing sex, if Monday night had been any indication things to come. It was blissful.Kaiba cast a sidelong glance over Jou. "You clean up pretty well," he admitted. He let go of Jou's hand, and rubbed his along his firm thigh, sliding it between Jou's legs."Hey, hey, hey!" Jou exclaimed. "There ya go again," he teased. "How do you expect me ta keep my hands offa you when you're gettin me all hot and bothered?"Kaiba smirked at him, "Discipline and obedience."Jou scowled. "You don't own me."Kaiba shook his head and smirked knowingly, "Believe what you want. Your body tells me otherwise."Now Jou was glaring at him, and Kaiba realized that as much as he'd been turned on by Jou's submission, he was far more attracted to Jou when he was fired up and his amber eyes blazed with passion. It didn't matter to Kaiba if the source of that passion were anger or arousal, only that it was focused on him."Whatever," Jou said coldly.Kaiba only smirked harder.They arrived at the restaurant just in time, as far as Kaiba was concerned. It was all he could do to keep his hands off the other boy, to keep his mind from fantasizing about the things he'd like to do to him.Think about work. Think about reviewing code, sitting in interminable investor meetings, listening to his board of directors droning on endlessly. All thoughts shot through with images of Jou -- his face contorted with pleasure, body flushed from lovemaking.Not work. Then, school. Think about English. English grammar. Irregular verbs. Why were there so many fucking irregular English verbs? He was acutely aware of Jou's body pressed against his. Reminded of the way he shivered involuntarily as Kaiba explored his body with hands, with his lips, his tongue. The way his nipples hardened between his teeth when he bit them lightly. Kaiba felt the sweat bead on his forehead, a sheen covering his bare arms. He swallowed hard, it was way too hot in the car. * * * He'd chosen a tiny, exclusive sushi bar that offered private tatami rooms. He wanted to be out with Jou, but wasn't ready for the onslaught of media attention that was sure to follow when it was discovered that Japan's most eligible bachelor was dating. He wondered absently how Jou and his family might handle that inevitable fact.Gossip magazines had already outted him, so he was unconcerned about the effect it would have on his company's bottom line. It would be negligible. But he protected his private life at all costs. When juicy tidbits did appear in gossip columns, he tirelessly rooted out the source, methodically ruining the person who dare betray his confidence, who would sell his privacy to the highest bidder.They slipped out of the car, straightened out clothes that had been rumpled in their foreplay. He'd lied to Jou, he didn't look only okay, he looked stunning. His jeans left very little to the imagination, his shirt skimmed his body, enticingly clinging in all the right places.Dinner would be a delicious torture. * * * Jou hadn't seen the inside of a nice restaurant in a long time. He tried vainly to remember when, knew vaguely it had been someone's birthday. His father had drank too much, and his parents had ended up fighting. He stole a glance at Kaiba as he spoke to the hostess. God, he was hot, Jou had to touch him, placed his hand lightly at his waist, to prove to himself this wasn't a dream.They removed their shoes and accepted slippers from the hostess, then followed her to the private room Kaiba had reserved. Kaiba ushered Jou in front of him, and took a seat next to him, rather than across the low table. He was trapped.Jou had all but forgotten the nervousness he felt, now it returned in full force. They had the sex part down, that was for sure, but what would he and Kaiba talk about? Usually their verbal communications revolved around trading insults, and though he'd discovered that could lead to some really hot sex, but could just as easily lead to a fistfight. He opted to let Kaiba initiate any conversation.He opened the menu in front of him and panicked at the prices. The appetizers cost more than what he had in his pocket. He'd assumed Kaiba was picking up the tab, it occurred to him belatedly that maybe he should have made sure of that."Umm, Seto?" Kaiba was working on his neck, licking the sensitive spot where his ear met his jaw. "I--I don't really have enough money to pay for my dinner.""You'll pay later," Kaiba whispered in his ear wickedly, sending a shiver up Jou's spine.Kaiba ordered for them both, shooting Jou a glare when he opened his mouth in protest. After the waitress left they sat in awkward silence, Jou pointedly skirting around the events of the past three days, Kaiba waiting for him to offer an explanation.Kaiba broke the silence. "Were you able to settle your differences with your father?""Mmmhmm," Jou answered, familiar anxiety building. He did not want to talk about his fight with his dad."What happened between you?"Jou sighed. That was Kaiba, right to the point. "I don't wanna talk about it."Kaiba rolled his eyes in annoyance, considered the facts as he knew them. It couldn't be about Jou's sexuality. Jou's father had cornered him before he'd left the apartment with a standard parental warning that he should respect his son and not take advantage of him. Kaiba had assured the elder Jounaouchi that was not his intention. It had been a rather endearing exchange, but it didn't erase the fact in Kaiba's mind that Jounouchi had hit his son, left a gash on his cheek. There was little doubt in his mind that Jou's father had initiated the fight.The uncomfortable silence was broken again by Kaiba. "My stepfather was a bastard. After he adopted me, he would beat me whenever he wanted to. Mokuba and I were not his children, we were his property. I hated him. It made me very happy when he died because I thought I was finally free of him."Jou looked at him evenly. Wrapping his mind around the idea, the fact that Kaiba had just told him something deeply personal, something he'd probably never told anyone else before."It musta sucked to hafta live like that," he said quietly. He ran his hand along Kaiba's thigh."It did," Kaiba agreed. "But I survived, he didn't. I beat him, I won." He placed his hand over Jou's, brought it to his lips and kissed it.Jou closed his eyes, felt the pressure of Kaiba's lips against his palm, tears threatening to slip out."It's not like that with me and my dad," he said finally. "It's different, we really love each other. It's just ..." his voice trailed off, he was embarrassed once again. Why? He thought. His father had long ago admitted his disease openly, accepted help frome wherever he could get it. Why ws he so embarrassed, so unwilling to admit to a problem he had no control over?Kaiba watched Jou attentively, sensed the internal struggle, argument being turned over in his mind."I can see that," he encouraged. "He warned me that I should treat you right.""He WHAT?" Jou blushed profusely."He's quite concerned for your well-being," Kaiba smirked.Jou looked away as the waitress brought plates of food to them, momentarily distracted by the artful arrangement on the food placed in front of him."Ya see, my dad has a drinking problem. When he gets drunk, he kinda takes his problems out on me." He felt a great weight lifting off his chest. "On Monday, I kinda lost it. I hit him back."He's been doing good lately, going ta meetings, he even had gotten a job. It wasn't much, but it was somethin'. He got laid off Monday. That's what set him off. Before that he hadn't had a drop to drink in over a year."Kaiba's eyes narrowed. He was deep in his own thoughts. Jou had presented him with a problem, now his brain was off and running, analyzing, weighing solutions.*****Jou looked absently at the remains of dinner on his plate. He had relaxed quite a bit. Their conversation had ebbed and flowed naturally with few awkward silences. As Kaiba took care of the check, a thought occurred to him."So when did ya realize you liked me?" he asked."I think I was attracted to you the first time I saw you. Then you had to open your mouth and ruin it.""Nah, when did ya start ta really like me?" Jou persisted, ignoring the barb."I'm still learning to," Kaiba smirked."C'mon, I'm tryin' ta be serious here!""When you joined the track team," Kaiba replied after thinking a few seconds."How did it happen?""What do you mean 'how did it happen?'""You know, what changed?"Kaiba stared off thoughtfully for a moment. "It was the dog training book," he said finally."The WHAT?""The book I was reading, remember? Kobi reminded me of you, you were both annoying and unruly, and I thought that I could apply some of what I was reading to--""Ya fucking used a dog-training book on me?!""It seemed like a good idea at the time," Kaiba defended.Jou sat silent a moment, digesting what Kaiba had revealed. He was insulted, to say the least. He reminded Kaiba of his dog. He felt anger coursing through his body."You are such an ass," he hissed. Then realized that at the same time Kaiba was plotting, he had been as well, and it struck him suddenly as hysterically funny. He erupted into wild laughter."What's so funny, inu?" Kaiba sneered."You. Me. Us." Jou's eyes narrowed. "Ya know, I don't mind ya calling me 'puppy,' 'mutt,' if ya say it with a smile on your face, but if ya want ta get laid tonight, don't call me 'inu.'"Kaiba thought carefully before speaking again. He most definitely wanted to get laid. "So what's so funny?" He asked again.Jou wiped tears from his eyes. "Well, while you were working on me, I was using psychology to work on you.""You were using psychology? I didn't know you even knew how to spell 'psychology.'" Kaiba retorted."Yep, psychology." Jou let this insult pass without comment as well. For some reason, he wasn't bothered by them."You used fucking psychology." Kaiba repeated. "I honestly don't want to know ..." His words were lost as he too began to laugh. Hard."Hey! At least it was about people!" Jou responded defensively. "You were using a fucking dog training book! Not only are you an ass, you're a kinky ass!""I was only using the tools at hand," Kaiba said weakly, recovering from his bout of laughter.Jou pushed himself into Kaiba's lap. He was at a loss for words, he had no retort, no wisecrack at the ready. He was left only with the desire to be in Kaiba's arms. To kiss him and be kissed back.Kaiba groaned with pleasure. "Let's get the hell out of here, pup." * * * Kaiba instructed his chauffeur to drive aimlessly for an hour before returning to Jou's apartment.He climbed into the limo, but rather than sit on the bench, he sat on the floor, stretching his long legs up the aisle. He pulled Jou into an embrace in his lap.Jou kissed him hungrily. He pushed himself up and straddled Kaiba, pressing his growing erection into him, feeling Kaiba harden under the pressure of his seat. He laced his fingers through Kaiba's silky chestnut hair, running his hands down the nape of his neck, over his shoulders, his biceps.Kaiba's hands traveled down his sides, around his waist, over the small of his back, tugging the hem of his shirt up, pulling it over his head. He wrest his arms free and tossed it aside as Kaiba captured a nipple in his mouth, Jou moaned and released a ragged breath as circles of pleasure radiated from that tiny point of contact, his erection pressing tightly against the confines of his jeans.He reached for Kaiba's shirt, overwhelmed with the need to feel the heat of his body against his own, to run his hands across the fine planes of his chest and stomach, to gaze at the perfection of his skin.Kaiba stretched the nipple away from Jou's body before losing contact as Jou completed removing his shirt, Jou shivered from the slight pain Kaiba's teeth inflicted, then moaned again as Kaiba's tongue soothed the punished nub. He began to grind his body against the other boy, as Kaiba's hands snaked under Jou's ass and lifted him, so he could trail nips and kisses down Jou's torso.Jou arched his back with pleasure, pushing his waistline closer to Kaiba's wandering tongue, willing him southward, panting with anticipation, as he felt Kaiba's hands slide around his hips, settling at the button of his fly. He felt a gentle tug, a loosening of his jeans, then a hand slipping under the waistband of his underpants, softly caressing his erection."Mmmm. God that feels so good, please don't stop," he purred.He was kneeling now, pressing his cock upward, shuddering with anticipation, ready to beg Kaiba to suck it, knowing he wouldn't need to, Kaiba was already rolling down his underwear freeing him, his tongue circling the velvety head before wrapping his lips around him and pulling him in deeper."Oh god," he managed before he lost the ability to form words to primal groans that escaped in rhythm with Kaiba's movements. His hands felt Kaiba's facial muscles working on him, he began to thrust deeper, Kaiba taking everything he was giving, before rudely pushing him away. He wasn't about to suck Jou off just yet.He dropped back down into Kaiba's lap, crushing their lips together, his tongue deep into Kaiba's mouth, hands racing over Kaiba's body, over his hardened nubs, feeling his erection quickening. He slid his body down between Kaiba's outstretched legs, tonguing one nipple, then gently biting the other, listening now to Kaiba's ragged panting, the desire to pleasure him building up inside Jou.He undid Kaiba's pants, face buried in his crotch, mouthing over his sex, feeling it pulse through the soft cotton of his underwear."Nnnn," Kaiba moaned, pushing his underwear down, freeing his erection, as Jou covered its velvet head with his mouth, relishing the salty taste of his pre cum as he slid his tongue along the slit, before taking him in deeper, while pushing down on Kaiba's hips, preventing him from bucking them."Augghhh," Kaiba growled in frustration, pushing fruitlessly against Jou's weight."I want to fuck you right now. I want to slide into your tight, hot tunnel," Kaiba whispered, reaching into a low compartment for a tube of lubricant."Mmmm," Jou moaned around his cock, feeling it pulse, feeling his own spasm in response. He let go, and pushed his jeans and underwear down, pulling them off his legs, then yanked on Kaiba's pants. Kaiba lifted his hips to help, while Jou pulled them down his legs, discarding them too.They pressed their naked bodies together as Kaiba spread the lubricant on the fingers of one hand, sliding them up the inside of Jou's thigh, before plunging one digit into his entrance as he kissed Jou deeply.The intrusion was not lost on Jou, but its slenderness only served to make him need to be filled up more, to feel the friction of Kaiba's cock against the insides of his walls. He grinded against the digit, as Kaiba added the second and third in quick succession. Jou was already ready, but Kaiba was growing more excited, knowing the delay was causing Jou to squirm with desire and anticipation."I want you to slide your ass onto me," he ordered as he scissored his fingers inside Jou. He slid his free hand over Jou's chest, wrapping it around his erection, stroking it in rhythm to Jou's movements."Ahhhhh," was all Jou could manage. As he felt the loss of Kaiba's fingers, he tilted his pelvis forward, grasping Kaiba's erection with his hand, guiding it to his entrance, before lowering himself down slowly. His eyes rolling up at the sensation of being filled with Kaiba's hard cock, his own weight burying it deep inside.Kaiba bent his knees to allow Jou a backrest and to give himself more leverage as he thrust deep into him."You are so fucking hot, so fucking tight," Kaiba growled as he stroked and rubbed Jou's erection in time with his thrusts. He kept his pace slow and even, awash in the pleasure generated from the movement.The sounds Jou made while being fucked, music to Kaiba's ears, pushing him closer and closer to ecstasy. He held himself back though, wanting first to bring Jou to completion, to watch as his essence spilled out and covered them both. He knew from Jou's erratic movements, the crescendo of his cries, he was very close.Kaiba slowed his stroking, but exerted more pressure with his hand as he regarded Jou's widening eyes, watched as they unfocused, then shut tight as he spasmed in Kaiba's hands, cum spurting out over them, onto Kaiba's abdomen and chest. Kaiba crushed their bodies together, smearing the cum between them as he thrust harder and faster into Jou, feeling his release immanent, building from the base of his cock, before shooting forth into his lover in one last thrust."You are so fucking good," Jou whispered hoarsely."So I can assume you aren't too upset about the book then.""On no, you'll still be paying fah that, my friend."Kaiba smiled at Jou's statement. It was true, they weren't only lovers, they had become friends.*****As they lay together on the floor of the limo basking in the afterglow, once again Kaiba's mind focused on Jou's family situation. Kaiba knew that Jou and his father were in trouble financially, he didn't need to be a genius to figure that out. He began to struggle back into his clothes, deep in thought."What did your father do before he was laid off?" he asked Jou suddenly.At first Kaiba had considered offering Jou a part-time position at Kaiba Corp. to help offset his father's unemployment. But the thought of having him so nearby at school, at track, and then at work made Kaiba more than uneasy, it was downright claustrophobic. He was by nature a loner, someone who needed a lot of space for himself. Plus, he reasoned, Jou would be less than appreciative of such obvious charity.Jou regarded Kaiba sleepily. The sex combined with the past three sleepless days was catching up fast. "He worked assembling electronics at Toshiba."Kaiba knew he could easily arrange for the elder Jounouchi to work somewhere in one of Kaiba Corp's. manufacturing facilities. That was a no-brainer, if he could stay sober. He remembered Jou had said that his father been doing well while he'd been employed."But before that, before he started drinkin' too much, he was a scientist," Jou added.Kaiba grabbed Jou's shirt. "Come on, you need to get dressed, we're almost to your building." Jou accepted it, then reached for his other clothes."A scientist?" Kaiba echoed."Yah, he led some team that discovered some cancer drug. But the pressure was too much for him -- he was constantly arguing with his bosses who wanted everything yesterday, and keeping his team happy. Why're you so interested?" Jou asked suspiciously. He finished dressing and sat next to Kaiba."Just curious," Kaiba answered evenly. They were reclining together on the bench, Jou watching the city lights reflect off the glass of the limo's tinted windows."Yeah right. I tend ta doubt that.""I can't be curious?""You aren't curious without a reason ta be."A small grin played across Kaiba's lips. He'd never considered Jou to be perceptive before. Hell, he hadn't considered him to be anything but a loser before. A hot, sexy loser, who both annoyed and attracted him, but a loser just the same. For once in his life, Kaiba was happy to be proved wrong."I'm considering offering your father a position at Kaiba Corp.," he admitted."I don't think that's such a good idea, Set," Jou replied, leaning his head on Kaiba's shoulder."Oh? Explain."Jou squirmed closer to Kaiba, craving his touch, his scent, his heat. He sighed. "It wouldn't be right for you ta just give him a job. For him ta get a job just because--""Because what? Because of you? People give and get jobs all the time because of who they know. That's how businesses run.""Yah, but--""But what?" Kaiba continued. He knew all these arguments. They were lame. They were annoying. "Do you think he wouldn't need to work? I don't give jobs in name only. He would need to work hard, just as all my employees do."He could feel Jou's body tensing. "Pup, this would bear no relationship to us.""How can you say that? We're talkin' about my father. If he fucked up--"Kaiba shook his head. "If he fucked up, there would be a safety net. Kaiba Corp. has an excellent substance abuse program. Inpatient and out. I'm sure it would be better than--""Look, I know my old man. He ain't gonna go for it.""How do you know that? You don't even know what kind of position I'd be offering him," Kaiba snorted. "It just so happens that I've purchased a small drug manufacturer that has been researching Alzheimer's Disease. With Kaiba Corp's funding, the researchh can be expanded. They will need to hire experienced scientists." Kaiba turned to Jou. "I'm not foolish. Your father would be hired at an entry level, but if he's intelligent, he would jump at the opportunity. It's a second chance, one I'm sure he's not getting offered by anyone else."Kaiba was right, of course. Jou saw all the ads his father circled when he looked for work. They were always research jobs of some type. He only took the job at Toshiba because someone at AA had told him they were hiring. He hadn't been happy about it, but took it just the same.He allowed himself to think what it would be like if his father were happy. Would they be able to move forward from these years of struggling? Would they look back at this time as a bump in the road of life, a mere blip on the radar screen?The limo pulled up outside Jou's building. The chauffeur opened Jou's door, he climbed out and Kaiba followed."Ya don't hafta see me to my door," Jou smiled."I intend to make sure you're okay," Kaiba replied. "If your father is drunk, you are not staying.""S'okay, really. If my dad has been drinking, I can go ta Yuugi's. It's been arranged.""I don't think so. If your father is drunk, you will come home with me."No argument there, Jou thought as he climbed up the stairs ahead of Kaiba.Kaiba smiled at the view. * * * Isao looked up from the couch when he heard Jou's keys jingle against the door. He'd been studying the want ads, looking for any kind of job that would keep them off social welfare."Hey Dad, how ya doing?" Jou asked, surprised his father was still awake. Kaiba shadowed him into the room."Okay," he sighed, putting down the paper. "I'm glad you're home relatively early, you will be going to school tomorrow?" He asked quirking an eyebrow."Yeah," Jou shrugged. "What have you been up ta, Dad?""Reading through the want ads, I have a few leads for tomorrow," Isao replied. "Did you boys have fun?""Yeah," Jou said, glancing at Kaiba."What did you do?""Umm, we just grabbed a bite to eat, and talked."Isao smiled at them. He could see how happy his son was, felt a pang of nostalgia thinking about his first love. How all-consuming it had been, how happy he'd felt."Mr. Jounouchi, Katsuya tells me that you have experience in research.""Yes, that seems like a lifetime ago though," Isao said sadly."I understand," Kaiba simply said. After a pause, he added "I may have a position for you at a company I recently acquired.Isao looked at Kaiba dumbly. He was just a boy, what was he talking about. Slowly the pieces started to fall into place. The name Kaiba ..."Dad, Seto owns Kaiba Corp."Kaiba could see the realization dawn in the older man's face. It hadn't occurred to him that Jou's father wouldn't know who he was."I see."There was an uncomfortable silence as the older man regarded Kaiba.He continued. "As I was saying, there may be a position for you at a research company I've just taken over.""What kind of research?""It's a small drug manufacturer, they've had some success with a medication that helps Alzheimer's patients. Since I've taken over the company, they will be able to expand the research. They will need experienced help."In all honesty, I can't offer you much more than an entry-level position--""I understand, but if I got the position, I would not disappoint you. I don't care that it's entry level," the elder man said.Kaiba held out his hand, and the older man rose to grasp it. "Very well then, I will have someone contact you tomorrow with the details. I believe they will be staffing up by the end of next week. Will you be able to start by then?""I--I need to interview, no?""Yes, as a formality." Kaiba replied."I--I don't know how to thank you.""Just take care of yourself. Your son needs you." Kaiba replied. He was feeling constricted, needed to get out, wanted to run off some of the day's tensions.He turned to Jou. "Do you want me to pick you up on the way to school tomorrow?"Jou thought a moment. A ride in the limo was tempting, but he doubted they'd make it to school on time."Nah, I'm gonna swing by Yuugi's. I haven't seen him in a while.""I'll see you in school." Kaiba replied icily. Jou didn't miss the glare from his blue eyes before he slipped out the door."Seto, wait!" Jou chased after him.He wheeled around in the narrow hallway, clenched his jaw tightly. "What is it?"Jou took his hand, pulling him close. "Don't be mad, Yuugi's my best friend ... Don't make me choose," he said carefully."I'm not making you anything," Kaiba replied stubbornly."You're mad because ya think I chose him over you," Jou insisted. "I need you, but I need my friends too. And I don't want you to get sick of me," he smiled and kissed Kaiba chastely on the lips.He thawed a little at the brush of Jou's lips. "You're right. We both need space." He felt the jealousy that had been building dissolving away.He kissed Jou back, running his tongue over his soft bottom lip, sliding it into Jou's mouth as his lips parted. Jou responded with equal ardor, gently biting Kaiba's upper lip, finally breaking away, uttering, "Stop that, before I change my mind!"*****Jou waited nervously for Yuugi at their usual meeting place before school, the corner across from the Game Shop. He watched the door open, expelling his friend, saw him glance furtively at the corner, then watched the huge grin break out across his face as he bounded toward Jou."Hey Jou, how are you? We've been worried about you!" Yuugi exclaimed when he saw Jou waiting for him. He passed his hand gently over Jou's bruised cheek."I'm okay Yuuge, no worse for the wear," Jou replied with his dazzling smile.The smaller boy looked at him searchingly."Jou, my grandfather told me about your dad, it's okay, please don't be embarrassed, you can always talk to me. That's what friends are for, remember? We help each other?" he admonished.Jou looked away, ashamed. He knew, of course, Yuugi would understand. Knew Honda and Anzu would as well. Suddenly it seemed so stupid that he'd hidden the truth away from all his friends.He wondered how understanding they all would be if he told them his other secrets. If he told them that not only was he gay, but he was seeing his sworn enemy. He thought maybe he should have talked to Kaiba about how he wanted it handled. Whether or not he wanted Jou to say anything at all.Fuck. Him. Jou thought angrily. After all there were two people involved here. And he had more to lose than Kaiba. His friends. Sure Kaiba Corp. could suffer. But it hadn't when the rumors about Kaiba being gay had surfaced, so why would it now? Besides, that was Kaiba's problem, not his. His problem was coming clean with his friends.Honda and Anzu met up with he and Yuugi as they continued toward school. After the usual greetings, they settled into the usual light-hearted ribbing, Jou half listening deep in his own thoughts."Um, guys? I have somethin' important to say." He interrupted, as three pairs of eyes focused on him. He breathed deeply, suddenly nervous about the bombshell he was about to drop. Briefly thought about chickening out, making up something newsworthy.They waited expectantly."C'mon bud, spill." Honda urged.He exhaled. "I'm kinda seeing someone."His statement was met with a barrage of questions."How long?""Who is she?""Is it someone we know?""When are we gonna meet her?""Okay, okay, one at a time." Jou said, stepping back and raising his hands for protection."Only a few days. It's not she, it's he." He waited for that piece of information to set in."You mean, you like, check out guys?""Honda, for chrissakes, I'm seventeen, I check out everybody! Anyone got a problem with me being gay?" Jou glowered."No!" Yuugi, Honda and Anzu replied in unison, cracking all four friends up."Good, now that we got that straight--"Honda snorted, "You said 'straight,'" setting of another round of laughter."So who's the lucky guy?" Yuugi managed, wiping a tear from his eye."Well, ya never gonna believe this, it's Kaiba.""Kaiba Seto?" Anzu asked incredulously."The one and only." Jou smiled."The same Kaiba Seto who calls you 'mutt' and insults you every chance he gets. Who, and I quote 'is a cold-hearted prick who wouldn't know a feeling if it was rammed up his ass with a ten-foot pole'? Who you've sworn over and over that you hate?" She continued."The very same one," Jou nodded."This is a joke, isn't it? Good one, Jou! You really had us going for a minute there," Honda doubled over laughing."I'm not kidding! I'm totally serious here!" Jou said indignantly.The laughter died out, giving way to silence as they continued walking."Does this mean like Kaiba's going to be nice to us now?" Anzu ventured."I said I'm dating him, don't expect miracles," Jou snorted. "One last thing, this isn't for general consumption, let's keep it between us, if ya get what I mean.""You're secret's safe with us pal," Honda said, patting Jou good-naturedly on the back. "But really, Don't. Check. Me. Out." He added."Don't worry, you're not my type." Jou shot back."Hey, what d'ya mean by that? I'm good looking!" Honda feigned a hurt look."Yah, keep tellin' yourself that." Jou laughed, grabbing him into a headlock."Jou, I'm glad you're happy," Yuugi added thoughtfully."I'm glad you're all okay with this." * * * It was the beginning lunch period. Jou was dropping his books off before heading to the cafeteria to join his friends. The day had progressed as any other day, both boys barely acknowledging either's existence, except to glance at each other surreptitiously. No one would have guessed there was anything between them."Mutt," Kaiba greeted Jou as he passed by in the hall, a small grin playing across his lips."Hey, remember what I said ta you last night," Jou warned."I believe that was for calling you 'inu,'" Kaiba corrected, "'Mutt' is not off limits."We need to talk. Now." Kaiba said, changing the subject. "The bathroom."Jou slammed his locker door closed, and followed Kaiba to the bathroom, through the door. Only to find himself pressed between it and Kaiba's body, as Kaiba simultaneously turned the lock and plundered Jou's lips, ravenously thrusting his tongue into Jou's hot mouth, running his fingers through Jou's silky hair, entwining them at the nape of his neck."Auuughhh," Jou moaned, his hands sliding inside Kaiba's trench coat, under his shirt, fingernails scraping patterns onto his back. He felt the other boy's erection pressing against his hip.He turned his head, breaking the kiss, to whisper breathlessly "I thought ya wanted ta talk.""Mmmm, this is much better," Kaiba kissed Jou again, deeper and more insistently, grinding against him. He traced his tongue along Jou's jawline, his hands exploring his shoulders and chest."Looks like somebody's happy ta see me," Jou purred, reveling in the other boy's attention."I could say the same," Kaiba replied, fondling Jou's growing erection."So what're we gonna do about it?" Jou asked suggestively."Nothing right now Pup," Kaiba replied, pulling away, "Unless you want to risk getting caught at school in a very compromising position."Jou thought a few seconds and agreed. "I don't think that would be good for either of us." * * * The rest of the day passed tortuously slow for Jounouchi. Thoughts of Kaiba and what he'd like to do to him, have done by him, invaded his studies, his note-taking, his concentration in general, causing him to fidget uncomfortably in his seat. He looked forward to track practice, to running off some of the sexual tension, to watching Kaiba's perfect ass swaying in front of him enticingly as he chased him around the track.But first he had to sit through a conversation with Mr. Kitano, to assure him that all was okay, that he was back on track, literally and figuratively."Good Katsuya. I'd hate to see all your hard work go to waste. One last thing, is everything all right between you and Mr. Kaiba?"Jou looked at his coach sheepishly. "All right, why wouldn't it be?""As you recall, I had to give you extra laps on Monday because of your behavior."Our behavior, Jou thought. It was those laps that had led to ...He smiled at his coach. "Everything's just fine between us, Mr. Kitano.""I'm glad to hear that. Now get to work." * * * He knew a thing or two about dogs, and it was time for him to teach Kaiba a lesson, Jou thought as he dressed after practice. He glanced over at Kaiba, noticed him dressing in a business suit, watched as he knotted his tie.They'd both deliberately taken their time showering and changing after track, now the locker room was empty. Jou sauntered over behind the taller boy, ran his hands through Kaiba's damp hair down his shoulders, wrapping his arms around Kaiba, capturing him in an embrace. Kaiba, leaned back into him and Jou grabbed him by his tie, turning him to face him."How 'bout we get together later?"Kaiba thought about the evening that stretched ahead of him. He had an end of week board meeting, then needed to catch up on all the projects he'd let fall by the wayside over the past few days. Plus he needed to cement the job opening he'd offered Jou's father. He was hoping to be able to make it home at a reasonable hour to spend some time with Mokuba this evening, but the temptation the boy in front him offered was just too much. He could spend all day with Mokuba tomorrow."Why don't you come with me to the office? You can catch up on your homework, while I take care of my work." He absently brushed a damp lock of hair out of Jou's eyes.Jou smiled deviously, step one of his plan was in place. "Sure, just let me check in with my dad."Belatedly, Kaiba wondered just what his pup had planned for him.*****They were on their way to Kaiba Corp. Jou wormed his way into Kaiba's lap, only to be pushed to the seat next to him."Not now, I have look good for my meeting.""I think ya look very good.""Can't you think of anything else? I can't sit at a board meeting in a rumpled suit." Kaiba rolled his eyes in mock exasperation."Lotsa things ..." Jou purred, licking Kaiba's cheek."Something that doesn't involve molesting me?" Kaiba swatted at him."Okay." Jou shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "So, umm, I told Yuugi, Honda and Anzu about us. But I swore them to secrecy!" Jou added."I figured as much," Kaiba snorted."Oh?""Yeah, Anzu was boring holes right through me last period. I finally told her to 'take a picture, it lasts longer.' For once she didn't have some snappy comeback.""So you're okay with it, with me tellin' them?"Kaiba looked evenly into Jou's amber eyes. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm not about to go into hiding because I'm dating someone--you. I'm not ashamed. Just don't expect me to be all warm and fuzzy to your friends. I find them tolerable at best.""Like I said to them, I don't expect miracles. But what about when it gets out in the papers, on TV?"Kaiba shrugged his shoulders. "The world will just have to deal. I've never denied the rumors that I am gay. Kaiba Corp.'s record speaks for itself and anyone who refuses to buy my products because of my sexuality is a customer I don't want, don't need.""So, have you told anybody?""I told Mokuba he should expect to see you around the mansion.""And?"Kaiba smiled. "He said he was happy for me, but I'd have to share you."Jou's eyes widened with alarm, "Share me?""Idiot! Not like THAT. Get your mind out of the gutter!" Kaiba hissed. "He wants to play video games with you." * * * Kaiba's office was a lot more comfortable than Jou expected. He was sitting on an overstuffed leather couch that faced Kaiba's desk, toiling away at his homework, listening absently to the cadences of Kaiba's voice as he alternately returned phone calls and delegated work to either of his two secretaries. He had a beautiful voice, Jou decided."Pup, it's time for my meeting. I've ordered in some dinner for you, I'll eat when I get back." He leaned over Jou, kissed him gently on the forehead. Glancing down at Jou's homework, he noticed a glaring error. "You've transposed those two numbers." His finger pointed to the two offending digits."Wha--?" Jou looked down at the math formula he'd been parsing, the numbers Kaiba pointed to. He'd have to start all over. "Oh, I see it now!""You must have copied it wrong off the blackboard. You should be more careful," Kaiba said as he slipped out of the office."Easy fah you to say," Jou replied, "YOU sit in front of ME."Kaiba's head ducked back through the door. "It's all about discipline, mutt." He snickered, closing the door as Jou's notebook slammed against it. * * * He'd finished his homework, and now was watching the lights of Domino City twinkle on one by one in the dusk from the floor to ceiling windows. Kaiba worked way too hard, he really needed to loosen up.There was a knock at the door, and before he could answer it, a cart was wheeled in. On it was an array of sandwiches, an ice bucket, bottled water and soda."Mr. Kaiba said you don't need to wait for him for to eat. Help yourself." The young secretary said. "His meeting has delayed him, but he should be down soon."Jou looked at the time, 8:30. He was ravenous. Then looked at the secretary. "Do you always work this late?""Yes, but I don't start until one. I'm off now, have a nice weekend." She bowed, and closed the door behind her.He poured himself a glass of soda, and dug into the sandwiches, trying to think of how best to enact his plan. He was never good at details.He knew that above all else, Kaiba needed to be in control. And because of that, Jou wanted more than anything to get him to give some of that up to him. To let him have his way with him. But how to get Kaiba to do it?When Kaiba had suggested tying him up, he'd made it sound so reasonable, made Jou want to do it for him. And it had been worth it, Jou thought, a shiver coursing through his body. Now he wanted to turn the tables, to have Kaiba helpless beneath him, to remind him that even good dogs could bite.But, wresting control from Kaiba would not be that easy. But if he made it a challenge ... Jou smiled, that was it. Kaiba never backed down from a challenge. * * * The meeting had been mind-numbingly boring. Sometimes Kaiba truly believed that his Board of Directors existed only to torment him. Profits were up, costs were down. They should be happy. But everyone had to put their two cents in, make sure they were quoted in the meeting minutes. God his head hurt.Jou was looking out the windows when Kaiba returned to his office. Wordlessly he sat down at his desk, intent on firing off some email. He was exhausted, and knew he would not be able to wade through all the work he'd wanted to. It wasn't unusual. He always had too much on his plate. He nibbled at one of the sandwiches he picked up from the cart as he read through messages.He didn't sense Jou until he felt his hands on his neck, loosening his tie. He'd come up behind Kaiba, was leaning over him."You need a break, Set." Jou said softly, undoing the knot, pulling the tie from his neck. He spun him around in his chair and straddled him. He looked deep into tired blue eyes, noticed the darkening rings under them. "You work too hard, don't take enough time for yourself, for Mokuba."Kaiba leaned back in the chair. "And just what am I supposed to do about it? This company doesn't just run itself.""How would you feel if you died tomorrow?""I wouldn't feel anything. I'd be dead."Jou sighed in frustration. "How do you think Mokuba would feel? Would he rather be rich or have a brother?"Jou had him there. It was Mokuba's argument. He was all he had. They were all each other had."So what am I supposed to do about it?" Kaiba repeated."Slow down. Delegate. Ya keep going like this and you'll be lucky to be burnt out by the time you're twenty-one, if ya ain't dead by then." He kissed Kaiba softly, tentatively, on the lips. Was answered with a crushing embrace, with Kaiba's tongue seeking entrance into his mouth.Jou pulled away, wound Kaiba's silk tie around his hand, brought both hands up to his face. "On Monday, you asked me to trust you. Can you do the same?"He felt Kaiba stiffen underneath him. "What do you mean?""I think you know." Jou said, letting the tie unwind, he slid it across Kaiba's neck."No.""'No,' you don't understand? Or 'No,' you can't trust me?" He leaned in and kissed Kaiba again, gently biting his lip, felt his cock hardening underneath him.He saw the haunted look in Kaiba's eyes, almost felt bad for pushing him, but then saw something else replace it. Something that made him smile. He was right, Kaiba couldn't back down from the challenge."Take your best shot, Mutt."Jou's eyes narrowed. "Ya gonna regret that," he said smiling.*****He wasted no time tying Kaiba's hands behind his back. Stepped back to admire his handiwork before locking the office door."No one has the key, right?""Right."He straddled Kaiba again, this time he kissed him roughly, sliding his tongue deep into Kaiba's hot mouth, feeling his body arch underneath him, his arms straining against the binds. He felt electricity as their tongues dueled, each trying to force their way deeper into the other's mouth. Jou undid the top button of Kaiba's shirt, grabbed the opened sides, and ripped it apart. Buttons plopped on the carpet."That was an expensive shirt," Kaiba groaned."So what, ya got a closet full of them." Jou's hands explored Kaiba's heated skin, found his nipples, pinched them gently, then harder as Kaiba gasped and arched against him.He got up off Kaiba's lap. "Don't go anywhere, baby," he murmured, reaching into the ice bucket.He popped a cube into his mouth, and once again sat in Kaiba's lap, the hand that had momentarily held the ice cube playing with a nipple, as he closed his mouth over Kaiba's. The cold and simultaneous heat caused Kaiba to buck uncontrollably, Jou knew he was on the right track. He pushed Kaiba's shirt down off his shoulders, pulled its tails out of his pants, exposing his expanse of perfect torso.He pulled away, spit the melting cube into his hand, trailed it along Kaiba's neck, down his chest, circling around one taut nipple, watching, fascinated, as the skin of the aureole puckered enticingly, Kaiba's moans of pleasure fueling the circles Jou traced on his skin, he slid the cube across the plane of Kaiba's chest to its neglected twin, and covered the abandoned one with his warm moist tongue."God, Jou!" Kaiba's breath was ragged, his eyes wide and unfocused. He bucked again harder and erratically. The sensations were pushing him beyond thought, he could only focus on the intense pleasure that coursed through his body, as the need to be played with, toyed with, teased, consumed him. This felt better than he ever could have imagined. "Don't stop!" He begged."Mmmm," Jou replied. The ice cube had melted, he reached behind him for another, popping it into his mouth before once again covering a nipple, this time, catching it between his teeth and pressing the cube against it. Torturing the nub until the ice cube melted away."Agghh, god!" Kaiba moaned, followed by wordless guttural noises, that Jou found incredibly arousing. He fumbled at Kaiba's waistband, undoing his belt, thinking maybe he should save it for later, before slipping his hand under Kaiba's waistband, the elastic of his briefs, palming the smooth head of his erection."Nnngh" Kaiba's head thrashed back and forth, as Jou slid off him and knelt between his legs. He pulled on the waists of Kaiba's pants and briefs, Kaiba lifted his hips and Jou slid them down his legs, pooling them on top of his shoes.He untied Kaiba's shoes, listening to his ragged breath, feeling the involuntary shudders of anticipation coursing through Kaiba's body as he carefully removed shoes, then socks, then discarded his pants and underwear.Kaiba's erection stood at full attention, head glistening with precum, Jou felt his own throbbing against his restrictive jeans. He stood up in front of Kaiba."Look at me," he commanded. Kaiba's eyes snapped open, filled with hunger and desire. "Watch me."He did as he was told, watching as Jou lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it slowly over his head. He caressed his own body, scraping fingernails across his nipples, moaning softly."You want me to fuck you, don't you?"Kaiba nodded earnestly, words having abandoned him."'Cause that's what I'm gonna do." Jou said huskily, undoing the button of his jeans. One hand played across his lower abdomen, while he unzipped his jeans with the other. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out, you little bitch. That's right. Tonight you're my bitch." He slid his jeans and underwear off his slim hips, stepping out of them as he played with his own erection.He knelt in front of Kaiba again, skimming his hands up his legs, spreading them wider. He bit the sensitive skin of Kaiba's inner thighs, tonguing into the crease of his pelvis. Kaiba's hips bucked against him, he began repeating over and over again "Fuck me please fuck me please fuck me please ...""Don't worry, I'll get ta that." Jou snickered. He was intoxicated with the power he held over Kaiba, how he was driving him crazy with desire. He took Kaiba's head into his mouth, lapping up the precum as he slid his hand up his chest, fingers playing over Kaiba's lips before parting them. Kaiba licked and sucked Jou's fingers, mimicking the movements of his tongue. Jou lifted Kaiba's legs with his free hand, resting them on the desk, causing his pelvis to tilt, revealing his puckered anus. He slid his tongue down the length of his erection, over his balls, and underneath, pushing it against the rim of Kaiba's entrance."Pleeeasse," Kaiba whined around Jou's fingers."I love it when you beg." He replied wickedly. His fingers sufficiently moistened, he slid one into Kaiba's tight asshole, and slowly thrust it in and out."God, pleaaase fuck me. I'm gonna cum right now!" Kaiba was bucking wildly now, it was all Jou could do to keep the chair from rolling away. He heard something crash off the desk, as he slid a second finger in, pushing deeper, thrusting harder."Cum now, cum later, I don't care," Jou taunted. "Either way I'm gonna fuck you like a dog.""Nngh! I can't take it, PLEEAAAASE!" Kaiba shouted. He was at the edge, too far gone to hold himself back, his only desire now his own completion.Jou scissored his fingers, knew Kaiba was more than ready to take him. He pulled out, and stood up shakily. He leaned into Kaiba's sweat-soaked faced, tilted his chin up so he was looking into Jou's eyes."I'm gonna untie you, and you're gonna get on your hands and knees, ya hear me? Tonight, I'm on top, an' believe me, I know it may be a long time before I get this opportunity again, so I'm taking it now."Kaiba nodded wordlessly, his body shuddering in anticipation. Hunger, desire, clouding his eyes. Jou untied him and helped him out of the chair. He clung to Jou desperately, pressing the length of their bodies together, touching him everywhere he could reach, kissing his mouth ravenously, down the column of his neck, grinding into him in abandon, with need."On your knees, now." Jou commanded.Kaiba could not disobey at this point, all thought in his mind focused on one thing and one thing only, the sensation, the pleasure, that Jou's hard cock shoved deep up his ass would bring to him.Jou knelt behind him, pushed him roughly forward onto his hands, he arched his back, heard Jou's ragged breath, could only imagine how wanton he looked, craving to be filled by Jou, used by him, pleasuring him."Please," he begged hoarsely. He was shaking now, barely able to hold up his weight, as he felt Jou's hand traveling down his cleft, caressing him gently as he lined up the tip of his erection with his entrance.Jou pushed in slowly, feeling Kaiba's center of gravity shift backwards onto his knees in an effort to take him in deeper. He grabbed Kaiba by his hips and slammed their bodies together, rhythmically pushing and pulling their bodies together and apart, luxuriating in the gasps and grunts that passed Kaiba's lips. He doubted that Kaiba had ever been so turned on. He knew he he hadn't. He kept the pace slow and steady, but continued to thrust deep, Kaiba writhed against him, crying out 'fuck!' everytime he pushed into the hilt, he knew he must be hitting his prostate, making him see stars, pushing him closer and closer to orgasm.He snaked one hand around Kaiba's waist, fondling his cock and balls, was rewarded by Kaiba slamming his ass hard against him. He stroked the length Kaiba's erection, more precum slicking his fingers. Then caressed Kaiba's moistened chest, rubbing over his sensitized nipples, eliciting exquisite mewlings from Kaiba. He didn't know how Kaiba had managed to hang on so long, if he'd been teased like this, he wouldn't have lasted more than five minutes. God he had such willpower.Jou began to stroke Kaiba's erection in rhythm to his thrusts, his body leaning over Kaiba's. Kaiba was thrusting against his hand in ecstacy, an electricity building deep in the pit of his stomach, radiating from his balls, he was so close now to cumming."Cum for me baby," Jou urged, "I want you to cum in my hand." He licked and nipped down Kaiba's spinal column as he pressed against Jou. His thrusts became more and more erratic, until he screamed, "God, Katsuya!" cum spurting out over Jou's hand, onto the floor below him.Jou replaced both hands on Kaiba's hips, concentrating on his own neglected need, he picked up the pace, slamming into Kaiba harder, causing his elbows to buckle, driving his head into his arms."God, Seto you are so fucking tight, so fucking hot! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" Kaiba's muscles were gripping him, pulling against him and he felt his climax building, each thrust bringing him closer and closer to release, until he exploded inside Kaiba, feeling his own slickness coating them both.They collapsed on the floor together, Jou still on top of Kaiba, both of them covered in sweat."Fuck." Kaiba whispered hoarsely."No kidding." Jou replied. * * * Jou managed to get them both on their feet, and pulled Kaiba onto the overstuffed couch with him. They lay down together, still naked, cum and sweat-soaked. The smell of their sex lingered in the air.Jou stroked Kaiba's damp hair gently, Kaiba looked out the window over the twinkling city. It was completely dark now, a glance at his office clock told him it was after ten. He thought about Mokuba, felt a brief pang of guilt, then quashed it. They would spend the weekend together. He would make time for him, take him to the park, the arcade, anywhere Mokuba wanted. But right now this felt perfect. To lie against Jou, to be held by him."Hey," Jou said softly, "I gotta get home. You wanna get together again this weekend?""I want to," Kaiba sighed, "but I promised Mokuba I'd spend time with him.""So, you can bring him, if it's okay with him. We got the sex part down, but it'd also be nice if we could like hang out together too."He never thought he'd hear himself say it, but he agreed. As great as their sex was, he knew that eventually, if that was all there was between them, it wouldn't be enough. He didn't want to be lonely, alone, anymore.Jou got up, sorting through the pile of clothes for his things. Kaiba sat up, watching him.He felt content. He knew it wasn't just the after effects of sex, there was a certain comfortableness that he could sense between them. It held much promise."I think he might like that." Kaiba said, rising. He too began to collect his clothes, shaking his head and smiling at his ruined shirt. "I'll drop you off on my way home."
|
69854
|
Because theyre adorable
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross, Jon Walker, Spencer Smith",
"Fandom": "Panic At The Disco",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by orphan_account",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2008-09-18T00:00:00",
"words": "4,313",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Brendon Urie/Jon Walker",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Brendon hooks up with Jon right at the beginning when they barely know each other. He's all casual and laughing a lot - an awful lot - wicked smiles and bad innuendoes and grabby hands, and when he drags Jon into the hotel room, it's Brendon who strips off first, careless and confident, like he does it all the time. And he doesn't shake, and he doesn't panic, and if he got a little drunk beforehand it was only to give him courage, because Brendon knows what he wants, he does, but he has to be sure and besides he - he's - he's curious. He's thought about this, some guy, any guy, he's thought it about Ryan and then about Spencer because he knew that was safe and they'd never guess, never say anything if they did. Now he wants to stop thinking and just do.If Jon knew him better Jon would see that his eyes are wide and his hands move too fast - if Jon knew him better Jon would recognize the stream of flirtatious banter for nervous babbling - if Jon knew him better he'd know Brendon's never done this before - but Jon doesn't know him that well.Brendon pushes Jon backwards onto the bed and kisses him hard and sloppy. He's not inexperienced, not by a long shot. Turns out girls who'd probably look straight through him if they were both at school are perfectly willing to climb on top of him at parties, groping and giggling, now he's the singer in a band. Brendon never thought he'd end up the kind of guy who wouldn't remember the names of all the people he's kissed, but how can he remember, when they always have to keep moving to the next show? But he's not all that sober and not all that sure of himself right now and any thoughts of finesse or whatever fly out the window when he feels the scratch of Jon's stubble against his jaw. It's not that different. It's completely different. Jon's putting his hands in Brendon's hair and whispering, "Hey, hey, slow down, don't try to eat me," with a little crooked grin against Brendon's mouth, and Brendon has no idea what made him pick tonight and what made him pick this guy, but he feels like he's stumbled on a good idea here."Sorry," mumbles Brendon, and hopes he isn't blushing. It's a stupid hope. Brendon gets red easily. But, "Sorry, sorry," he says, and tries to calm down, and surreptitiously loosens his grip on Jon's shoulder which has grown unaccountably tight in the last few seconds. It's not as if Jon's going to pull away. It's not as if Brendon can stop him if he does. He tosses his head in an attempt to get some of his sweaty hair away from his face and Jon's hand that was in his hair slips down to the back of his neck. Brendon makes a small, involuntary noise which doesn't even make sense, it's not like the back of his neck is a hot spot or anything."Um, been a while?" says Jon. Define a while, thinks Brendon wildly, but he doesn't say it, just leans forward and kisses Jon, slipping a hand up under his t-shirt. He sort of knows how this bit goes. He sort of knows how all of it goes except for the bit where it's two guys in here, two guys on the bed. Me and another guy, thinks Brendon, and then corrects himself, me and Jon. He might have forgotten some of the people he's kissed, but he doesn't want to forget this one. This one is important. A milestone, kind of.(Jon totally guesses that Brendon's never been with a guy before, guesses but isn't going to say so. Brendon's really not hiding it well at all, not the panic or the fascination or the desperation, and Jon remembers hearing somewhere that the guy grew up religious or something. He feels a weird kind of responsibility, almost: he wants to say, don't worry, it's okay, let me show you but Brendon obviously can't bear to be that vulnerable, so instead he just kisses him, deep and often. Jon always kisses the people he hooks up with - Jon likes kissing - but Brendon seems maybe a little surprised, like it wasn't what he was expecting.)Brendon's known all through school that nobody can really stand to be near him for more than an hour. He'd always kind of thought girls were supposed to want to, like, talk and stuff when they hook up, but they never seem to care. He's surprised by the kissing, and by the fact that this guy wants to slow down. Almost like he wants to remember it too. But Brendon's probably just making that part up and he needs to stop thinking so much and start kissing again.And fuck, he can do that, because fuck, the kissing is good. Maybe the guy - Jon, Jon, Brendon's going to remember his name, they talked about the Stones earlier - maybe Jon is just trying to make sure Brendon shuts up. He wouldn't actually be the first to do that by sticking his tongue in Brendon's mouth. Hell, Audrey did it all the time, and Brendon thought it was funny, and so did Ryan, he thinks (and so did Jac, and actually Jac and Brendon where the only ones who ever laughed.) It's okay by Brendon as long as this doesn't stop, the leisurely sweep of Jon's tongue, like he could do this all night, and the way his skin is rough where he's shaved.Brendon didn't shave that morning. He thinks maybe it makes him look a little older when he doesn't. Jon rubs his hand along Brendon's jaw and makes an appreciative noise - it sounds sincere, too, though Brendon's not sure, he's better at telling the difference when it's girls - and then he pulls away, mutters, "Mind if I -?" and doesn't finish before he rolls them over, pushing Brendon down onto his back, settling so his weight's sprawled on Brendon's chest as he kisses him again.Brendon opens his mouth and clutches at Jon's shoulders and kisses back, and then - because he's done the shy virgin thing once, and fuck it - he slides his hands down Jon's back, ends up with one on his waist under his t-shirt, the smooth warm skin there, and the other resting at the waistband of his jeans, just shy of touching the curve of Jon's ass. Brendon's heart is jackhammering, thumpthumpthumpthump, but he wriggles around under Jon trying to get what he wants, and eventually Jon gets the idea and shifts so Brendon can slip a thigh between his, and then they're lying with their legs tangled together, Brendon underneath, Brendon's hard-on pressed against Jon's thigh and - yesfuckohgodinheaven thinks Brendon, in counterpoint to the thumpthumpthump of his pulse - Jon's cock sliding against Brendon's hip through the layers of fabric still between them. Brendon doesn't know which one of them is making the noises - it might be him, it's probably him - but Jon's still kissing him, and Jon's free hand is rubbing up and down Brendon's arm in a rhythm that's almost soothing. "Like this?" says Jon, grinding down against him. "Or do you want -?" but he doesn't finish the question, which is good, because it saves Brendon from having to admit that he's lost track of what he wants, just that it's in here somewhere, somewhere between the two of them. Instead Jon kisses under Brendon's ear, and the corner of his mouth, and says, "Easy, easy - ngk."The ngk is because Brendon just bit at his jaw. Brendon grins, pleased with himself, and Jon snickers, and they go back to kissing, rocking gently against each other, everything slow and lazy and not nearly as urgent and terrifying as Brendon imagined this when he imagined it happening someday - instead it's easy, easy, just like Jon said._The thing is, Brendon isn't used to "people who like him" and "people who have sex with him" being the same people, so he can't quite figure out why Jon seems to want to hang out even when they aren't naked.Brendon is used to "people who like him" being a pretty small pool anyway. Or, well, there are people who like him, he can even admit there are quite a few people who like him, but... Brendon can count three, not including his family (who aren't speaking to him right now anyway) who can put up with him for more than an hour. Ryan and Spencer and Brent, those are his friends, and three friends is a lot for a guy like him. He's just... not expecting to get any more. He doesn't know quite how to deal with Jon, who kissed him goodbye in the mornings in a thanks-for-the-memories sort of way - Brendon can spot that - and now keeps talking to him anyway. What does he even want? Is he going to tell people? Brendon doesn't think he minds people knowing, but he'd rather tell them himself.He thinks Jon keeps coming around maybe to hang out with Ryan, because people like Ryan (even though Ryan doesn't really like people), and they seem to get along well and have lots to talk about. But when Jon comes by the bus and Ryan isn't around, he hangs out anyway and plays video games with Brendon or talks about music or whatever, and he doesn't seem to get bored or annoyed even when Brendon gets hyped up and knows he's being obnoxious.And then there's that time when Jon kisses him again. Out of the blue. They aren't even technically alone - nobody's watching, but there are other people around, so it's not like a "this is time to hook-up" thing. They're just talking and laughing about something stupid - Jon tells lots of stupid jokes - and Brendon's laughing really hard, and Jon just... leans over and kisses him. On the cheek. Then tells another stupid joke like it never happened.Brendon doesn't get it, though. And a couple of cities later he's out at a party and some girl is hanging all over him and he thinks, why not, she's cute. She's also kind of mean, it turns out, and after about three minutes Brendon's pretty sure she's only hooking up with him because her friend hooked up with somebody else at another show and it's, like, a contest or whatever it is girls do, girls are weird, but he's not going to complain about getting laid. Even if he can't stop thinking about how it would be nice if she wasn't so... girly. And had broader shoulders. And a nice smile. And less make-up. And more stubble. And, okay, a dick.Afterward he goes back to the party and it's kind of obvious where he's been so people are teasing him, but whatever, they're not being mean. Brendon looks around a little but he doesn't see Jon anywhere. Not that he's looking for any reason, just that these parties are usually more fun when Jon's around. He asks and somebody says, "Dunno, he took off," and Brendon just shrugs and pretends not to care.It's harder to pretend not to care the next day, and the next day, when it becomes kind of obvious that Jon isn't going to bother looking for Brendon to hang out anymore.Brendon thinks, well, it's not like he didn't know it was going to happen. Everybody gets sick of him sooner or later.It doesn't stop him from moping, though. He must look really pathetic because Spencer and Ryan and Brent are being nice to him - like, creepy pod-people nice, not how they normally are - and even ask him if there's trouble with his family or something. (Brent is the one who cautiously tries to say, "Or did you have a fight with your boyfriend?" without using the words 'fight' or 'boyfriend', because he's not sure. He kind of assumed, but then Brendon hooked up with that girl, and he's not sure.)Brendon has no idea what he's talking about. He just says he's fine. Tired. Little bit homesick. That makes them leave him alone, or it would normally. Brendon doesn't see why this time should be different. It's not as if he's even got anything real to be upset about. He's got a band and three friends and a record and hey, he got laid the other night. Even if she was kind of mean and didn't smile and only kissed him once.He kind of forgets that Ryan is friends with Jon too, though, and notices that Jon doesn't come by to hang out with them anymore. Ryan is a little more blunt than Brent and flat-out asks if Brendon did something to piss Jon off. Which is... not what Brendon expected when Ryan came over to sit down and glared at him. (He thought he was going to get another lecture about skipping over lyrics during live performances because Ryan's songs are unsingable.)Brendon just shrugs and says, "Whatever. It's nothing new." He doesn't really want to explain it to Ryan, though. Ryan likes to make a big deal about how he was uncool in high school and everything, but with Ryan a lot of the time it's more talk than reality. When Ryan couldn't stay at home, he had a girlfriend to stay with or Spencer's house to go to, and he's got friends in Vegas he still talks to all the time. When Brendon couldn't stay at home, he didn't have anywhere to go. He thinks being pathetic about losing a potential friend - who he had sex with, okay, that complicates things - isn't something Ryan knows how to be very sympathetic about.Even worse, beneath everything else, Brendon is not at all ready to admit that he's got a huge crush on Jon and was this close to drawing their names in hearts all over his notebook. He's not ready to admit that at all, and he's afraid if he starts talking it'll just slip out.Ryan asks, "If you didn't do anything, why is he avoiding you?"Brendon doesn't want to talk about it, so he says, "I don't know, same reason everybody else does. I'm taking a nap."He's not tired, but going to hide in his bunk seems like a good thing to do right now.So Ryan decides to try another tactic and next time they're stopped he goes to find Jon. He's going to get to the bottom of this, he swears. A moping Brendon and stand-offish Jon are just weird. But Jon isn't all that helpful, really, because he seems annoyed that Ryan is bugging him and acts like he has all this important tech work to do and says, "What the fuck, are you keeping track of my social life now?" when Ryan asks why he doesn't hang out with Brendon anymore. Ryan considers the fact that Jon actually got angry to be A Clue, but he doesn't know what to do about it.Turns out he doesn't have to do anything, because Ryan coming to ask made Jon feel kind of guilty for being a jerk. He's not really sure he has been a jerk, but now that he's had a few days to think about it, he realizes some things. Like the fact that maybe expecting Brendon to figure out that Jon wants to marry him and have his babies (Tom's words, not Jon's) is unreasonable since Jon never, well, said anything. "Want to play Halo?" isn't really considered flirtation, Jon's pretty sure. And Brendon's obviously new to the whole dudes-with-dudes thing.(Jon would like to note that he does not want to marry anybody or have anybody's babies. He just wants to... make Brendon laugh. Then kiss him while he's laughing. Then get him naked and make him laugh some more. He also wants to kick every girl who flirts with Brendon. That is problematic, because lots of girls flirt with Brendon. And he flirts back, in his massively dorky way. Jon has to remind himself that kicking them while wearing flip-flops would probably hurt him more than them. Especially since they might kick back, and given the shoes they wear... seriously. They tower over Jon and Brendon. They are scary.It's weird, because Jon is a-okay with girls in general. Girls get a thumbs-up from him. But girls plus Brendon? makes him want to scowl and yell and generally be an ass. Jon thinks of himself as an easy-going guy, but apparently he's not easy-going about this.)Brendon, meanwhile, has been basically living in his bunk. Sometimes Brent drags him out and makes him play video games, and sometimes Spencer drags him out and makes him play his guitar, but mostly... Brendon just feels tired. He's not sick, he snaps whenever anyone bothers him. He's tired. It's a sad, deep kind of tiredness that Brendon hasn't really felt since - since before he joined the band. It slows him down a lot, but it probably makes him better company. Well, easier to be around. Brendon knows damn well he's not good company at the moment.Or ever. Fuck. Self-pity sucks, but if an emo kid can't do it, who can?_Well, what happens in the end is, they go on a date.Brendon doesn't actually realize it's a date at first, but Jon comes by again to hang out, and Brendon's pretending to take a nap when he hears Jon's voice on the bus. Of course Jon wants to hang out with Ryan, he thinks. Figures. Only then he hears Jon asking, "Where's Brendon?" and his heart skips a little.He keeps pretending to be napping, but his curtain snaps open and there's Jon, saying, "There you are! Hey, I'm hungry, want to go grab something?" just like he would have last week, like they haven't had this weird non-fight in-between. Brendon has no idea why Jon's here again, but he's not going to say no. (He is kind of hungry, too.) All of the other guys suddenly have other things to do, or just ate, or have to call their moms, or something, which would probably be weird if Brendon wasn't so happy-scared-nervous-confused that Jon is actually talking to him again.So they walk to get food and end up at this tiny little Thai restaurant. Brendon orders the spiciest thing on the menu, like he always does, and tries not to bounce in his chair or vibrate in place or tap his feet or any of the other things he does when he's nervous. After a few minutes Jon asks, "You okay? You seem kind of... subdued.""Sorry," Brendon says. He doesn't really know why he's apologizing, so he kind of laughs and goes on, "Usually when I'm subdued people say 'Thank god, finally,' not 'Are you okay.'"He means for it to be a joke, but Jon doesn't laugh.Jon says, "What?" like he doesn't get it, but Brendon knows Jon's usually more clued in than he lets on."I mean, I just, I know I'm annoying," Brendon says quickly, all in a rush. This feels more like an apology than the actual apology before. "I mean. I don't blame you for..." he stops and feels his face growing really really hot. He doesn't know how to say, "I don't blame you for hooking up with me then deciding that actually talking to me was too much of a pain in the ass," because Jon is here, now, across the table from him. Looking kind of angry, Brendon notices, when he looks up. It's weird to see Jon looking angry.Jon figures some things out then. But he really doesn't want to do the heart-to-heart conversation thing, so he just kicks Brendon lightly under the table and says, "Who says you're annoying? I'll go beat them up. If they're not much bigger than me. Which rules out a lot of people, I know, but if there are short people talking shit about you - like, hobbits, I could take on some hobbits - I'll totally go after them."That's probably the moment at which Brendon admits to himself he has a huge-ass crush on Jon Walker. Not that he didn't know that before, exactly, but at that moment, seriously, there is nothing he wouldn't do if he could just kiss Jon again. What he actually ends up doing, though, is laughing awkwardly and knocking over his water glass so that it splashes all over Jon. The only thing that keeps him from slinking down to hide under the table is the fact that Jon just laughs and throws an ice cube at him.When the food comes out and Brendon's is so hot it makes him gasp and his eyes water with the first bite, Jon tugs at his damp shirt and says, "I've got some extra water here, you want some?" Brendon would choke if he weren't kind of choking already, and when he's got his breathing back under control and has swallowed a gulp of water to chase the food down, he knows his cheeks are burning but he's got the spicy food as an excuse.He manages to say, "You want me to lick you, Walker?" and even put a bit of swagger into it, a bit of laughter, like he did back when he first hooked up with Jon, when he didn't know him at all."Sure," says Jon. "Please. Feel free." He grins.Brendon doesn't know what to make of that. and when they leave the restaurant, Jon grabs his hand, and he doesn't know what to make of that either. He'd know if it were a girl. But this is Jon. The rules are all different. (And something in his head that sounds a lot like Spencer - so, scornful and sensible - says different because he's a friend, dumbass, not different because he's a guy.)They don't go back to the buses right away but kind of wander around town instead, talking about anything and everything. They're in a city that has a river through the middle of it, and they end up standing in the middle of a bridge, looking down at the black water flowing underneath. It's probably really filthy and full of bodies, but it looks neat at nighttime, all slick and shadowy with the lights reflecting on the surface. They aren't talking anymore, but they're still holding hands, and Brendon's feeling kind of giddy and reckless, like there's a balloon in his chest making him light, and he says, "Hey." When Jon turns to look at him, Brendon leans over and kisses him quickly.He doesn't think about it before he does it, but he does right after and almost immediately he's panicking. But Jon's holding onto his hand so he can't pull away. "Um," Brendon says. He feels like he should say something. Jon is just looking at him. "I, um.""Brendon?""Maybe I should jump off this bridge now," Brendon says miserably because, god, he can't figure out what Jon's thinking at all, what the hell was that? He can't just go around kissing his friends. (You've had sex with him, mutual orgasms and everything, a traitorous voice in his head whispers). But Jon still won't let go of his hand."I think that's a terrible idea," Jon says, and he's stepping closer - they're not that far apart to begin with."Sorry," Brendon says. "I won't-""Not the kissing," Jon says. "The jumping. The jumping is a terrible idea. The kissing is an awesome idea."And before Brendon can say anything, Jon's kissing him again. It's kind of weird, they're not really touching anywhere except their mouths and their hands, sort of not-leaning in a way that makes Brendon feel unsteady, like he could fall over with the wrong move. But Jon's kissing him and it's not quick or friendly or anything like that, and he can't help the tiny noise that escapes when Jon finally touches him with his other hand, just a light grip on his arm.Finally Jon pulls away a little and, okay, Brendon feels kind of breathless. In the good way. In the way that comes with being kissed by the guy you've been secretly crushing on forever, right out in the middle of some strange city, with cars driving by and nobody paying any attention and-"I was kind of a dick last week," Jon says suddenly. He's still standing really close and it takes a second for the words to sink in."You were - what?" Brendon asks, confused. Maybe he's staring at Jon's mouth, which makes it hard to listen."Everybody tells me I'm an asshole when I'm jealous," Jon says."You - when you're - what?"A few things click in Brendon's head - like, hey, Jon stopped talking him the night he hooked up with that girl, is he the world's biggest idiot for not noticing, oh man, he really is - but Jon doesn't seem to want to talk about it any more than he does, so there's more kissing.Eventually they stop kissing long enough to walk back to the bus, and Brendon kind of hates that it's not a hotel night tonight - okay, he really really really hates it, because wow, he would really like a hotel room now, thank you - but Jon just follows him onto the bus and sits down beside him and puts his arm around Brendon's shoulder even though there are a million people around. He doesn't leave even when the driver says it's time to go and everybody goes back where they're supposed to be. When somebody asks Jon if he's leaving, he kind of leans against Brendon all sleepy-heavy and smiling and says, "I'm okay right here."
|
17264
|
Five Things That Never
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Achilles (Greek and Roman Mythology), Achilles (Homer), Patroclus (Greek and Roman Mythology), Patroklos (Homer)",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by mistykasumi (oultrepreu)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2005-10-04T00:00:00",
"words": "2,234",
"Additional Tags": "5 Things, 1000-3000 words",
"Relationship": "Achilles/Patroclus",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Greek and Roman Mythology, The Iliad - Homer",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
α. standing atop us allAchilles is invincible.It is not a known fact, rather a thought lurking in the subconscious of the soldiers, but it is indeed true. Achilles is golden and glorious, the son of a goddess, and he blinds everyone when he fights, effortless power and elegant swiftness, inhumanly strong and utterly beautiful.At the same time, he has weaknesses, but these are harder to discern, for they are not physical or blatantly manifest, and because they are not, they often escape the common man's notice. He is prouder, vainer, and more arrogant than even Agamemnon, those traits an almost perfect fit for a man like him, a man at the very boundary of immortality.And then, there is Patroclus. It is not spoken of except in hushed whispers, when Achilles and Patroclus and the Myrmidons are far away. Patroclus is many things Achilles is not, and this stands out in sharp relief when they stand next to each other, beauty and devotion and god and man. This does not eclipse the obvious affection they have for each other, the quick touches and soft glances.Patroclus's death and Achilles's reaction to it is not unexpected. Many of the Achaeans actually pity Hector, but they only speak of this in low voices when Achilles is out of sight. Achilles is now harsher than before, with no gentleness and compassion to balance him, and not many are brave enough to speak to him, to risk Achilles's wrath. He kills mercilessly, slaughters the Trojans by droves without regard to anything and, by doing so, is helping the Achaeans win the war, but this only makes him even more intimidating.It is a surprise when Achilles is discovered dead one morning in his tent. There are no wounds on him, but that is to be expected. No clue can be found, and the conclusion is that Achilles was poisoned. No one knows by whom or how or even whether Achilles really did die of poison. Some suspect that he overexerted himself (knowingly or unintentionally depending on the man) until even his god-like body can no longer function, but others think that Achilles committed suicide to join Patroclus in death as in life. The true cause of death will never be discovered.Centuries later, people will say that Achilles's talent was wasted without even a plausible reason. They will not know of the way Achilles's ashes mingled with Patroclus's in the same way their bodies had joined in life. β. you, me, this strange thing between usAchilles knows who Patroclus is, of course (How can he not know who his cousin is? They had met before, several times, at obligatory family functions.), but he does not know Patroclus well. That does not really matter. They are cousins.Achilles first tastes Patroclus the day they land on the Trojan beaches. The blood is still fresh on Patroclus's cheek, and Achilles licks it away. His hands are still sticky and red, and when Achilles wraps them around Patroclus's biceps, they leave an imprint. You are mine, although it does not even need to be expressed. They have been attracted to each other ever since they first saw each other, an unknown bond linking them. Now, they are older, and the attraction has become sexual in addition to everything else it already was.Ten years pass swiftly, ten years of fierce fighting and lingering passion. Achilles and Patroclus have become entrenched within each other in this time, this strange bond pulling them closer and closer together until they are almost one man.When Agamemnon takes Briseis, Achilles stops fighting. Instead, he spends his days with Patroclus. It is refreshing, not wearing armor and lazing about, in bed together or playing the lyre or hands full of sweet oil rubbing upon beautiful skin, and they can almost pretend that this is how it can be, after the war, if not for the sound of fighting and smell of death around them.Achilles does not accept the gifts Agamemnon gives him in an attempt to bribe him to fight again, and the Trojans advance steadily forward. One night, his Myrmidons report that the Trojans are at the ships, but Achilles merely laughs before turning back to Patroclus. The sex that night is harsh, but the touches are so gentle, almost unbelievable from two men born as warriors, and there is something in the way Patroclus moans against Achilles's shoulder, the way Achilles twists his fingers into Patroclus's hair.When Dawn approaches and Patroclus starts to rise, Achilles pulls him back into bed. "Our ships-" Patroclus begins, but Achilles silences him with a kiss. When they break away, Achilles smiles, devilish teasing at the corners of his lips, and when Patroclus looks into Achilles's eyes, he knows he will not resist whatever Achilles wants from him, definitely not at this moment and perhaps never."Stay with me. We'll guard the ships together later," Achilles breathes, eyes hooded, and Patroclus does not argue, just kisses him. γ. your utter importanceAchilles dies when he learns the news.He doesn't physically die, of course, but Achilles's humanity dies that day. In later ages, people will wonder whether things would have occurred differently if the Achaeans were able to keep Patroclus's body, whether the pain and grief of only losing Patroclus and not his body as well would have merely made Achilles colder and harsher instead of changing him into an emotionless killing machine.The Achaeans easily push the Trojans back to their walls, and Achilles is always in the midst of the battle, at the front, killing blindly and without regard to anything. At the end of the day, he is always blood-spattered, chariot full of the spoils he took from those he killed. Everyone thinks this is a form of revenge, to rob his enemies the same way they robbed him.Achilles thinks of nothing except the way Patroclus would have reacted if he had told him this is for you. They are all gifts to Patroclus, the armor and personal trinkets, but Patroclus will never receive them. That is not the point.Achilles steals Hector's body after he kills him. He still does not know where Patroclus's body is, but he knows Hector was one of the Trojans who fought the battle for it, and he will not let Hector rest. Every morning, Achilles drags Hector's corpse around the Achaean camp; the soldiers pity Hector, but they will not risk their lives. They would not have even when Achilles was still normal.Priam arrives with bribes one night, cloaks and shrouds and bars of gold and silver, but Achilles refuses him. He tells Priam that he will only return Hector's body when he is given Patroclus's body back. Priam says he does not know where the body is, and Achilles dismisses him. He knows that Priam has the favor of the gods, but Achilles does not care anymore. Everyone has to answer to the Fates, anyway.Despite the increased pressure on Troy, the Achaeans still cannot breach the city walls. But Poseidon plants an idea in Odysseus, and Odysseus suddenly realizes, one day, what it means to begin with an apple and end with a horse.Achilles is one of the party in the horse, and he is one of the first to set foot in Troy that night. He splits off from the rest of the group and hunts for Patroclus's body, killing everyone in his way.It is unsurprising, almost expected, that Achilles dies when he finally finds Patroclus. Achilles is not watching around him when he lowers his head and mourns Patroclus, and that is when Paris shoots an arrow at him, one that Apollo guides to Achilles's only vulnerability.The next day, the Achaeans find Achilles's body slumped over Patroclus's in a temple near the palace. A double funeral is held for them, and their ashes are poured into the same urn, which the Achaeans bury in the center of Troy.Hector receives no funeral. δ. what i must do for youWhen Patroclus asks, Achilles says no. It is terribly selfish of him, but Achilles is selfish. Why should he not be? Patroclus is his, has been his since childhood, and Achilles will not send him to fight another man's war, fight with and for people who allow him to be dishonored.Patroclus sulks, and Achilles lets him. He knows Patroclus can be unyielding, but this, this is born out of something greater than pride. Achilles will defend his own ships if he must, but he will not send his men to fight for men who wrong him, especially not Patroclus, his most beloved in the world.They go to defend the ships when a Myrmidon alerts them of the advancing Trojans. Other ships are mutilated, broken, but no Trojan ever touches any of the Myrmidons' ships. Patroclus looks at him expectantly, but Achilles will not heed his intentions.Just Achilles's presence is enough to rouse the morale of the Achaean army, however, and they beat the Trojans back. Achilles points this out to Patroclus, but Patroclus's mouth remains a grim line. Achilles will not do what Patroclus wants, not this time.Achilles goes to Patroclus that night, demure and yielding, firelight illuminating and shadowing golden skin. Patroclus takes him, mouth angry and hands hard, and Achilles lets him. Afterward, Achilles tells Patroclus he will fight to prevent an Achaean loss. Patroclus says that they have been losing, that they probably are about to lose. Achilles shrugs and says that he will fight if this is indeed the case.A bitter stalemate between the Achaeans and the Trojans lasts for two weeks. On the first day of the third week, Patroclus, fed up with the pointless battle, rises early and puts on Achilles's armor, then leads the Achaeans into battle.Achilles awakens to the sounds of battle, and when he notices Patroclus and his armor missing, he is furious. Achilles puts on Patroclus's armor and rushes into battle, heedlessly killing anyone in his way as he makes a straight path to the front, to where Patroclus must be.He arrives to see Euphorbus yanking his spear out of Patroclus, and Achilles rushes up to him as Euphorbus drives away. Patroclus is swaying, weak, and Achilles grabs a hold of him. His hold only tightens when he sees Hector, determined eyes set upon Patroclus.Achilles throws his spear at Hector. Hector blocks it with his shield, and by the time he lowers it, Achilles and Patroclus are gone. ε. the way you take over meThe sounds of fighting have long since left the ships. Achilles sits outside his tent, waiting for Patroclus to return. There are bodies lying a ways off, Trojan and Achaean, and Achilles thinks, I will not forgive you if you return as one of them.He hears a great uproar, and Achilles rises, fingers clenching and unclenching, needing to feel the solid curve of a spear in his hand and wanting to know what has just happened. Despite this, Achilles does not go. He is much too proud to just admit defeat to Agamemnon like that. And Achilles trusts Patroclus. He must trust Patroclus.Achilles just hopes that the glory he asked for from Zeus does not come at the price of Patroclus. It is not that he doesn't want glory. It is just that he wants Patroclus more. Needs him, even.The idle waiting is horrid. Achilles can hear the sound of fighting, the sound of men dying and yelling, the sound of spears and swords clashing together, but he does not know what is happening. Achilles does not want to guess because he will not be able to stop his mind from wandering upon that worst path possible.Another great uproar, and Achilles expects a runner with news. He does not expect to see Patroclus himself return to the ships, blood on his armor and a smile upon his face, pride evident in the very posture of his body. Truthfully, Achilles does not expect Patroclus at all, despite what he has told himself. He knows all too well how pride and glory can grip a warrior in their clutches and refuse to let go."I've returned, just like you told me," Patroclus says, and Achilles feels a rush of emotion in his heart at his Patroclus standing before him, safe and glorious and so so beloved to him.Achilles takes his own armor off of Patroclus inside the lodge, hands laying for a long moment upon each new section of golden skin and hard muscle revealed, and they both know what Achilles means. You are mine. I will never forgive you if you die like that. I love you.The sex is a beautiful tangle of golden limbs and passion and smooth familiarity, skin against skin and mouth against mouth and hands clamped around hips and biceps, hearts so close yet so far but always closer than farther, an old rhythm sung in a new voice. It is a tumult of emotions, of love and need and want and preciousness and tenderness and treasuring and cherishing and always, always, of a connection that will not be broken.Patroclus breathes a harsh always into Achilles's ear before he comes, and that is enough. That will always be enough. 05.10.04
|
10550
|
1024 pm Apt 42 2630
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Fox Mulder, Dana Scully",
"Fandom": "The X-Files",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by Leyenn",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2009-11-15T00:00:00",
"words": "3,253",
"Additional Tags": "Episode: s06e09 S.R. 819, POV Third Person, Present Tense, POV Dana Scully, POV Female Character, Episode Tag, Couch Sex, Domestic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fox Mulder's Couch, Mulder and Scully and their cell phones, Canon Compliant",
"Relationship": "Fox Mulder/Dana Scully",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Monday:
The phone ringing drags her out of an exhausted doze. For a moment she hopes it's the apartment phone next to the bed - at that point she'll have an excuse to just let the machine pick up, roll over and go back to sleep - but it's her cell, tossed on the bedside table beside the alarm clock, she can tell by the sound.She opens her eyes and sits up, groping across to pick it up. The clock, mocking her, insists that it's far earlier than her body wants to imagine. She scowls at it and closes her fingers around the phone, flicking it open as she brings it to her ear."Scully.""*Hey, Scully, it's me.*""Mulder." She smiles and drops back onto the pillow, rubbing sleep from her eyes with her free hand. "Are you done with your detention?"She can hear him smiling back, though there's something a little off in his tone. "*I bet you'd have made a damn good lab partner, too.*" She's about to play the usual Mulder, why are you calling me card when his voice sobers abruptly. "*Listen, Scully, I know it's late, but I need you to come into work.*"She sighs. One of these days she's going to take out her gun and shoot him someplace far more lethal than his shoulder. "Mulder...""*Something's wrong with Skinner.*"She throws herself upright and swings her legs over the edge of his bed. "What?""*I don't know. All I know is he's conked out on his office couch, he looks like shit, and he's absolutely insistent that I should not call you and tell you to come take a look at him.*"She wonders if either he or Skinner are aware that that is exactly Mulder's act, and that it's guaranteed to get the opposite reaction. She finds it amusingly ironic for Mulder to so readily switch sides. "I'm on my way. I'll be there in," she glances at her watch, glad for once that she fell asleep still dressed, "half an hour, tops." The usual route through Georgetown will be murder at this time of night with the restaurants beginning to empty, and she's glad for once she'll be coming the opposite way.From his pause, Mulder is obviously doing that social math as well, and coming, as usual, to the right conclusion. "*You home, Scully?*"She smiles. "In a manner of speaking." Her shoes are beside his couch, her suit jacket draped over the back. She sits down to put them on. "Can you tell me anything else?""*Only that I kinda wish I'd given up on that report a couple hours ago. Oh - feed the fish, would you, Scully?*""I already did." Her smile widens at the little sound he makes to answer that, and she puts an amused emphasis on the words. "And I meant about Skinner.""*Not much. I'm gonna do a little digging while you drive over here, see what I can coax out of him.*""Okay." She grabs her coat from his coat rack. "Are you okay, Mulder?""*Me? I'm fine, why?*""That's supposed to be my line." Her car keys are in her pocket still. She stops for a moment to finger-comb her hair and hopes she isn't going to get into work looking like she just slept three hours or more on Mulder's bed. "Is there anyone else around?""*Everyone else evidently has a life, on this floor anyway.*""Okay. But you feel fine?""*Yeah, I told you, I'm okay. Why the question?*"She swallows. "There are a few airborne agents that can cause impaired vision as one of the early symptoms." She can hear his brain tick over and quickly adds, "But if you feel fine and no alarms have been tripped in the building, it's very doubtful that that's the cause. Try and keep him in his office until I get there. Get him to drink something if you can. Fluids couldn't hurt.""*My powers of persuasion may not be up to that, Scully.*"She can't help another smile, pulling his door shut behind her. "I have great faith in your powers of persuasion, Mulder.""*This coming from the woman who still doesn't believe in the existence of extra-terrestrials.*" He pauses, and she can hear the levity drain out of him. She imagines him in her mind's eye: pacing an empty corridor, phone to his ear and the other hand gripping the back of his neck the way he does when he's worried. "*Skinner's office, Scully, okay?*""I'm on my way now." She clicks the phone off and pushes for the elevator.
Tuesday:
Mulder is sprawled not quite upright on his couch when she enters his apartment. His eyes are glazed, staring into nothing above the low drone of the television, and he turns to her as if on a time delay - she's almost to the couch when their gazes connect. He moves one knee out of the way to give her room to sit, and she drops down gratefully.His voice sounds like sandpaper. "How is he?"She kicks out of her shoes, and tries to stretch her back without expending the last few ounces of energy still wound up in her muscles. "The last round of arterial lasering seems to have given us a head start at succeeding with the plasmapheresis, but he's still in critical condition at this point. It's going to be forty-eight hours before anyone can say if it's going to work, and even that's a far more condensed treatment than anyone would usually prescribe. I had to talk incredibly fast to get his doctors to agree to it." She rubs a hand over her face. Her skin feels like a cramped, dirty cage and she's longing for a shower, even though she's sure she wouldn't be able to stand long enough to take one. "There's nothing we can really do now except wait. At the very least, the fact that he seems not to be getting worse can be taken as a positive sign." She eyes him, her concern shifting focus. "You look tired."Mulder snorts quietly, the sound that means he'd laugh but he doesn't have the energy. "I may have set a new record on lack of sleep, even for me.""You haven't eaten all day, either, have you." Why she even bothers asking is the better question. "I saw some iced tea in your fridge. I'll go sweeten some, you'll drink it, and we'll go to bed. How does that sound?"His smirk is slightly drunken, aiming for a leer and falling a mile short. "Fantastic."Scully smiles and pats his knee, using him as leverage to push herself up off the edge of the couch again. She drags her feet wearily into his kitchen and hunts out two clean glasses, forces the fridge door open after two half-hearted tugs, and pours them both a drink, adding a liberal helping of sugar to his even though he's likely to complain she's made it too sweet. A hypoglycaemic Mulder is never pleasant.Perhaps two minutes have passed when she goes back into the living room and Mulder is stretched out full-length now on the couch, his legs already having slipped back down into the space she's left behind. His eyes are closed, he's breathing slowly, and it takes her only a moment or two of scrutiny to know that yes, he really is asleep.The sight brings a small smile to her lips. Awake, he would likely not believe that she's more amused, even pleased, than annoyed that he's gone completely dead to the world within five minutes of her arrival. They've both been up for over forty hours straight and as usual, while she's been holed up in the lab and the theater he's been the one running around half of Washington on their desperate search for answers. Her eyes are dry and itch madly - she hasn't spent so many straight hours staring into scopes for many a year - her feet despise her and her back aches, but she suspects this is nothing compared with Mulder. At least she got a few hours' nap in before he called her... good Lord, was it only this time yesterday?She sets both glasses slowly on the coffee table, careful not to make more than the faintest of sounds. Sometimes when Mulder sleeps he looks peaceful, innocent even, boyish: tonight he just looks exhausted. The man has a kind of control over his adrenaline levels that simply defies logic - he can push himself so hard, until there's nothing left, and she marvels at the way he will hang on anyway until a moment like this, when he feels safe enough to give in and let sleep take him.Sometimes she thinks Mulder wouldn't be such an insomniac if he weren't so damned paranoid. Of course, that would be easier if so many people weren't out to get him, or her, or them, or the people they care about, or the world in general.She reaches over and gently, so gently, smooths his hair down. He doesn't even stir under her touch. She smiles, pulls the blanket down from the back of the couch, tucks it around him and leaves him to sleep.
Wednesday:
On the television Leslie Nielsen delivers one of those masterful lines she must have heard a hundred times - "*It's a big building with patients, but that's not important right now*" - and Scully is amazed to feel her lips quirk along with Mulder's low sound of amusement. She thought she was too exhausted to smile, exhausted after blowing off her usual day's work to spend it at Skinner's bedside, watching and waiting and hoping and still no closer to knowing if she's making any difference...She pushes away the remains of her mu shu pork in its slightly disintegrating carton, disposable chopsticks sticking out of one corner. It's another concession to her fatigue that they're having tonight's late dinner here on Mulder's couch, and that she made no fuss about eating out of the box, or Mulder dripping sauce everywhere while feeding her the occasional slice of lemon chicken. The odd mixture of sesame and citrus is thick on her tongue despite the tang of the white wine unearthed from somewhere in the back of Mulder's kitchen. It's the same brand they handed out around the Bureau last Christmas - probably even the same bottle, since Mulder isn't the type to go out and buy wine that he isn't planning to give away or bring to her apartment."You done?" He's looking her over, she can feel it. She always can."Mm." She leans back against the couch, tipping her head back to come into contact with his knee. She's sitting cross-legged on his rug, her preferred position to eat potentially messy takeout with the minimum of possible injuries to her outfit. "Did you choose this building specifically for that takeout place?""It was a deciding factor." There's a light pressure on the crown of her head: Mulder's hand, and she tips her head back up, mock incensed at his playfulness."Mulder!"He flashes her a smile. "Come up here, Scully. There's room enough for two.""Hm." There is no graceful way to move from a floor to a couch without standing in between, and she's too exhausted for that, but Mulder's couch is a special beast, well broken in and surprisingly comfortable and able to tempt her into expending those last vestiges of energy, particularly since Mulder's thigh is currently at her eye level and frankly looks even more tempting.She makes the ungainly move without knocking into the coffee table or spilling any wine, which she thinks can be counted as a success. "Move over a little, I'm tired." He does so without argument. She tucks her knees up a little and settles her head on his thigh, a warm denim-clad pillow. This time his fingers trace her hair, untucking it from behind her ear to fall in a curtain across her cheek, before he relegates his hand to a less distracting position resting lightly on her upper arm.Somewhere before the titular airplane makes its landing, she closes her eyes. Somewhere before the credits roll she starts dozing; she only wakes up when the warmth of a blanket settles over her and falls back to sleep, curled up childlike and exhausted, as Mulder clicks over to the news.
Thursday:
Mulder's bed, she thinks, is an infinitely better place with Mulder in it."I think Skinner knows, Scully." He's stretched out on his side behind her back, his arms around her waist, his lips against the back of her neck. The pale blue duvet is wrapped comfortably around them and she can feel his knees tucked up behind her own. He's rubbing her ankle lightly with his toes, which thankfully have warmed up considerably since he flicked the light off and slid in behind her. "I've been thinking about it. That little look he gave you the other day when I asked him about waking up alone? He had that look in his eye. I saw it.""I think Skinner's right that you're paranoid," she mutters affectionately. Her feet ache from the six-hour stint she spent at the hospital earlier, but it's a relief to be able to talk as if Skinner is actually going to make it. "Besides, I'm not worried about him knowing."He pauses in that way that makes her smile that she's managed to surprise him. "You're not?""He's not exactly the type to spread rumors around the water cooler. I'd be more worried about Kersh knowing, except that short of your suggestion about scrubbing toilets, there's not exactly anything worse he could do to us."He snorts into her hair. "You make a good point." He spreads his hand warmly across her stomach, avoiding by recent habit the fresh bullet scar, healed over but still tender, low on her left side. "By the way, Scully, is it okay to be very turned on seeing you in those red scrubs?"She chuckles at that, twisting to look over her shoulder at him. "You have a thing for doctors, Mulder?""Just one of them.""Hm." She pats his hand and settles back onto the pillow. "Well, I think you're forgiven, if only on the grounds that I'm sure your mind was multi-tasking at the time.""Good to know." He tugs her back tighter into the solid warmth of his chest, and his nose brushes her temple as he settles his cheek comfortably against her hair. "Though I guess, you probably wouldn't be open to liberating a set of scrubs next time you're over there..."She laughs. "If it turns you on that much, I probably still have some in the back of my closet somewhere.""It's the color, though, Scully. It complements your hair."She arches an eyebrow at that surprise sentiment. "You sure you're feeling okay?"His grin is just visible out the corner of her eye, broad and wolfish, voice deliberately low in her ear. "Well, that and it makes your body look incredible.""That's more like you." She lines her hand up along the back of his, sliding her fingers into the spaces left by his own. "I really wish I wasn't so tired right now," she says apologetically, and she thoroughly means it. She would love nothing better than to uncover the energy to turn over and kiss him and start something that would end with them both sweating, gasping and screaming, but she just doesn't have it in her, and her body seems adamant that no pleasant surprises will be forthcoming.Mulder makes a sound that's his vocal equivalent of a shrug. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty happy right here."The truth is that she is, actually. They get to do this so rarely, to really have a night when everything else is shut out and it's just the two of them, just the feel of him solid at her back and warm around her in the dark. Through all the shit they see and all the shit they go through, nights like these are what keep them both going, and there are never enough of them. She might be exhausted now, but she's more certain than anything that come morning she'll wake up in Mulder's arms, in Mulder's bed, having slept like the dead and feeling like a new woman all over again.Maybe she'll start something in the morning, then, she thinks, and she drifts off to the sound of Mulder's breath in her ear, slowly evening out as he falls asleep behind her.
Friday:
With all the lights off, the blinds pulled down, only the muted television throwing pale flashes of color across the living room, Mulder's apartment is surprisingly intimate. Somewhere above and behind her head, the fish tank is glowing, and that eerie blue is just enough to outline Mulder's face, his dark eyes and strong shoulders as he moves on top of her. His breath is hot against her lips, her skin, and the slow and measured way he's sliding in and out of her body is completely at odds to the wild thudding of his heartbeat. She can feel that even through her palm, pressed between his shoulders, stroking the broad plane of his back, her hand moving up and down with each careful thrust he makes.His fingers are tangled gently in her hair, his forearm braced against one of the few patches of couch leather not currently clinging to her sweaty skin. When he drops his head down to rest his forehead on hers, the blue light slides across his shoulders, and she slides her hand up to cup the back of his neck instead."This is nice," she whispers. He laughs, low and hoarse and not entirely steady."This is incredible," he corrects her, and pushes into her again, and she rocks slowly with him, her eyes fluttering closed for just a moment as she absorbs the feeling. "Oh, God, Scully," he breathes, and the rough catch in his voice is so beautiful when he says her name."You okay?" She rubs her thumb along one strong tendon of his neck, the same slow caress up and down. It feels as if they've been doing this for hours, for days, forever. It's so, so good, so good she doesn't even want to come, doesn't want him to come, she just wants to lie here and be doing this, feeling this. Mulder moving inside her. God.She can hear him swallow, deliberately slow his breath down with a long inhale. He smiles, dark and honest and close, his voice soft. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good. I'm - oh, Jesus, Scully, can we just stay like this? You think that would be okay?"She thinks that would be perfect. She lifts her hand to sift his hair through her fingers: it's sweaty and messy and bleached black in the weird light. The way he looks, right now, all contained power and heat, the faintest hint of desperation and need creeping up in the tension of his arms against her, his gaze holding hers - it's almost more than she can believe. Almost."I don't know about the rest of the world," she whispers, "but that's absolutely okay with me.""Screw the rest of the world, then," he whispers back, on another slow slide in, and she agrees completely.
|
27219
|
What Seems Still
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Susan Ivanova, Marcus Cole",
"Fandom": "Babylon 5",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by voleuse",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2006-06-25T00:00:00",
"words": "1,062",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Marcus Cole/Susan Ivanova",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Marcus makes a point of locating Commander Ivanova every morning, if only to say hello.He is not so obvious or stupid as to wait in front of her quarters. Her exasperated impressions aside, he does have other things to do in the morning. Hovering at a lady's doorstep is not one of them.When she isn't on active duty--and he would never interrupt her while she was in command--Marcus usually comes across her in the zocalo. She's never eating breakfast at the time, as he's certain she does that long before Earth's dawn.Often, he finds her stalking around the merchants' stalls, her demeanor just short of inspection. He steps in front of her, draws her attention.She halts, scowls, and he waits for it to pass. When her frown has finally faded, he nods and wishes her a good day.If Ivanova is on duty, he doesn't try to see her in person. Instead, he contacts her over comms, asks if there's any task in which he might be of service.Thank you, Marcus, she replies, but we can handle it."Of course," he concedes. "But if you need me."No, thank you. But her voice is light, and he likes to think she's smiling.
***
There are many things he does not understand about diplomacy, and he initially thought the same of her.When he has opportunity to observe her, however, he finds himself examining his initial perceptions.Ivanova is brash, yes, but she is also fair. While she walks through the zocalo, he sees her pulled aside by to settle disputes. Property borders, price gouging, shoplifting. Each time, nothing for which she is, technically, responsible. Each time, she smiles tightly, looks at the time, and then lends her judgment.Once, he happens to be within arms' reach when she's pulled aside. There's a man, young and obviously new to the station. He's holding a child by the hand, and he's nervous."Excuse me," the man says, catching Ivanova with his plea. "My daughter needs to use the facilities, and I keep taking wrong turns. Could you--" The girl tugs on the man's hand, cutting off his request.Ivanova looks around, eyebrows drawn together. Marcus knows what she's thinking--the adjacent restrooms, though relatively safe, aren't a nice place for little girls to visit. There are better facilities on another level, but the quickest way there is also complicated.It's almost time for shift changes, and Ivanova looks at the overhead clocks, torn. The girl tugs on her father's hand again, a whine escaping from her throat."Sir," Ivanova says, "why don't I--""--let me show you the way?" Marcus steps forward, sketches a bow and smiles. "I'd be happy to assist."Ivanova catches her breath, only barely audible, then nods. "Marcus can escort you to a suitable place.""Thank you," the man says, and picks up his daughter.Ivanova, as she passes, puts a hand on Marcus's elbow. "Thank you," she whispers."A pleasure," he replies, then turns his attention to the task at hand.
***
Food is a weakness of his. Rather, one of his temptations. He wonders about hers.Though she occasionally disappears during the lunch hour, often for her own duties, she can most often be found at the same cafe.If she's with Stephen or Sheridan, or some of the others he could almost call friends, he'll slide into a chair across from her. If she's alone, he'll gather his meal. He'll stand a few feet away and wait, until she grows exasperated and tells him to sit the hell down.Though he's spent much of his life on stations, ships, and Minbar, Marcus is fascinated by the variety of foods a human being can consume, or at least tolerate. Each lunch, he tries something new, and Ivanova pauses in her consumption to watch him, amused.Results so far have been good, or at least not life-threatening. There is a certain spice from Narn which makes him turn a shade of purple (or so she says), and vegetable matter from outer planets is always a questionable matter for his tongue.Ivanova does not experiment as much. When Marcus asks why, she waves idly. "I went through all that a few years ago," she explains. "I've figured out what works for me.""Ah," Marcus says, because he's stifling further curiosity. He takes a sip of his coffee. "This is good," he remarks.Ivanova reaches across the table, lifts his mug to her nose. He wonders, for a moment, if she'll take a sip, but she only sets it down after a sniff."That," she responds, "is a weak and tasteless imitation."Marcus tastes his coffee again. "Is it?""Oh, Marcus," she groans. "I'll make you real coffee sometime."He grins. "I'll hold you to that."She looks away, but doesn't renege.
***
Though he has no official duties, no schedule to maintain, Marcus does follow a pattern throughout the day.After he wakes, a call to Delenn's quarters, in case any emergencies have cropped up. A stroll through the zocalo in the morning, refamiliarizing himself with faces, personalities. A noon meal, with friendly company. Meditation after his meal, then training. Afterwards, he tours the maintenance and docking bays, the observation domes, the communications grid. If there's anything of note, he reports it to his superiors. If he's lucky, there's nothing to flag warning, but those days are rare.When most humans are finishing their evening meal, he wanders through the recreation facilities, and there he finds Ivanova.Her hair is still tied back, but a few strands have escaped, trailing over her forehead and cheeks. She looks tired, and she looks relieved. She looks beautiful, as she does in any other moment.Marcus bids her a good evening, and the corridor is almost empty. Her lips curve into a smile, and for a long moment, he thinks what if.Ivanova clears her throat, and it wakes him. Marcus nods. "Well, I suppose I should be--""Of course," she says. He moves past her, and she catches his elbow, stops him. "Be careful, Marcus.""I'm safe as houses," he tells her. "Don't worry about me."Ivanova rolls her eyes. "I don't," she says, but she squeezes his arm before she walks by.And then it's night, and he returns to his pattern, taking a transport into downbelow.
|
35385
|
Had To Be There
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Mickey Smith, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart",
"Fandom": "Doctor Who",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Omorka",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2009-12-22T00:00:00",
"words": "1,733",
"Additional Tags": "Minor Violence",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
The evening was cold and damp, as evenings often were in November. The old man ducked into the pub more for the warmth than for a drink, although once inside, he decided one wouldn't hurt."Pint of cider, please." The bartender looked at him as if he were trying to remember his face from somewhere. Well, perhaps he was. He collected the cloudy amber liquid and made his way to a table between the front window and the dartboard, leaning his cane against the table.He took a sip and fumbled in his canvas knapsack for a book. His hand encountered the stacks of papers he had yet to grade, instead. Semi-retirement was working out poorly, he mused - all the frustration of marking papers, still had to get up at the same time every morning except on weekends, but now the work wasn't enough to fill his free time, to let him forget what he was missing.His eyes flicked to the window. Streetlights reflected muddily off of low clouds just losing the last glimmering light of sunset, orange and grey giving way to dark. No stars were visible at all.No stars . . .He sighed. It was hard to remember, now, the frustrations and the tedium of protecting the Earth from the dangers that lurked between constellations. Like any old man obsessed with his glory days, he only remembered the excitement, the moments of grand camaraderie, the exhilaration of making the Earth safe for humanity. He knew better, intellectually, and he understood that the work he did now for the students at the school was just as important, in its own way.He had Doris, and he had other people who remembered. UNIT still rang him up from time to time with a question, although their current operations were fat and lethargic; no good came of letting upstart operations steal your thunder. He had a good, calm life now. Leave saving the world to younger men.The young fellow sitting by the window stirred. The brown jacket he was wearing nearly matched his skin tone, and his hair was short. He looked anguished, and there were three empties sitting in front of him. Alistair wondered briefly what his private misery was.A light flashed outside, followed immediately by a whumph. The old man was on his feet without thinking, snatching the cane before it tumbled to the floor. A bomb? No, that would have been louder. There was something vaguely familiar about the noise.The young man beat him to the door. "Bloody bastard," he heard the boy growl, "what's he done this time?" He rushed into the chilly air, his breath a trail of steam. Alistair followed him, the cider and the marking forgotten.A plastic thud echoed from an alleyway; a flickering light, strangely harsh and metallic, reflected from the dampness between bricks. The young man wheeled and faced the alley, scowling."Good day," rang out a cheerful voice. "Sorry about the noise; bit of a bother with this." Alistair pulled up alongside the young man just in time to see a heavyset fellow in a golfing outfit tap a large rubbish bin with the flat of his hand." 'Salright," answered the youngster, slowly. "I can give you a hand with that, if you like.""No, no, I wouldn't bother you with it at all," answered the golfer, a bit too hastily. The scent of bad dentistry drifted down the alley, accompanied by a noise that suggested the recent consumption of beans on toast."No, really, I insist," the young man answered, glancing sidelong at Alistair. "Least I can do after interrupting you.""And I insist," continued the golfer, scowling, "that I can handle my garbage myself, thanks. Just . . . got away from me there, for a moment." A sneer flickered on his face and disappeared again.The young man did some sort of complicated calculation in his head. The alley still reeked of tooth decay and something else. Ozone, perhaps? Alistair cleared his throat. "Not at all, sir. Why, this young man is offering to better his entire generation by offering assistance, and you're turning him down? He was raised well; you should show you were, too.""I don't need a lecture from the likes of you, old man," the golfer growled. But the younger fellow was already at the bin. He put one hand on the side with the wheels. "Where d'ya want it?"The golfer stared, farting again. Then he sighed. "Head of the alley'd be fine.""Sure thing." The youngster tipped the bin backwards; something shifted inside it with a thud. He didn't seem surprised; he spun it around and tugged it forcefully down the alley to the street."That's fine, thanks," the golfer assured him hastily."Right, then," replied the young man, and he turned the bin again and promptly lost his grip. It didn't look a bit accidental. The canister fell to the ground and popped open; a plump human body stripped of its skin toppled halfway out as the lid slammed back down on it."Sorry," flinched the younger man to Alistair. "Run!""Not a bit of it," Alistair answered, but the young man was already taking off; the golfer roared, a distinctly non-human sound, and reached for his forehead, pushing back the golf cap to reveal -A zipper?Alistair caught up with the boy a block away, although running like that was making his hip ache. "What was that thing?""Serial killer, I'd imagine. Stupid of him to dispose of the body like that," panted the younger man."Don't give me that nonsense. You knew that was an alien." The young man's eyes widened. "What kind?""Raxacoricofallapatorian," gasped the other fellow. "Specifically, a Slitheen.""New one on me," Alistair nodded as they made a corner. Something was thudding distantly behind them. "You've dealt with them before?""Remember the explosion on Downing Street? By the way, my name's Mickey," the other man added, dodging into the alley behind a small restaurant."Pleased to meet you; I'm Alistair." Mickey tried the back door; it was open, and they both ducked in. "By any chance, would you happen to be a friend of a fellow who calls himself the Doctor?""Wouldn't say a guy who calls me 'stupid ape' and runs off with my girl is a friend, exactly," Mickey answered bitterly. "But yeah, we've met.""I see. He's an old friend and sometimes-colleague of mine, too." Alistair scanned the kitchen they were in. "What are we looking for?""Vinegar, or lemon juice in a pinch. Something acidic, and lots of it." Mickey gave him a lopsided grin. "Tip from your old friend; saved my life the last time I saw one of those things."Alistair had a pantry open and was pawing through it when the door was blown from its hinges. A tall, bipedal alien with a bulging midsection and a face like a squashed infant squeezed through it. "Idiots," it growled, "I'll have to abandon that disguise and kill you both now. You can't believe how inconvenient this is.""Oh, please," the Brig answered. "I've met a great number of aliens in my time, in a number of trying circumstances, but one thing proper aliens do not do is whine."The thing's green face wrinkled. "What would a mammal like you know about us?""That you shouldn't be in a chip shop," snarled Mickey, flinging two open bottles of malt vinegar at it. The green thing wheeled at him, roaring. The Brig reached into the pantry and grabbed the first thing that came to hand, swinging it at the creature. He struck it directly in the face; the frying pan rang like a cheaply-made bell. The stunned Slitheen stumbled, a fizzing noise coming from somewhere. Mickey dumped the contents of a third bottle of vinegar directly on its head from behind; the green monstrosity groaned, suddenly swelled like a balloon, and exploded in an eruption of green flesh and nauseating stench.The two men stared at each other, long, gelatinous strings of goo hanging off their faces, their clothes, the wall, everything. Mickey's eyes fell to the frying pan in the Brig's hand, and he snickered. Suddenly they were both laughing, the adrenaline boiling off as they fled the ruined kitchen.---Alistair retrieved his knapsack, ordered another cider, and gestured Mickey over to join him. "Not that's it's official any longer, but my thanks for saving the Earth again.""No biggie." Mickey sighed into a fresh beer. "Getting used to it at this rate." He looked up. "Does he do this to everybody he meets, then?"The Brig looked thoughtfully at the ceiling before answering. "Not everyone. But the ones he trusts enough to talk to? Yes, I'm afraid he does.""Figures," Mickey snorted. "Takes my girlfriend to gallivant around the galaxy, and leaves me and her mum here to be the rear guard.""I understand, believe it or not," the Brig answered. "I was the rear guard myself, for a couple of decades, in fact.""Really? That can't have been fun." Mickey took a long swallow."Fun, no," the older man answered, "but it was certainly interesting. Has he told you much about those days?""Hasn't told me jack," Mickey shrugged.The Brig smiled. "Well, just so you know, the planet hasn't always been his oyster. In fact, he was stuck here once; technically, he was even my employee, although that was in name only.""Oh, yeah?" Mickey was interested despite himself. "So did you work for Torchwood, or what?"The Brig snorted. "Upstarts. No, I was the British commander of UNIT for a few years. And in the beginning," he continued, "I wasn't so very fond of the Doctor, myself. He does grow on you with time, though." He eyed his cider and tried to think of the story that would embarrass the Doctor the most. Not that the Time Lord ever really seemed embarrassed about anything. "In fact, I remember when . . . "An hour later, the raucous laughter from their table had grown infectious; the entire pub was rollicking. Mickey and the Brig stumbled out the door, neither quite able to stand on their own as the cane did the work of propping them both up."C'mon home with me," gasped Alistair through his chortling. "Doris'll feed you a proper meal."" 'Slong as it's not fish 'n' chips," Mickey answered, still giggling.
|
13326
|
Lines
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "William Adama, Laura Roslin",
"Fandom": "Battlestar Galactica (2003)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Trialia",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2008-10-31T00:00:00",
"words": "188",
"Additional Tags": "Romance, Kissing, Making Out, Comment Fic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sweet/Hot, Love, Touching",
"Relationship": "William Adama/Laura Roslin",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
It's not the first time they've been this close to the line - that line they won't talk about crossing.It may be the last, though, given the way his fingers are sliding up her arm: so slowly she almost feels she could breathe the heat of his skin through her own, if she weren't already busy inhaling the scent of him, rich and slightly oil-tinted (she doesn't think 'tainted', nothing that warm could be matched with such a negative term).He's so close she feels she might faint from sensory overload before he kisses her -- and she knows, he knows, it will happen soon. His eyes are fixed on her mouth; she can't lift her gaze from the beautiful contrast where his flesh touches hers at the soft, dry plateau of skin just below the crook of her elbow."Frak," she breathes involuntarily, eyes falling shut at the thought of him nearer, deeper, hot and firm and so very present against her bare body."Not yet," she hears him mutter in return.They're both past the point of denying this will happen, however they try to resist it.
|
24437
|
Cover Stories
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Amelia Banks, Ronon Dex",
"Fandom": "Stargate Atlantis",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by noracharles",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2009-12-01T00:00:00",
"words": "1,426",
"Additional Tags": "Post-Series, Earth, 1000-5000 Words, bitesize, PoV: man, POV: Character of Color, PoV: woman, Queer Friendly",
"Relationship": "Ronon/Amelia",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "Queer Gen Subcollection",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Ronon tells their neighbors that his name is Ronan Dex. He says that she is a kick-boxing instructor, which is true, and which keeps people from asking awkward questions about where she was deployed. He says that he is a fashion designer, and makes clothing and jewelery out of all natural materials - vegan clothing available on request, which is also true. He models a bit on the side, to supplement their income, and she teaches Using Ancient Computers 101, but one is embarrassing to mention, the other illegal, so there's nothing odd about not telling anyone that. Even if having a boyfriend who is also a model is something to be proud of, and for some reason he doesn't mind modeling his own designs on the website... but no one ever said men had to make sense. Especially if they're space aliens.Ronon tells people that before he moved to San Francisco and met her, he ran a boat chartering and scuba diving business in the Caribbean. Before that he worked as a wilderness survival expert taking tourists on extreme nature hikes in Canada and East Asia. And before that he owned a pet store specializing in reptiles. It only makes sense: he can use his extensive action movie watching experience to spin fun anecdotes, which no one they know would guess aren't true, and he can draw on his real life when describing what it's like to live on the ocean for 4 years, or explore jungles and mountains and steppes using only the most basic tools and whatever food you can scavenge. But he never does. Instead he likes to talk about clothes and martial arts and what was on TV last night. His favorite show is Mythbusters. Mostly he just shuts up and listens to her and their acquaintances talk, keeping his contribution to a sardonic look or a grunt here and there.They meet up with their friends on Atlantis at least once a month, usually more often. He doesn't go into work with her when she teaches her classes, unless his friends are also going to be there. She doesn't know what he talks to them about - nothing much, probably. Who could, with Dr. McKay in the room? But she knows he told them about her, from the special effort Colonel Sheppard and Teyla make to greet her every time they see her.Making friends is difficult, when you have to make up lies about what you do, and your boyfriend is mostly a silent, looming lump in the corner. It makes conversation difficult. But the sex is so totally worth it. And his warm eyes and sweet smile say more than words ever could. Mostly they have a superficial friendship with neighbors they know from the local gym and coffee shop. Ronon doesn't seem to feel they're too insular and co-dependent, and she socializes so much on Atlantis she's okay with just hanging out the two of them most days. Honestly, she's not that eager to work on any deep friendships when they could be called back to off-world duty any time. Hopefully, any day now. Earth is fine and all, but same old, same old is not what she signed up for.~*~ Amelia is friendly and outgoing. She's fun to be around. When he wants to go out, to the gym or the cafe down on the corner, she's always up for it. Even if she just came from teaching her class at the gym, she just grins and says "sure!" if he suggests going there. But it's all on the surface. When they hang out with their friends, even just talking about TV shows and music, he can feel her holding back. She says her friends are on Atlantis. She says she could be re-deployed at any time. She says now is not a good time to be putting down roots.Most days he works on his designs until lunch. He gets so absorbed in being creative, he doesn't feel alone, even if Amelia is not home. After lunch he works out, and visits his friends, unless a customer is scheduled to come over for a fitting. Their living room doubles as his shop, but they're both neat and tidy people, so that's fine. He visits Jose Manuel most weeks. Jose Manuel has a good deal with a leather wholesaler, and does some really cool things with stamping and burning. He likes to talk about his family and soccer a lot. He asked him once if he knew any shark skin suppliers from his time in the Caribbean, but he doesn't. Mostly his clients wanted to go sight-seeing, on and under the sea, and of course seeing sharks was inevitable, but he tried to stay away from them. Live and let live, don't kill anything unless you need to eat it or it's self-defense, is his motto.He likes to work with cow and pig skin, by-products from butchering farm animals. Jose Manuel showed him some snake skins, with beautiful diamond patterns and bright colors. They're used for purses and footwear. It's hard not to covet them, they're perfectly smooth and soft, and maybe if they had been from farmed eating snakes in China, but they're not. Anyway, the eating snakes in China are not as beautiful, and are not treated well, so he has no intention of importing any skins from there. His clients often wanted to go to a traditional market after returning to civilization from a jungle hike, and he did enjoy the haggling and the throngs and the wide variety of food, but he never liked the animal markets, with the frightened and apathetic pigs and chickens and dogs and snakes.He also hangs out with Cuiping once or twice a week. Cuiping designs websites, and teaches women to use computers down at the rec center. She designed his website for him, and taught him how to update it with new photos, but she only likes to talk about cooking and girlfriends and her pet iguana. She claims to be very jealous of him having Amelia, but he thinks she isn't half as jealous as he is of her having Groucho. When she is on the phone, he always goes to stand next to Groucho's heating lamp and try to coax him to climb on his arm. Groucho's toes are dry and hard, and a bit scratchy. He moves slowly, with the dignity and self-possession of a Zen master. If he didn't know the salmonella on iguanas can be dangerous for infants, he would like to keep reptiles again.In the evenings, Amelia comes home. They watch TV and go to the gym together, and they have a lot of sex. Usually they have sex every morning, and often in the evenings too, if they're not tired. Amelia says only penetrative sex is real sex. She also says she doesn't snuggle and pet and kiss any of her friends like that, but that doesn't mean it's "real sex". She says many strange things. Ronan was raised to believe that love is what makes it "real", and he's starting to suspect that he and Amelia have never had real sex if that is the case.Jose Manuel and Amparo, and Teyla and Kanaan have kids, and Rodney and Jennifer are expecting. John and Amelia are only biding their time until they can get back to the war. Cuiping says Amelia is crazy hot, and Ronan is a lucky, lucky guy. He is lucky, to have found a home in this vibrant city by the sea, to have a successful business doing what he loves - even if it burns having to take jobs modeling clothing for competitors sometimes - and to have so many true and loving friends. But he's starting to question the wisdom of having a marine for a girlfriend. He's gotten the wander-lust and hunger for adventure out of his blood after years of odd jobs all around the world, and is ready to settle down and start a family. Amelia says she could be re-deployed at any moment. He goes out to the military base with her every two-three weeks to meet John and Rodney and Teyla, who also work there, but he couldn't imagine living on base, let alone a base in enemy territory. When Amelia is re-deployed, maybe it would be best to just let her go. Cuiping says she knows lots of sweet, straight girls who know very little about computers but a lot about loving. She's corny like that.
|
35568
|
Love and Affection and
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Grace Van Pelt, Patrick Jane",
"Fandom": "The Mentalist",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by Dira Sudis (dsudis)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2009-12-22T00:00:00",
"words": "7,027",
"Additional Tags": "Kink Meme",
"Relationship": "Patrick Jane/Grace Van Pelt",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
The thing is, Jane slipped past Grace's defenses months ago. It doesn't feel dangerously flirtatious to silently hold his gaze while the smile on his face gets wider and warmer; it feels like another morning in the office and Jane showing off another one of his skills for the team. It doesn't feel strange or suggestive for Jane to hold her hand, cup her shoulder, touch her waist or the back of her neck; it's just Jane and his tactile way of checking in, monitoring pulse and posture and body temperature.Even after what he says to her, about her, when he's blind, he's still their Jane. Even after Dan is exposed as a fraud who used Grace to hurt them, to hurt Rigsby and Jane--even after Rigsby--The point is, when Jane asks her to dinner a couple of days later, saying he owes her one, it's no stranger than Jane usually is and it's not a come-on, so Grace goes. It's nice having Jane all to herself. He's charming and solicitous--he knows just the kind of wine she'll like, when she doesn't know herself--and it doesn't even cross her mind to feel strange about indulging in a second glass while Jane switches to sparkling water. She's not remotely drunk, just relaxed and having a good time, by the time she and Jane finish sharing their desserts back and forth.After dessert, Jane asks her to dance. She hesitates. Jane's bound to be a good dancer, and if she says she's not he'll insist that she can be and then he'll insist that she try so he can make it true, so there's no point in that argument. The restaurant is attached to a resort. It's the kind of place where there's dancing. There are people on the dance floor already, women in little black dresses and date clothes--but she and Jane came straight from work."Come on," Jane says, tugging gently on her hand. She doesn't even remember when he reached out. "If I can dance in a suit, so can you."Jane's suit is all gray today, with a blue shirt. His jacket is slung over the back of his chair, like hers, but his vest is still buttoned up and he hasn't rolled up his sleeves. Her suit is nearly the same shade of gray, though her shirt is pink. She follows him to the dance floor, led by the hand, and she thinks they must look color-coordinated. She doesn't look around to see who's watching them, though. All her attention is on Jane, because Jane is watching her and looking pleased.He shrugs his shoulder until her hand slides just to where he wants it; his hand is strong on her back (like Rigsby's hand when--no) and her other hand is held carefully in his grip. He says, "stay with me, keep your eyes on mine," and gives her no other instruction. She breathes with him, follows the gentle pressure of his hands, and before she knows what's happening they're dancing. She knows--because it's Jane, and that's how he works--that she's dancing beautifully, that they're dancing beautifully together. She holds his gaze, smiling, nearly laughing, as they step and turn and slide through the music, and Jane is smiling too, nearly laughing, all for her.It feels like magic, like a fairy tale, when at the end of the second song, he leans in and kisses her. His grip on her hand tightens even as the hand on her back gentles, his thumb stroking softly over her spine. It's a kiss, it's obviously a kiss, however gently his lips tease hers into parting, however sweet it all is. It's a kiss but it's also Jane, and so when he looks her in the eye again and smiles, she smiles back, because it obviously wasn't what a kiss would have meant with anyone else.They start dancing again and she tries to wonder if she's being foolish, if she's being really unusually dense or naive, but the truth is that her normal reaction would have been--well. She doesn't normally think men mean something else when they kiss her, but Jane is ... Jane. Not harmless, exactly, but nothing like any other man she's ever met. He's still smiling. They're still dancing.When they stop again, he drops his hand from her back and tugs on her hand, so that she leans closer to him. He says softly, "Will you come upstairs with me and let me tell you what I want to do next?"He waits for an answer, and it's--it's Jane being strange again, because it seems like it's honestly a question, not an invitation, not a press for her to say yes. She's not an idiot, she knows what he wants to do next, upstairs, after dinner and dancing and a kiss, but she also--after Dan, after--after Dan, after that whole disaster, and knowing that Jane knows something about her, even though he doesn't quite know what....It would be like the kiss, she thinks. It would be sweet and gentle and it wouldn't mean what another man would mean, and even if this is just Jane making a strangely extravagant gift of the whole evening....It should be her that owes him one. It should be her who's offering something to make up for nearly getting him and Rigsby killed by allowing herself to be used. This isn't that, and Jane wouldn't ask for that, and the question is a question, and when it comes down to it, Grace can't resist seeing what Jane will do next."Yes," she says. "I will."Jane smiles brightly and they return to the table--Jane scribbles a room number on the check and they both shrug on their suit coats. It's only then that it occurs to her she was dancing with a gun on her hip, and it should have been ridiculous, and it never was, not for a moment.She follows Jane up to a room on the second floor and perches on the edge of the king-sized bed when he gestures for her to take a seat. He sits on the footstool in front of the armchair; she could touch him if they both stretched out their hands, but not otherwise. She's looking down at him slightly. Jane couldn't have put her more in control of this situation without getting down on his knees and putting his hands up, and they both know it."The thing is, I..." Jane trails off, smiling, though the smile is small and warm now, not flashing bright like on the dance floor. "The thing is, Van Pelt--""I'm in your hotel room and waiting for you to proposition me," Grace says, flashing her own smile back. It isn't a sentence she could have said so easily before she knew Patrick Jane; it would have been a lie in attitude, if not in words, to anyone else. It's strange that it's not, now. "You're not going to spook me now by calling me Grace."His smile widens enough to show teeth, and he seems to relax a little, though she can't say in what way he wasn't relaxed before. "Grace. The thing is, the thing I want you to understand, is that when you're with me you are not even in the running to be the person in the room who is most skittish about sex. Before tonight I hadn't kissed anyone in a very long time."She believes it, instantly and completely. However tangentially, this touches on Jane's wife. He wouldn't lie about it. She wonders how long, exactly, and how long since he did anything else; it's strange to be absolutely sure that she really is better off in this respect than someone else, especially someone as beautiful and charming as Patrick Jane. Jane, who is here with her, who chose her out of everyone he knows--and she knows why, watching his face. For the same reason that she usually shies away from beautiful and charming men. Because it would be so much harder to face this with someone who wasn't at least a little bit skittish about sex.Grace nods.Jane closes his eyes, but doesn't lower his head; it's uncannily like he's blind again, still looking in her direction even though he can't see. She wants to reach for him, right then; she wants to orient him even though he's sitting still. She keeps quiet instead, waiting for him to say what he can't look her in the eye to say."I want to touch you," he says quietly, matter-of-factly. "I want to give you pleasure, I want to give you whatever you'll let me, as much as you'll let me. But I don't want anything from you in return. I don't want to be touched. I don't want to undress."He opens his eyes again, searching her gaze while she takes that in.The idea is strangely... Jane. She can't think how many times she's seen him lying on the couch at the office, sleeping or pretending to sleep, never undressed further than shirtsleeves. It would be wrong to undress him, she thinks--or else, it would be right, but she's nowhere near the miracle worker required to make right what's wrong with Jane. Maybe that means it's wrong to do this, wrong to get involved at all if she can't make it what it should be for him--but shouldn't he get what he wants, rather than nothing? Shouldn't he get to kiss someone, touch someone....She can't deny that she wants to. Rigsby--the idea of getting involved with Rigsby--scares her and makes her think she could be brave enough to work things out someday. But with Jane, all she has to do is trust him to do one more amazing thing. She has to trust Jane almost as much as he has to trust her, not to think he's irretrievably strange for what he wants, not to pity him for being even more messed up than she is. They both have to go back to work tomorrow as if they don't know each other's secrets--but then Jane does that every day already.Grace smiles, hoping it doesn't look as nervous as it feels, and leans back on her hands. "I accept your invitation, Mr. Jane. What do you want me to do?"Jane studies her for a few seconds, smiling, radiating the closest thing to uncertainty she's ever seen from him. Hesitation, maybe. He's sizing her up, and she wonders if she was supposed to resist more, make him work for it. Jane's worked enough for one day, though, and so has Grace, and she's greedy to get to the fun part, scared like she's just boarded a roller coaster, or she's wearing a parachute and they've just opened the door on the clear blue sky."I think--if you want to--you could take off your gun and badge," Jane suggests. "I wouldn't feel right taking them from you."The words are diffident, but it's his easing-you-into-it tone, and Grace smiles as she complies. She wonders idly if Jane's ever handled a gun at all, if he's as scrupulous as he seems right now about keeping his own hands safely off the deadly weapons. Lisbon would know, but it's not important now.Grace sets her gun and badge tidily on the nightstand and puts her hands behind her again. Only then does Jane move, coming to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. He leans in slowly, his gaze dropping at the last second from her eyes to her mouth, and kisses her. Grace keeps her hands on the bedspread, reminding herself not to touch.It feels weird, off-balance, to be touching nowhere except their mouths, and Jane's kisses are still light, tentative. He's close enough that she can feel his warmth down her right side, but their bodies don't make contact. As if he could hear that, Jane sets his hand flat on her belly, and Grace arches her back the slightest bit, pressing into the touch to tell him it's good. His tongue traces her lower lip, and she's wondering if it's all right to reciprocate when his hand shifts, popping open the bottom button of her shirt.His fingers slide inside, still on the other side of her camisole from her skin--she's not even that ticklish, but she's suddenly laughing. She should stop, she should tell Jane it's just that it tickled, not that--But Jane is laughing too, and tickles her a little bit deliberately, making her giggle harder. Just before she really wants to push his hand away, he presses his fingers down firmly, a touch that doesn't tickle at all, making her breath catch in her throat. His lips brush her cheek, the corner of her jaw, her ear, as he pops the rest of the buttons open and tugs on her shirt, untucking it from her pants.His mouth presses against her throat as his hand flattens on her ribs, warm and solid. She's conscious of how quickly she's breathing when each inhalation presses against his palm, conscious of the speed of her heart when--She grins and tilts her head to allow Jane better access. "Are you kissing me, or taking my pulse?""Multi-tasking," Jane says against her skin. His hand shifts up a little, so his thumb is pressed up under the curve of her breast. She can't really feel it--her workday bras are full-padding no-bounce specials--but it's there. Jane is touching her breast, on purpose and with her permission. They're doing this.She swallows and keeps her voice light, knowing perfectly well that Jane knows just how she feels. "What does my pulse tell you?"There's bound to be a pulse that would tell him she's aroused, and she wonders whether she is, whether she wants Jane to tell her she is. She feels warm and wet between her legs, her skin tingling at the thought of what Jane might do next. She feels just the least little temptation to pull away from Jane's grip and hide, but she ignores that one."I don't need your pulse to tell me you're excited," Jane murmurs, and his lips leave it, dropping kisses on her temple, her hair, as his hand slides back down toward her waist. "You're nervous, but less than I am."She wants to reach for his pulse to gauge the difference; her fingers curl in the bedspread with the effort of keeping still, and she knows that part is only going to get harder from now on. Jane is trusting her as much as she's trusting Jane. She's not going to let him down. She's not going to touch him.Jane takes his hand from her side and kneels up on the bed, moving behind her to start unbraiding her hair. He puts more care into it than she does when she braids it in the morning, far more care than when she shakes it out at night. By the time her hair is all loose and Jane's fingers are on her scalp, searching out the places where her hair pulled tight during the day, she's got her chin on her chest and is seriously reconsidering whether she wants to take any more clothes off, if it means Jane will stop doing this.He starts working down her neck, dropping stray kisses on the crown of her head, then on the side of her throat when he pushes her hair out of the way. She shrugs her shirt off her shoulders and Jane takes it away. Grace leans forward, her hands limp between her knees, as Jane rubs the tension out of her muscles, her skin heating from the friction of his hands--Jane has excellent hands, of course, magician's hands, pickpocket's hands, quick and dexterous.She's thought about those hands once or twice; Jane probably already knows that, so she'll never have to confess it. She smiles at that little weight lifted, that secret silently set free. She's barely registered that he's taken his hands from her shoulders when he's pulling up her camisole from the hem, and she raises her arms, letting him pull it off over her head.He tosses it to the armchair--it lands over one arm and dangles there, perfectly emblematic of debauchery. She expects him to go for her bra next--her nipples tighten at the thought, aching to be touched as her heart speeds faster--but his arms go around her instead. The sleeves of his suit jacket are soft against her bare sides as he uses both hands to unbuckle her belt and pull it free. He coils it loosely and tosses it after her camisole.He interlaces his fingers over her bare stomach, and it doesn't tickle at all this time. Then his hands part and turn, his fingers sliding just the least little bit under the waistband of her pants, brushing the bare skin above the top of her panties. She shudders at the feeling of Jane's fingers, warm and sure on her skin and headed down. Her hips push up into the touch, and her shoulders press back, half-involuntarily closing the distance to his body behind her, her bare shoulders brushing the lapels of his jacket."Ahhh," Jane murmurs, kissing the top of her head and sliding his hands back up her stomach. It's not a reproach, not quite, but Grace holds very still and lets Jane pull away from the contact.His hands come up her ribs until his thumbs are tracing the line of her bra, and he finally, finally, unhooks it and pushes it off. Grace tosses it over herself to join the Getting Laid tableau on the chair. Even before she's dropped her hands Jane's fingers are moving over her back, scratching lightly at the pressure lines from her bra, a sensation that skitters down her spine and between her legs. Her breasts feel heavy, and the air on them feels startlingly cold, her nipples tight and sensitive. She wonders whether Jane will consider it cheating if she touches herself.Jane's hands are there before she can firmly decide to raise her own, cupping her breasts. He pinches one nipple, hard but not too hard, a little spiraling hint of pain as he rolls it between finger and thumb. Grace bites her lip but can't hold back a throaty sound, though she remembers to sit up very straight. She's suddenly, strangely conscious that she's still wearing her shoes.Jane slides a fingernail over the tip of her nipple, and Grace makes another sound, her cheeks hot, her knees splaying open."Good," Jane breathes behind her. "Good, that's good. I want to know what you like.""I want," Grace says, and her voice comes out sounding strange, and even so she can't get the words out. "Jane, please--""Mmm." Jane's mouth is at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and she clumsily kicks off her shoes, scooting around on the bed in the process.Jane says, "Ah," and his hands slide down her stomach again to unbutton and unzip her pants. Grace is conscious of cool air against her skin--conscious of just how damp her panties already are--and then Jane's hands are continuing down the open vee of her pants. Before she's registered what's happening, he's pressing against her through the thin, wet cotton, sending a sudden spike of pleasure through her body."Jane," she gasps, because she's not in the habit of taking the Lord's name in vain at moments like this. Because she wants to remember that it's Jane, and no one else, making her body do this.Behind her, Jane says, "Hm," and his fingers are only touching her lightly now, higher, skating over the surface of her underwear. She realizes she didn't move at all when he touched her there--didn't push into the touch or pull away or move at all. She thinks maybe she was just trying not to touch him again, because he doesn't want her to, but she also knows exactly how long it's been since she had a man's hand right there, and....The last one wasn't Jane.Jane's hands come up to her waist, and then Jane leans forward. She leans forward as he does, trying to keep the necessary margin of space between them. His hands shift to keep her still as his chest presses against her shoulders and his arms slide around her rib cage and his cheek presses down against her hair.Grace laughs a little when she finally realizes she's being hugged, and she reaches up over her own shoulder and carefully pats Jane's, right where there are at least three layers of clothing between her skin and his. "It's okay, I was just--startled.""You need to be able to see me," Jane announces. He kisses her forehead upside down and then lets go of her, moving completely out of contact before shuffling over to the edge of the bed on his knees. He never quite stands up straight, just folds down to kneel at her feet. She's looking down at the top of Jane's head as he pulls her stockings off and sets them neatly aside with her shoes.He curls his hands around her feet, pushing a thumb into each arch, and this time Grace can't help herself. "Oh, God."Jane looks up, grinning. "Those heels can't be comfortable."Grace tilts her head and smiles as he keeps working his thumbs along the soles of her feet. "Of course not. So tell me why I wear them, then.""Oh, you think you have to wear heels to be truly professional, and you have to wear the highest ones you can get around in because you can't let Rigsby tower over you any more than necessary. Towering over Lisbon is just a bonus."Jane says it like it's obvious. His voice is warm, like it's a small habit he finds endearing. Grace tells herself not to blush at Jane talking about her shoes, when she's already half naked, when he's already....Jane releases her feet with a last squeeze to the toes. He kneels up and puts his hands on her shoulders, tugging her down into a kiss. She opens her mouth to his as soon as they meet, holding on tight to her own knees to keep from reaching for Jane. His hands move as he deepens the kiss. His tongue dips into her mouth and his hands slide inward, one at the nape of her neck and the other tracing over her collarbone, fingers slipping under her necklace to press against the skin where it usually rests. His hand is against her breastbone and he's taking her pulse again as he kisses her, holding her up or holding her back.Grace opens her eyes to find Jane's eyes are closed, and she instantly feels like she's seen something she shouldn't, though she can't say what, exactly. Jane didn't say she couldn't look, and she's seen him with his eyes closed a hundred times, pretending to sleep.She closes her eyes again instantly, but Jane pulls away a second later, murmuring against her lips, "Shhh, Grace, it's all right."She opens her eyes at that, startled, because he sounds like he's trying to reassure her. Jane smiles and kisses her cheek, and then pushes her gently backwards, sitting her up and then lowering her to lean back on the bed. He follows her through the motion, so that he's bending over her when she's propped up on her elbows. He kisses her mouth once more and then starts moving downward, nudging her necklace aside to kiss the spot between her collarbones, down her breastbone. He licks delicately at the underside of one breast and Grace bites her lip and arches her back.Jane glances up at her and smiles, and holds her gaze as he licks a line upward. His mouth closes on her nipple and Grace breaks, letting her head fall back and her eyes close. She drives her fingernails into her palms, not reaching for Jane, not holding his head there, not closing her thighs around him to anchor him, or herself, in this moment.Jane's hands flatten over her ribs, and she tries to focus on that pressure instead of the feeling of Jane's mouth, his tongue, the faintest touch of his teeth. She focuses on not moving. She doesn't make a sound until Jane takes his mouth off her to nuzzle between her breasts. It takes an instant for her to process what that sensation is, and then she lifts her head enough to look and see the tip of his nose brushing her skin. Jane looks up at her. His hair has fallen forward, and his smile can only be called mischievous."Grace," he says. "I really do want to know what you like."Grace lets her head fall back and closes her eyes; there's plenty she can't say while she looks him in the eye."Do that again," she manages, after she's licked her lips, after she's tried and failed to catch her breath. "I like that.""I noticed," Jane says, which ought to be infuriating, except that he does it again, and as he does, his hands slide downward, toward her waist. His thumbs rub in little slow circles as they go, his mouth is gentler on her breast, barely moving at all."Yes," she whispers, when his hands stop at the top of her pants, sagging a little lower now that they're unfastened. She doesn't want him to stop again. "Yes."His mouth leaves her, and the air is cold where she's wet from his mouth, her nipples, the strangely distinct path he licked. His hands are still warm and steady, assuring her that he's not going anywhere. They shift around her hips, and his fingers press up on the backs of her hips. She has to lift up so he can get her pants off.Grace bites her lip, settles her weight on her heels and elbows, and follows the pressure of his fingers up. His fingers brush down and hesitate again at the edge of her panties.She nods, but her eyes are still closed, and she doesn't know if he can see. It seems to take all her breath to whisper, "Yes," again.He hooks his fingers into her panties and pulls them down. Her eyes open almost involuntarily when her butt comes back down, naked on top of the hotel bedspread. Jane is easing her pants and underwear down and off her legs.She has to look, to see what he's doing, what he thinks of her, and she finds him kneeling at her feet, between her knees. He's looking up at her face, and he holds her gaze as he drops a kiss on her knee, and then on the other one. His hand closes on her ankle and she remembers that she didn't shave her legs this morning, but he's smiling even as his hand slides up her calf, even though she can feel the prickle of hair against his palm.His eyes are bright, and he kisses the inside of her thigh, just above the knee, and then the same spot on her other leg, and he says, "Grace, you are really--" another kiss, an inch higher, and then another, "very, incredibly ..."He kisses her thigh again and she knows that he's going to say beautiful. She thinks, from him, right now, tonight, she might even believe it.He kisses higher, higher, and finally he says, "Brave."She can't help grinning suddenly, and she feels like she's blushing all over her body, her skin going hot and tight, and Jane's eyes flick downward for an instant, telling her just how far down she's flushed. It's only for a second, though, and then his eyes are back on hers.She wants to say it back to him--Jane, on his knees in a three-piece suit--Jane is as brave as she is, maybe more. But maybe that's one of the ways he's not supposed to be naked with her; maybe that's one of the things she's not supposed to see.Jane is still smiling, anyway, kissing higher, and before she can decide to say anything--definitely before the flushed feeling subsides--her legs are open and he's kissing the top of her thigh. He adds, "Also, a very natural redhead."She's startled into another laugh--she wants to smack the side of his head, a little, except that his mouth is at the crease of her hip. He's sucking at her skin, no harder than he has to, but she knows--and she knows he knows--it will bruise. The elastic of her panties will hit that spot tomorrow, and this will still be real in the morning. She's not laughing anymore, just watching the top of his head, feeling his mouth, her whole belly tightening at that small sensation.Jane's hands are on the insides of her thighs, not pressing, just there. He's waiting for her to give him some kind of sign again; if she waits too long he'll look her in the eye again, ask again, and Grace really doesn't want to have to talk him through this. She lets her knees fall wider open, inviting him in. Jane's hands slide up, smoothly, naturally, and his thumbs sweep symmetrically up over her labia.Grace's eyes squeeze shut and her thighs tense. It's just enough sensation to spark through her belly and spine, just enough to make her realize how open she is, how exposed, how wet. Her toes curl against the hotel carpeting and she says, "Yes, y--"Jane's tongue is on her clit, and Grace moves this time, can't help moving, can't help making a sound that she hopes he understands is yes, yes. He doesn't hesitate any more, at least. His mouth and his hands move over her, the sensations blurring together into a haze of pleasure.She's conscious of other things in flashes--the sensation of Jane's suit jacket against the inside of her knee, the shadows cast on the ceiling by the single lamp, the sight of Jane's bright blond head between her thighs, the lewd wet sound of his mouth on her. She hears herself, sometimes moaning, sometimes saying his name. She thinks maybe she's supposed to say something more than that, but every time she thinks she remembers what, he does something startling and perfect and all she can say is, "Jane."She thinks he answers, sometimes, a particular touch of his fingers, a hum that vibrates through his lips and into her, a feedback loop she can barely stand. She's raking her fingernails across her palms, trying to keep herself still and quiet. She needs that little point of pain to balance out all the pleasure of Jane's mouth on her, Jane's fingers teasing her.He is teasing, she realizes. As good as it feels, breathtaking, dazzling, it's not enough. Jane's fingers only tease, never push inside, and the pressure of his tongue is good but only a suggestion of what she wants. He wants her to ask, she knows that. Maybe he's being delicate, unsure whether this is where she will draw the line. Maybe he just wants to make her say it, because he's Jane and he delights in that sort of thing.She knows all the words. I want you to finger my pussy, Jane, I want your fingers in my cunt. But she's biting her lip even thinking it. She doesn't want to say it. She's furiously frustrated suddenly--her hips twist and push into Jane's touch and it goes no deeper, gets no more satisfying. He wants her to say it and she's not going to say it.Without a thought, her hand is open, reaching down between her legs to catch his hand--his fingers are wet, from her. Her fingertip slips and catches on his ring as she folds her fingers around his hand to push them where she wants them--fucking herself with Jane's fingers--but he twists them inside her without prompting. Her hand tightens on his as she gasps, and Jane raises his head far enough to laugh--it tickles against her thigh--and then kiss the back of her hand before he tugs it away from his.Grace remembers abruptly that she's not supposed to touch. She grabs a handful of the bedspread and holds on as Jane's fingers and tongue push her closer and closer to the edge. Every muscle in her body tenses, trying to be still, trying to let it happen, trying to make it happen.Jane says, "Grace, breathe," and his fingers skid inside her just there and his mouth is on her again and she's lost, shaking apart for him. She's gasping, letting out these half-voiced cries she can't hold back. It seems to go on for a long time before she's lying there, a silly wide grin on her face, feeling all at once warm and relaxed and wide awake and floating.She realizes, eventually, that Jane isn't saying anything. Jane not saying anything is always a red flag of some kind, and she picks up her head and then pushes up onto her elbows. Jane's still kneeling between her splayed legs. His left hand is flat on her belly. His ring--Jane's wedding ring--reflects a light that shifts as she breathes. His forehead rests on her thigh, and at this angle she can't see his face, just the tumble of his hair and the line of his jaw. The tip of his ear is bright pink, and his shoulders are moving fast between her thighs, like he's breathing hard, like he's....He's breathing hard. She wants to touch him and knows that now, more than ever, she can't, that this is when she could hurt him most. She stares at his hand, to try to keep from looking at his face. His ring is loose on his finger; he must have lost weight, after. He should have it resized, but she knows he can't ever bear to take the ring off. The ring, and everything it represents, is too much a part of Jane and everything he does. Even tonight. Probably especially tonight.She should say something, at least. She's not sure that he even realizes she's looking at him, and she can think of just one other time that's ever happened. She shouldn't have been looking then--she hadn't, more than she had to. But this is something different, and even if Jane didn't plan this, it's part of what he chose her for. She's here with him for this. No one else.Grace runs her own left hand up over her hip, slipping her fingers carefully into the spaces between Jane's. She's careful not to touch him, but if Jane is conscious at all he'll know her hand is there, that she's here in a sense other than the body he's leaning on.He lifts his head a little but looks away, and Grace watches--feels--him pull himself together, getting his breathing under control. A few seconds before she thinks he'll look up at her, his hand turns and catches hers, and he's suddenly popping up to his feet, pulling her more gently along with him so that they're face to face--she looks up at him a little, without her shoes.Jane isn't smiling, now, but his eyes are dry. He's looking at her intently, like she's a puzzle, like there's something more he needs to understand. She keeps very still, willing him not to see what she saw.He squeezes her hand and says, "Thank you, Grace."She kisses him, because she can't bear to say you're welcome.It's a brief kiss, but she still tastes herself, sticky-salt on his mouth; she pulls back with a sheepish smile and Jane is smiling too, though he's perfectly unabashed. He squeezes her hand--with his wet fingers--and says, "You know, we've got this room all night."Grace bursts out laughing--it's Jane, and she knows exactly how much he doesn't mean what anyone else would mean by it."I would love to sleep with you," she says, when she's got her voice under control.Jane steps back and turns her by the hand toward the bathroom, smooth as a turn on the dance floor. "I took the liberty of setting out some pajamas, if you wanted something to sleep in."Grace becomes suddenly conscious, when she drops her hand and takes her first step away from him, that she's naked--that she's naked because they just had sex, and that Jane is watching her walk naked across the room.She doesn't let herself look back until she gets to the bathroom door, and Jane is in fact watching. He's standing right where she left him with his hands in his pockets, and a little lingering smile on his face. Grace raises her eyebrows. Jane shrugs and turns half away, and Grace shakes her head and steps into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her.There's a pair of pajamas neatly folded on the counter--they're very proper men's pajamas, light blue with white piping trim. She touches them and finds they're cotton, washed soft as velvet. They must be old, but they're perfectly made, perfectly kept. Beside them is a toothbrush, identical to hers at home except that it's still in the package, and toothpaste, a travel-size tube of the same brand she usually takes on trips out of town.Grace steps over to the counter, and looks up automatically at the motion in front of her--but it's herself, of course, in the mirror. Naked, and still flushed, her hair wild. And there, in the crease of her hip, is a little red mark that will be a bruise tomorrow. Grace runs her fingers over the spot, and then steps closer to the counter and stands with her legs apart, letting her hand drift in from the mark of Jane's mouth, between her legs. She's still wet, the curls there are dark and damp, and everywhere Jane touched is sensitive, almost aching. She shudders a little at the sensation of her own fingers where his were--she thinks for a greedy moment of going all over again here, alone--but that would be a waste.Grace smiles ruefully at herself in the mirror and gets on with getting ready for bed, washing up, braiding her hair loosely even though she has nothing to fasten it with, and finally pulling on the pajamas. They smell faintly like Jane, and for a moment, before she adjusts to the feeling of being clothed again, it's as if his hands are everywhere, barely touching her skin. They're his, of course. She shakes her head at herself; they're just pajamas, clean and comfortable.When she steps back out of the bathroom, Jane is lying on the bed. He's taken off his shoes and jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. He looks just like he usually does when he sleeps on the couch, except that his left hand rests lightly over his mouth, the first two fingers crossing his lips.Grace hesitates. "Do you need...?"Jane lifts his head slightly, and takes his hand away from his mouth to pat the bed beside him. "I'm fine. You sleep on the right, don't you?""Okay," Grace says, walking around to the right side of the bed, which is the one she prefers. He's found her phone and set it out on the nightstand beside her gun and badge, all close to her hand on the right side of the bed. "Now you're just showing off."Jane shakes his head. "I had a fifty-fifty chance without knowing anything about you, and if I got it wrong you were overwhelmingly likely to go along anyway."But he didn't get it wrong, of course. Grace just rolls her eyes and gets into the bed--he's lying on top of the covers, but he turned them down for her. She turns out the light.The room doesn't really get dark; they didn't close the drapes all the way, and light leaks in from outside. When she turns her head she can see Jane lying beside her, one arm tucked behind his head. This all seems different in the dark, lying beside him, waiting to sleep."Jane?" She speaks before she intends to, and isn't sure exactly what to say next.Jane turns his head toward her, wearing a crooked smile that looks different in shades of gray. "Anything above the collar is fine."She could kiss him. If she did, it would be for the last time; by the time she wakes up he'll be sitting in the chair reading a newspaper, drinking coffee, back to be Jane again, and this night will be over. It's already over, really. She can kiss him and cling to it, or she can try something else.Grace reaches out and runs her fingers through his hair, once and twice and then there's nothing to call it but petting him. Jane's eyes close."I've been wanting to do this for a while," she says softly.Jane smiles even as he reaches up and gently tugs her hand down. "It's the curls. Women can't resist the curls. They're very useful that way."He doesn't let go of her hand, but he doesn't hold on so tightly that she can't ease her fingers onto his wrist, finding the pulse just under the base of the thumb. She doesn't know what that little beat under her finger means, except that Jane is alive, but she says, "You're getting very sleepy."Jane exhales, somewhere between a weary laugh and a happy sigh, and says, "You know, I think I might be."
|
48201
|
Sky in Shade
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by Branch",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2010-01-09T00:00:00",
"words": "1,171",
"Additional Tags": "Porn, Romance",
"Relationship": "Fai/Kurogane",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
"What will you do after this?"Kurogane glanced over as Fai settled on the balcony beside him, pale in the settling night. "I’ll return to my duties here, of course.""Of course." Fai’s mouth curled but there was something darker at the back of his eyes.Kurogane was silent for a long moment before finally sighing. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the door post, looking up at the dark sky. "If we can’t recover your magic, then I’ll still be your prey. Will you mind living here?" Given that Celes didn’t exist any more.It looked like Fai was thinking the same thing."I suppose not. It will have to be somewhere." Fai looked around at the screened walls and swooping roofs as if seeing them for the first time. "It’s a lovely world," he said, quietly. Regathering himself he added, briskly, "Still, I expect not to trouble you with that."Kurogane couldn’t help rolling his eyes. "What trouble?" he growled. "It was my own decision and it wasn’t like you asked for it." He looked aside for a moment. "It isn’t any kind of problem."Fai eyed him with rare exasperation. "Kurogane, I’m drinking your blood.""I noticed." Kurogane looked at Fai levelly. "And?"Fai opened his mouth and closed it again with a sigh. "All right. Fine. I know I can’t out-stubborn you, by now."Annoyed, Kurogane snorted. "The only time you haven’t, that I’ve noticed, you were dying. And I said it isn’t any kind of problem."Fai’s mouth tightened. "I don’t like injuring you.""It’s practically a scratch, it heals right away, it barely even hurts," Kurogane said flatly.Fai blinked. "It… doesn’t?" His shoulders relaxed a shade."No, it doesn’t." Kurogane looked at Fai for a long, thoughtful moment before holding out his hand. "Come here. I’ll show you."After a moment’s hesitation, Fai slid closer and wrapped his fingers gently around Kurogane’s wrist. Kurogane’s mouth twitched and he curved a hand around Fai’s waist, pulling him closer. "More than that, tonight. It’s about time you stopped worrying about doing this." He drew Fai against his shoulder and tipped his head back, watching Fai through his lashes.He wasn’t surprised at all when Fai stiffened."Kurogane…" Fai’s hand braced against his chest, but Fai didn’t quite pull away and Kurogane snorted to himself. He’d figured Fai would be hungry by now."It doesn’t," he said distinctly, "hurt.""But…" Fai’s breath was brushing his throat now, as he leaned in. "Are… are you sure about this?"A chuckle rolled through Kurogane’s chest. "Yes, I’m sure." He lifted a hand, threading his fingers through the fineness of Fai’s hair, urging him closer.Softly, hesitantly, Fai’s lips brushed his throat and parted. Fai’s tongue stroked his skin and Kurogane took a slow breath, waiting for what was next.When Fai bit down it was too sharp to be pain, too hot to be pleasure, and a raw sound caught in Kurogane’s throat. Fai stilled against him and he whispered, "Don’t stop." Slowly Fai’s hands slipped over his shoulders and Fai sucked gently.The slow movement of Fai’s mouth on his throat made him shudder and Kurogane gradually slid down until he was spread out on the floor, Fai stretched over him. He’d thought this offer would prove to Fai that it was all right, and maybe it had; Fai wasn’t pulling away. And right now neither could Kurogane.He hadn’t expected it to be so intense. Hadn’t expected that baring his throat for Fai would fold him in the same ringing rightness he’d felt renewing his oath to Tomoyo. A corner of his mind wondered if that was wrong. He pledged everything he was to his master; a person couldn’t do that twice, could they? But Fai… Fai’s life depended on him even more surely than Tomoyo’s. He’d taken that on willingly.Fai’s teeth grazed his throat again and the thoughts spun away. Kurogane’s body pulled taut, hands tightening on Fai’s back. "Nnn. Fai…"Fai made an inquiring sound, distracted and lazy, and it came to Kurogane that Fai was taking longer to feed than he usually did. And that Fai was definitely more at ease than he had been, lying warm and relaxed over Kurogane’s chest.He remembered the brief word Subaru had made time to have with him, in Tokyo."It depends on how much of our instinct he has when he recovers, but since you’re his only prey he may become…" Subaru’s mouth tilted wryly, "territorial. It, ah, affects some people. "Kamui, had taken a moment from guarding Subaru’s back to glance at Kurogane and his nostrils had flared as if testing a scent. "I wouldn’t worry about it, if I was you," he’d stated.Kurogane hadn’t pressed for more detail, but maybe he should have.Or maybe he didn’t honestly need to.He slid his hands down Fai’s back and Fai nearly purred. The sound went straight to Kurogane’s groin. "Fai…" he groaned softly.Fai stretched out over him, tongue sliding against his neck, coaxing. Fai’s teeth closed again, delicately, not breaking skin this time but holding his throat firmly and Kurogane moaned, sliding a hand down his own body. He started when Fai’s fingers closed on his wrist in a steely grip. "Fai?"Fai made another pleased sound and slid his own hand under Kurogane’s kimono and between his legs. Kurogane gasped as long fingers closed on his cock, stroking him slowly. Those twins had an interesting definition of "territorial", he thought distantly.He couldn’t deny responding to it, though, and he spread his legs apart, hips rocking up into Fai’s hand, and stroked the slim, hard lines of Fai’s body. The confusion of sensations, the pleasure of Fai’s hand between his legs, the heat of Fai’s mouth on his throat, made him light-headed, but he certainly didn’t want it to stop.Fai’s fingers tightened on his cock and the sound Fai made now was lower, husky. His mouth turned hard and demanding on Kurogane’s throat, and the pure shock of that made Kurogane cry out. Heat struck down his spine like lightning and he moaned as it spun out into slow washes of pleasure that wrung him out over and over. It took a long time for that heat to release him, under Fai’s hands and teeth.He lay quietly as Fai lapped at his neck, running his hands slowly up and down Fai’s back until Fai stilled too. Finally he chuckled. "Told you it was all right, didn’t I?"Fai stirred and murmured, "You did." He didn’t look up from where he lay against Kurogane’s shoulder and Kurogane lifted a brow."So?" He ran his fingers through Fai’s hair, gently."I… think I would like living here," Fai said, very softly. His hand stole up, fingers brushing lightly over the bite mark on Kurogane’s throat.Kurogane’s breath shortened a little at the gesture and he smiled. "Good."They lay together on the balcony, silent, watching the moon rise. End
|
10099646
|
more than a nice boy
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Lydia Martin, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Prada (Teen Wolf)",
"Fandom": "Teen Wolf (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by ofself",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00",
"words": "333",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slice of Life",
"Relationship": "Lydia Martin/Scott McCall",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Dr. Deaton is the only vet in town. And his clinic leaves a little something to be desired in terms of décor and smell.But Lydia is not going to drive all the way up to the next county and pay triple the amount to a doctor who is overpriced and does not know how to deal with animals.Because Dr. Deaton for all his failings, is a fine man literally (what, it is true) and figuratively and he knows exactly what to do with animals. He has a demeanor that calms skittish animals, soothes aggressive ones and turns already happy ones into puddles of happiness.Lydia knows that she can trust Dr. Deaton with Prada and so when Prada is not able to chew her food properly, she takes her to Dr. Deaton on a sunny Saturday afternoon.Except when she gets there, Dr. Deaton isn’t there.“He’s gone to oversee a calving in the next county. And he left me in charge. I am-““His assistant obviously,” Lydia supplies and the boy beams, a sweet smile adorning his face, rendering her assessment true.She vaguely remembers having seen him somewhere. That uneven (and surprisingly attractive) jawline pings a bell.“I’m Scott. I’m in your class you know,” he helpfully says, before bending down to lift Prada onto the table.Lydia smiles politely. He seems like a nice boy. Lydia does not do nice boys.“She’s not eating properly,” is what she says instead of being polite and saying her own name and flips her hair over her shoulders. He probably knows her. Everyone knows Lydia Martin.Scott seems like a nice boy but that’s not enough. However, when his hands settle around Prada, and they seem like strong comforting hands and Prada, feisty and fickle Prada, leans into his touch and sits docilely on the table and allows him to examine her mouth, Lydia is more than impressed.Maybe, what’s his name, Scott is more than a nice boy after all.
|
10029989
|
House of Pranks
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Sans (Undertale), UF!Papyrus - Character, Fell",
"Fandom": "Undertale (Video Game)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Cear_IK",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "1,251",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff, Japes, Pranks and Practical Jokes",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Kedgeup - Relationship, uf!Papyrus/Sans, Sans/Fell",
"Series": "Skeletails",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Sans positively cackled. He didn't know what had gotten into him, but he felt positively fantastic. Enough so that he felt genuinely energetic for once. He was nearly giggling. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up like Blue. That thought managed to sober him enough to calm his breathing, but thinking about what he had planned had him off in giggles cackles again.He was sitting on the couch after booby-trapping the house, waiting for his mate to come home and the fun to begin. Their bedroom was the only non-trapped room in the whole house, but getting to the saferoom was the problem. He, of course, was safe- he knew where everything was, and even if he didn't, he could just take a shortcut and avoid everything. He ran through everything in his mind once more, trying to remember if he had forgotten anything or missed an opportunity. That involved thinking about what he had done, and that induced even more giggles cackles. The giggles cackling only stopped when he heard the door open. Fell walked in after a short day. Didn't mean he wasn't tired- he was, but he wasn't completely wiped like he would have been on a normal day. Because of that, he wanted to do something special with Sans, but for the life of him couldn't figure out what. Bringing the small skeleton somewhere crowded was out of the question- the small skeleton's anxiety would preclude any enjoyment to be had, and if Sans' anxiety didn't, their shared paranoia would. Secluded places were out for the same reason. That didn't leave a lot of places, and while both of them felt safe at Grillby's, Fell didn't enjoy the grease. He would have gone anyway because Grillby's made Sans happy, but it wasn't special. His musing came to a stop when he saw what - and who - was waiting for him on the couch.Sans was sitting on the couch wearing nothing but his jacket and a pair of his omnipresent basketball shorts, tail neatly looped out of the way. But it wasn't his mate's clothes - or lack of them - that stopped Fell in his tracks. Sans was known for his remarkable pokerface (made easier by his permagrin), but there were other ways to figure out what someone was thinking and Fell was particularly observant. Sans was never able to hide anything from him. Something was making him excited and adding that hint of smugness- was Sans actually wiggling?"Sans.. are you wiggling?" The movement stopped. "You were!""n-no i wasn't!" Blue erupts along his zygomatic as he fruitlessly denies the accusation. Even when he was embarrassed he was still smiling in that excitedly smug way. Fell arched a socket at Sans, who tried (and failed) to look innocent. Sans could out-wait Fell even on his worst day though, so Fell gave in rather quickly."Alright Sans, what are you trying to hide?" Fell snorted at Sans' best 'who me?' expression."i'm not trying to hide anything." Suddenly a look of pure mischief replaced the look of false innocence. "i'm succeeding." Fell knew that look, that was the look Sans got when he was about to jape someone- . . . or already had."Sans! You didn't!" The monster on the couch started giggling cackling. "did what?" He wasn't even trying to sound innocent."Sans, no!" Fell couldn't suppress his smile at his mate's giggles. They were rare and normally it was hard to make Sans this happy."sans, yes!" As much as he loved Sans and delighted in seeing his mate this happy, he couldn't suppress the groan that escaped him. "you're smiling."
"I know and I hate it!"
"aww, don't feel too bad, love." Fell blinked as Sans (impossibly) pulled a large, powerful-looking Nerf gun from between the couch cushions and caught it automatically when the other tossed it to him. "i didn't want to defeat you too badly, so i figured that you should have some way to... avenge yourself." Sans' tone dipped into something a bit more serious and phalanges touched the cyan tag attached to the ever-present collar around his neck. "There's nothing in the saferoom, and if it gets to be too much, just say the word and i'll 'port us right there." The phalanges dropped back to the couch and Sans' too-pleased grin was back. "otherwise, just getting to the bedroom is gonna be a problem!" Then the insufferable little shit esteemed and beloved mate took one of his fucking shortcuts away, leaving Fell standing in the middle of the living room holding a heavy-duty Nerf gun that he knew wasn't going to be enough to handle what was coming... if it even functioned properly (aka, wasn't sabotaged). Sans waited on the bed of the guest bedroom, excitement jittering through his soul. Even with all of the patience he possessed, it was hard to stay still and quiet. The only thing that had kept him in the room and quiet was the sound of successful pranks and the exclamations (and swears) that accompanied them. It was this method that allowed Sans to track his normally incredibly stealthy mate through the house, but those sounds had died out hours ago. Now he was hard-put to contain his curiosity and excitement. What the hell. Might as well.He teleported to the couch, cautiously glancing around, but Fell wasn't in sight. Nothing looked effected... Sans peeked into the kitchen. He couldn't see Fell there either and it didn't seem as if any of the traps and pranks in the kitchen had been activated either. He almost couldn't believe that Fell hadn't gone into the kitchen - if not to see the damage done to his beloved kitchen then to use the sink - but there wasn't any evidence he had, so in that case he could probably use it was a temporary hiding spot and take a shortcut away when Fell-Sans yelped when he tripped on a tripwire he hadn't placed. He would have fallen on his face, too, if not for the large hand that grabbed him by the scruff of his hoodie- and then picked him up and dangled him by it. That's how a very sheepish Sans came to be nose-to-nose (rather, nasal bone to nasal bone) with a very... irritated Fell. Who was also blue. Sans found himself holding back a snort at seeing the familiar red eyelights in a blue skull.
"You little cretin! You... Why are you laughing?"
"i'm - pfft - not."
"Uh-huh. Then what, pray-tell, do you call this?"
"ummm....""That's what I thought." To Sans' surprise, he was gently placed back on the ground. When he looked up, the irritated look of fondness (and hidden spark of amusement) in Fell's sockets took his breath away. Stars. It was moments like these that reinforced why he loved this (no longer as violent) violent version of his brother. "All of this was... entertaining, and clearly you worked hard on it. Your reward will be waiting for you in our bedroom- if you can reach it without taking a shortcut." Fell chuckled at the absolute look of horror on Sans' face. "I believe the joke's on you, Love. Good luck!" With that Fell walked out their front door, leaving Sans in a house full of traps and pranks that - he was sure! - had been sabotaged and converted into Fell's japes. Knowing Fell, he was going to by-pass everything and enter their bedroom through the window, something Sans couldn't emulate. He was so totally screwed.
|
10059794
|
Bath Time Catastrophe
|
{
"Archive Warning": null,
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Otabek Altin, Yuri Plisetsky",
"Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by Macmak",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00",
"words": "585",
"Additional Tags": "Yuri hates water, Haha because he's part cat, Bath time is a nightmare, Otabek doesn't know how he survives these, Fluffy stuff near the end",
"Relationship": "Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Otayuri Hybrid Life",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
It was rather hard to believe Yuri had already been with Otabek for a few months now. After the blond hybrid was brought in by the Kazakh he agreed to stay and make himself at home. He wouldn't lie saying he loved living with Otabek. He was given meals everyday and was free to roam around wherever he wanted without being put in a small cage. To him he was living the absolute life. Of course it couldn't be like that all the time and there were always those certain times Yuri would just dread and try to get away from.Bath time."Come on, Yura. It isn't bad it's just some water." Otabek spoke as he tried pulling the scared kitten from the couch. "And get your claws out of the couch before you ruin it." He sighed.Yuri growled and glared at Otabek. "I'm not going in that death trap! You know just how I feel about water and you can't make me go in this time!" The hybrid hissed, the white cat ears down to make him seem more threatening. Otabek just rolled his eyes and managed to get Yuri of the couch only to quickly regret it as he felt those claws dig into his arms. He groaned and carried the other to the bathroom before closing the door and standing in front of it only to put Yuri down. "If you hurry up I can make your favorite for dinner." He gestured to the tub full of warm water before stepping out. "I will be right out here so you can't escape."Yuri frowned and went to the tub. His tail flicked in annoyance and he growled before hissing and sitting on the toilet."Yura, you aren't coming out until I hear you in that tub!" Otabek yelled, voice muffled through the door."Fuck you, Beka!" Yuri yelled back only to hear soft chuckling. The Russian groaned and stood up before getting undressed. He glared at the water, tail fluffing up before he stepped in and flinched, body tense as he sat in the water and started to wash as fast as he could. Once those few torturous moments were over he got out and opened the door, rushing passed Otabek and dripping water all the way to his bedroom. The taller male sighed as he followed the trail only to slip on the trail and fall on his back with a loud thud.Get a cat they said. It'd be fun they said. The Kazakh thought to himself before standing back up and going into the bedroom to see Yuri in one of his shirts. He couldn't help the little smile on his face before he grabbed a towel and dried the other's hair. "You know you're lucky you're a cute kitten." Yuri rolled his eyes. "I'm not a kitten. I'm more of a fierce tiger.""Right. A fierce tiger afraid of water." Otabek pulled away. "How about you pick a movie while I make dinner?" Otabek ruffled the other's hair. Yuri nodded and left the room quickly, his tail swinging back and fourth as he seemed a little more relaxed now that he wasn't in water. That time during dinner they watched some cheesy rom-com. True bath times were Yuri's least favorite times. But he could always forget about them since these times of feeling Otabek's warmth next to him as they laughed at a cheesy movie made it all worth it. He really was living the life.
|
10033721
|
Hold it for Me
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Josh Dun, Tyler Joseph",
"Fandom": "Twenty One Pilots",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by multibean",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "2,240",
"Additional Tags": "Vibrators, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sex Toys, Blowjobs, just smut tbh, PWP, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dom/sub Undertones, Public Humiliation, Tags Are Hard, Embarrassment, Anal Play, Nipple Licking, lol poor Tyler",
"Relationship": "Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Joshler PWPs",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Poor little Tyler couldn't take it.Josh leaned over him, smiling as he watched him biting his tongue and clenching his fists. He was shaking, sweating, panting."Don't," Josh warned him. "Don't you dare tip over the edge.""I have to," Tyler said, a heavy strain in his voice. "Josh, I'm going to-""No, you're not. Hold it, for me. You can do this."Tyler gave another loud vocalisation before bucking upwards slightly, and then relaxing, gaining his momentum."If you're finding this hard, I might have to take this a step further," said Josh."A step further?" Tyler cried. "Don't you mean a step back? You can't make this even harder for me.""I can, and I probably will. Say, Tyler, if we were out in public - where everyone can see us - I'm sure you'd find it easier to hold it there. Or maybe you'd find it harder."Tyler frantically shook his head as the feeling built up again. Higher, higher, until he was right on the edge, his mind foggy with arousal - and then he stopped himself. He didn't even know how he did it, but he did it for Josh."So," Josh began, "I've made up my mind, and I can imagine you have, too. It's not like I'm forcing you into exhibitionism or anything like that. It's your own behaviour that'll expose you."Tyler growled. "Yes, I've made up my mind, and I'm not doing that. It's hard enough as it is."Josh sighed, eyeing him up and down."I'm taking the harness off you for now," said Josh."No, no, don't," Tyler begged as the sweet sensation built up inside him once again. "It's too good. Just let me, once. Please." He gasped as the pleasure shot through him once again.Josh shook his head. "You've had enough playtime. I'm taking it away for today. Don't make a fuss."He removed the harness strapped around Tyler's waist, gently pulling out the vibrating dildo that had been deep inside him for the past half hour, causing him to quiver and moan as he did his best not to lose control.It was a unique device - black leather straps that looked rather uncomfortable from the outside, only to be covered with a soft cotton layer on the inside. And towards the back was a very large, wide vibrator that practically guaranteed an orgasm for anyone who wore it.Unless their name was Tyler Joseph of course, in which case they wouldn't be allowed to orgasm because Josh Dun took great pleasure in denying him. Josh clearly knew what he was doing, because the train they were on was absolutely packed."There's so many people," Tyler hissed to him, doing his best not to squirm and shiver and moan."That's the point. One of the main goals is to keep still and act normally, because we're in a public place, and you don't want anyone knowing there's something up."Their outward appearances were absolutely normal, but Tyler wore the harness on the inside of his jeans, the vibrator deep inside him, causing him to give little pants that got louder and louder until he realised that people were staring.He was mid sentence when he shifted position, causing the dildo to press right against his prostate."This is so humiliating, Josh. It- oh, fuck, fuck, it feels so-""Be quiet," said Josh. "And don't let yourself tip over the edge. Hold it. That's the major rule, but don't forget, you're in a public place."Tyler was sat on the chair closest to the aisle, his thighs trembling as he whimpered with pleasure. He had two goals in mind: one, don't orgasm no matter what. And two, don't draw attention to yourself.Goal number two wasn't exactly easy with the warm, tingling pleasure inside him that shot through his body, through his veins, and out through his mouth as little pants and moans. Here he was, in public for all eyes to see - sweaty, shaking, gasping, holding his breath for too long as he tried his hardest to hold off the climax.He remembered what Josh had said. It's not like I'm forcing you into exhibitionism or anything like that. No, he wasn't that delightfully cruel, but this was bad enough.Being the cheeky little fucker that he was, Josh discreetly reached over and began to gently press his fingers against the solid bulge in Tyler's jeans, forcing him to let out a sudden moan that drew even more attention."I'm, um," Tyler began, crossing his legs and squeezing every single muscle in his lower body. "I'm going to, um... Josh, I can't do this.""You can do this." Josh glanced up to check they weren't being gazed upon before rubbing his hand against Tyler's erection through his jeans, his palm creating circular motions right against his tip.Tyler sat with tears in his eyes, never wanting the blissful torture to end. As Josh put it, this was just a regular day out - a train ride to their favourite town, a nice walk in the park, a bit of shopping here and there - and now they were in a café.Sitting down was probably the worst (ahem, best) part. Tyler took a seat on the wooden chair as Josh brought the tray over, and he felt it shift inside him once again."Ahh," Tyler groaned, clenching his toes inside his Adidas Superstars as the dildo shifted inside him, vibrating just next to that sweet spot, but not quite.A few other customers glanced over, but it could easily pass off as something absolutely normal - a bump, a knock, anything other than a moan of sexual pleasure.Josh glanced up as he sipped his coffee, a sinister smile in his eyes. He slowly put down his cup, and allowed a smile to slowly form on his face as he watched the beads of sweat forming on Tyler's forehead, the faint pink patches on his cheeks growing darker in colour.Tyler gripped the edge of his seat. "Oh, god. Oh, my god, fuck," he wailed as the vibrator pressed against his tight rectum, sending waves of complete ecstasy soaring through him.Josh carried on smiling, casually sipping the dark beverage. "Drink up, Tyler. Before it gets cold."Ignoring him, Tyler closed his eyes, basking in the pleasure but being sure not to allow it to rise all the way to climax. He remained virtually silent, quiet whimpers escaping his lips now and then. He felt the moist patch of precum against the front of his underwear that grew larger and wetter by the minute.Finally, when he felt he had managed to gain a little control, he picked up his cup of coffee. He was still looking rather flushed in the face and sweaty, but he had stopped trembling so much.He crossed his legs and the erotic shock waves hit him once again, so much so that the cup slipped out of his hand and smashed on the floor. Some of the hot coffee hit Tyler, which left tiny burning sensations dotted over his skin."Shit!" Tyler hissed as one of the members of staff came over. "I'm so sorry about that.""Don't worry about it," the lady reassured him as she swept up the broken pieces and mopped up the coffee. "Accidents happen. It's absolutely fine."Tyler glared at Josh, the pleasure building and building... but with someone less than 2 metres away from him, there was no way he could give anything away, so he pressed his thighs together, bit his lip and did his best to ignore it.The sound of the cup crashing onto the floor had drawn even more attention to him, and when the lady was done cleaning up, he was back in full view - whimpering, quivering, moaning, digging his nails into the wooden table. He began to shift his ass backwards and forwards slightly, telling himself he just wanted the pleasure to subside when, in reality, he was doing his best to intensify it."Ohh!" he moaned out loud, not even really caring anymore. "Oh, god! Josh, holy hell, it's so good...""Shush!" Josh hissed."I can't hold it anymore," Tyler whined, running his hands along his thighs as he pressed the dildo a little deeper inside him. He moaned even louder, until Josh finally got up and went to pay for their drinks before dragging him out of the café, several confused and amused eyes watching them. Tyler slumped onto the sofa, burying his face against it in shame."You've been a bad boy," Josh scolded."Mmm," Tyler mumbled."I told you to try not to draw attention to yourself. And just for that, I'm not letting you orgasm. At all."Tyler sat up. "What?" The shift in position forced him to groan again as the vibrator buzzed against his sensitive inner walls.Josh sat in front of him, slowly stripping off Tyler's shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. Tyler laid back and sighed, his eyes closed. Finally, he had Josh to do with him what he pleased.Of course, he still had to follow the number one rule: he wasn't allowed to orgasm. And if he did, punishment was sure to follow.Now he had been stripped down to nothing but the harness around his waist, which was padlocked with a bronze lock on the left side.Josh gazed at Tyler's skin before pressing his hands against it, rubbing the inside of his thighs as he was laid out in front of him. He leaned forward and began to kiss him passionately from head to toe, sucking on his smooth, warm, soft skin, gently biting here and there and leaving tiny little pink teeth marks. He held Tyler's shoulders before grazing his tongue right against the tip of his left nipple, causing him to shudder slightly, his breathing becoming more shallow and laboured."Why won't you let me? I did everything you had in mind.""Because you had people staring, Tyler. You were nearly as loud as you are in bed, and I told you not to be. You disobeyed."Tyler pouted, but his flushed expression soon relaxed when Josh sucked on his right nipple, rubbing and gently pinching the left. His chest was covered in several large, pale pink patches.Josh travelled South and gripped the base of Tyler's cock, which was dark and hard and slick with precum that trailed down his shaft until Josh licked him, lapping it up and smearing it against his shaft.Tyler closed his eyes tightly. "This is impossible, Josh."Josh snorted. "It's not. It's just not easy." And with that, he took Tyler in his mouth, his large, warm, sensitive length gliding along his wet tongue with ease.The whimpering and moaning became louder as Josh sucked him, and Tyler thrusted upwards ever so slightly, allowing himself to be plunged a little deeper into Josh's mouth, towards his throat.He tried to think straight, be rational, realise that he did not have to climax, even though it was heavenly and Josh's mouth was so wet and hot and the vibrator was tingling him and-Josh pulled away from his cock. "Hey," he snapped, lightly hitting his thigh, causing him to jolt upright. "Less of that. You were about to let yourself go just then."Tyler frowned at him before he succumbed to the erotic tingling within him again.Josh took him in his mouth once again and Tyler gave a deep sigh of relief, quickly losing his control, becoming intoxicated. He was drunk on the pleasure, drunk on sex, and he never wanted to sober up.He gripped the base of his cock and began to swirl his warm, slippery tongue against his tip, pushing and flicking it against it. Tyler writhed and squirmed, turning his head to bite into the cushion beside him, saliva oozing from his lips and onto the fabric."You are a hoe," said Josh.Tyler grunted. "I am not a hoe!" He could barely form a sentence, doing his best to hold it, refusing to let himself go."You are a hoe, because sex is all you live for and you'll play around with anyone as long as they don't let you climax.""The opposite is true," Tyler protested, panting as Josh gripped the upper part of his shaft, running his thumb over his tip."I don't believe you. I think you love it when I torture you like this." He smiled and added, "You love the insanity, you little hoe." By now, the urge was overwhelming, unbearable.Tyler was a mess.His hair was damp with sweat, precum smeared on the insides of his thighs, sticky and moist. His cock was swollen and dark in colour - sensitive, tender, slick.His eyes and cheeks were red and he felt physically drained, exhausted, practically in agony."Josh," was all he could manage."Yes, baby?" Josh responded."Won't you let me?"Josh shook his head as he pushed the vibrator further into Tyler, forcing an involuntary, choked moan out of his mouth. His muscles were tender and all he could think of was how much he desired the intense relief from this beautiful nightmare.It went on and on, and Tyler had no problem admitting by now that he never wanted to stop, and that maybe being held in such a state of unbearably high arousal wasn't so terrible after all.
|
10049282
|
Worthwhile Version 20
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Grunkle Stan | Stanley \"Stanford\" Pines, The Author | Original Stanford Pines",
"Fandom": "Gravity Falls",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Control_Room, Keleficent",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00",
"words": "2,901",
"Additional Tags": "Suicide Attempt, Canon Divergence - A Tale of Two Stans, Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hypothermia, Fluff and Angst",
"Relationship": "Stanford Pines & Stanley Pines",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“I’m giving you the chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life, and you won’t even listen.”
Stan had stormed out when Ford said that. His brother’s words haunted him because they confirmed and set in stone what he feared all along. His brother, his former best friend, believes he’s never done anything worthwhile in his entire life. Anything and everything, all Stan had ever done, he took every step for his family, and his own twin brother thought he was worthless.And, despite the hopes cast onto a wish and a prayer, Stan knew he was right. Stan has known it all along. All his lying, cheating and stealing amounted to absolutely nothing. Zilch. He finally had the one chance to have his brother back, and he completely ruined it. He should have just done what Ford wanted. They’d be apart, sure, but at least Ford would care about him again.He shivered and tried to bundle his jacket more tightly around himself only realize it wasn’t there. He had to have left it at Ford’s house, there was nowhere else he had been. Great, now he had to go back and admit to that smug nerd of a jerk that he left his jacket behind like the moron he was. He hoped Ford would even be gracious enough to let him get his jacket so he didn’t freeze to death.Then again… would his brother even care? For all he knew, Stan could have been dead these past ten years, and he nearly was many times. All those times he faced death,looking it in the eye, whether by his someone else’s hand or his own, he asked himself if anyone would even miss him if he was gone. Ford always came to mind. It was a flimsy hope, but it was the only one that gave Stan the will to survive.Maybe he should just bite the bullet and risk the trek back to town. It seemed just as futile. No one would care if he didn’t make it back. So, why should he?
“I’m giving you the chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life…”
Why should he?
“I’m giving you the chance to do the first worthwhile thing…”
There was still one worthwhile thing he can do.
“…first worthwhile thing in your l i f e …”
He could, and would, rid the world of Stanley Pines for good.He dropped to his knees, the snow softening the fall. He scooped the snow surrounding him into a pile, just like how he used to make a snowman back in Glass Shard Beach, with Ford. He used the pile as his pillow as he laid on his back. He extended his arms and legs like when he used to make snow angels. But he didn’t move a muscle. He was still as death.Due to the painful fact that he rarely had a roof over his head, he had to regulate himself to the warmer, southern states. He hadn’t seen snow in years. He always loved the snow. Because of his dangerous lifestyle and all those out for his blood, Stan thought his death would ultimately be more gruesome. Freezing to death didn’t seem like a terrible way to die. It’ll be quite easy, seemingly like going to sleep. He had fallen asleep in the cold plenty of times. Now, all that he needed to do was let his body go numb and relax… Ford was getting worried. He clutched the jacket that Stan had forgotten when he stormed off tightly against his chest. He had gotten concerned when Stan didn’t come back right away. How on Earth was it possible that Stan could not notice he didn’t have it? He should have to come back eventually, right? After a few nerve wracking minutes, he decided he had had enough anxiety for three lifetimes. He grabbed his coat and decided to go after Stan and meet him halfway.As Ford searched for his brother, he had quite enough time to contemplate his actions. In a sudden wave of crashing guilt, he instantly regretted his harshness towards his brother. Truthfully, in retrospect, he should have understood why Stan would get upset. He literally hadn’t seen him in years, and the first thing he does, in contact, is summon him out of the blue so that Stan could do him a favor. A favor asking him to go away from him once again. He at the very least owed Stan an explanation.Looking up and squinting into the bright snowy expanse, Ford saw something up ahead. It seemed to be a person laying on the ground. Though, it obviously wasn’t just any person….“Stanley?” Ford asked cautiously as he crept over to the supine individual’s side. It was Stanley. Of course it was. It had to be. There was no one else it could be. “Stanley, are you okay?”Stan gave several morbidly blank blinks before finally acknowledging his brother’s presence. He merely stared at his older twin before slurring, “What are you doing here?”“You forgot your jacket, you knucklehead,” Ford tried to put it on him, but Stan swatted at him. “For G-d’s sa–”“Leave me alone.” The words came out as a dejected sigh.“Stanley, I need to get you out of the cold.” Ford attempted to help his brother up, but he rebuffed him once again.“Go away.” A silent plea underlay the gruff command. But what it was, Ford could not tell.“Stanley, do you want to freeze to death?” Stanford tried to keep the snappiness from his tone. Yet… his brother said nothing. Ford’s insides twisted as the horrifying implications of Stan’s silence set in, penetrating deep into every single fibre in his frame. “No… no, Stanley, you can’t… no….”“You don’t have to pretend to care, Stanford. Just go back to your mysteries. I’ll be out of your life soon enough.” Stan’s eyes hardened momentarily, then closed as he turned his head to the opposite side and almost impatiently waited for Ford to walk away, abandoning him for the last time. Instead, he lowered himself to the ground to lay beside Stan. Stan groggily turned back to face him, brown eyes piercing and searching, eyebrows knitted together. He opened his mouth ever so slightly to ask… “What are you doing?”“… I’m not leaving without you.” The question had caught Ford off guard, but it really shouldn’t have. Stanley was Stanley, always looking for the answer right in front of him.“And what?” Stan scoffed, but it lacked bite. “Die with me?”“If you won’t come with me,” Ford squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rationalize his words, only finding no way to do so. “Then…”“Then what?” Stan inquired tiredly. G-d, he sounded so worn.“I came into the world with you,” he swallowed and opened his eyes, letting the snow blind him in beauty once more. “I can leave this world with you too.”Stan literally could not believe this. It hurt to think about this entire paradoxical situation. It was driving him up the wall. First, Ford dismisses him as worthless. Now, Ford was playing chicken with his life for him? He can’t take much more of this emotional tug of war.“Are you serious?” Stan said weakly, hating how his voice came out as barely above a whisper. He could always tell when Ford was bluffing. But this time, there was no mischievous twinkle in his eyes, his lips did not twitch. It astonished him to extremes. “You’re serious.”Ford had given him absolutely no choice. Stan begrudgingly sat up, using all his willpower and putting in all his strength. He reluctantly held out his arms so Ford could put on his jacket, which he did with the utmost amount of care. Ford then gently helped him up, arm under arm. Yet, as soon as Stan had been sure of his footing and he stood, his body seized up and collapsed, refusing to function as he desired it to.“Stanley, come on,” Ford said calmly, but hidden beneath his voice was panic. “Get up.”“I… I can’t.” The cold settled deep into Stan’s bones. It paralyzed him.“It’s alright,” Ford insisted as put his brother’s arm around his shoulder to support him as they walked back. He was alarmed by how Stanley’s shivering gradually slowed. “I- I’ll help you.”Stan fitfully collapsed once again, nearly knocking Ford over as well.“I- I don’t think I can make it, Ford…” his voice shook and his body barely trembled.“Yes, yes, Stan, you can,” Ford’s own voice threatened to crack. He assisted his brother up again, now, he was nearly supporting all the weight of his twin. He pushed through the insomnia induced exhaustion, because he knew, that every second that Stan was out in the freezing snow decreased his chance of survival. “Just- please- just… just hang on a little longer. I’ll get you nice and warm, okay?”Stan saw the wooden house up ahead. It was so close to him, he could almost feel himself stretching out next to his brother by a soothing warm fire. Just a few more steps. But he couldn’t do it. His body was shutting down, defying his brain screaming to keep moving. He was too weak to even shiver, his heart slowing to accommodate the peaceful weather. He didn’t even feel cold anymore, just… very, very, very tired. His eyes drooped. His nose felt like each breath was boiling water, scalding his lungs. His mouth was an icy furnace, stabbing cherry red blades that stung like ice into his throat. And his ears began to buzz, so that the last thing he heard was Ford’s panicked voice begging him to stay a w a k e .The next time Stan woke up, he knew was, somehow in a very innate way, was delirious. He tried to process everything that was happening around him. He was lying down. There was someone standing above him, that never was good. That person reached his hand towards him, red flags everywhere. Stan instinctively flinched away, as the only physical contact he’s had the last ten years was people trying to harm him. He tried to move away but found something heavy was tucked around him restricting his arms to his side. He began to attempt a frantic thrash, but found his arms would not respond and would barely move.“Lie still, Stanley.”Stan continued his feeble attempts to move. But he was so weak, he knew it was a pointless endeavor. A hand touched his face. He whimpered expecting to be hurt.“Shh, shh, shh, Stanley, it’s okay. You’re safe.”The hand… it didn’t cause him any pain. First time for everything. In fact, it felt like it was gently stroking him. It felt warm compared to his deathly cold cheek. He found that he liked it.Stan slowly came to the realization that the thing on top of him was a blanket. Did this person give him the blanket? Maybe this person meant him no harm. Even if he did, Stan wasn’t strong enough to fight him. So, he kept still and offered no further resistance.“Please open your mouth.”It was a simple command, there could not be any harm in fulfilling the request, right? So, Stan obligingly opened his mouth, and only five minutes later did it occur to him how dumb that may have been in nearly any other situation. Something metallic was put in his mouth. It held a hot liquid that went down his throat. It tasted good, and it warmed his stomach, making him feel like he ate a hamster. If you did eat a hamster ever, you would know that it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. But it was not a hamster. He could tell because it was not fuzzy, just warm. It was… soup… he was being fed soup. Was he sick? He couldn’t be sick. He wasn’t the one who got sick, that was always…“Stanford…” The name came weakly from his lips. That’s who was with him: Stanford.“It’s me, Stanley. I’m here,” Ford continued to feed Stan until he broke until a coughing fit. The soup dribbled down his face. He used a napkin to wipe his brother’s mouth. He thought maybe that was enough food for now.“Ford, I…”“Shh…” Ford pressed his finger to Stan’s lips. “Go back to sleep. You need your rest.”Stan immediately obeyed Ford’s order to sleep. Stan’s breaths came out more smoothly. His skin also felt warmer now too.Stan had lost consciousness when they arrived at his house. His breathing had been heavily labored and his skin nearly as cold as the ice outside. Because of the stormy blizzard, Ford obviously would not be able to get him to a doctor, so he had to try to nurse his brother back to health himself. He took him to the bedroom and put him under every single last blanket he could find. He only left his side to make him a small soup which he gave him once he was at least somewhat awake.Though Ford felt better about Stan’s promising prospects, he still stayed by his brother’s side to keep a protective watch over him.Stan was much more coherent the second time he woke up. He let out a moan prompting Ford to get up closer to his brother.“Stanley, how are you feeling?”Ford looked so worried, so anxious. Stan could remember his brother risking his life for him, carrying him, bundling him up, and feeding him. He wasn’t complaining. It was nice to be cared for, to get a warm bed and a hot meal for an exquisite change, but one thing disturbed him…“Why? Why did you save me?”“How could you ask such a thing?” He asked, mortified. Ford had been so afraid he was going to lose his brother. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that Stan was suicidal after their fight. He would have had to live with the fact that he had pushed his brother over the edge. “Please… don’t ever do that again.”“I won’t, I promise,” He swore. Stan could never do it again, now that he’s seen how much it would hurt Ford. He looked towards his feet. “I’m sorry.”“No,” Ford objected, his voice attempting treason once more. “I’m the one who should be sorry. You were right, I’m selfish. I was so cruel to you. And you almost…almost…” Ford put his hand over his mouth and sobbed.“Hey, hey, calm down, Sixer. I’m here. I’m alive,” Stan assured his twin. He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and gave him a tiny grin. “Thanks to you.”Ford gave him a small smile and wiped the tears from his eyes, “You should get some rest.”“Yeah, here…” Stan moved to get up. “I’ll go to the couch so you can-”“You’ll do no such thing,” Ford ordered, grabbing Stan’s shoulders and made him lay back down. “You’re sleeping here until we get you your own room.”“My…my own room?”“Yes, your own room.”Now, Stan was the one tearing up. “You won’t regret taking me back, Ford. I’ll get a job. I’ll- I’ll get two jobs. I’ll help with your projects. I’ll help around the house. I’ll-”“Hush now,” Ford cupped his brother’s face. “I don’t care about any of those things. I just need my brother back.”“I need my brother back too.” Stan put his own hand over Ford’s. “I won’t be a burden, I promise.”“If you’re going to live in this house, you will never call yourself a burden or anything of the sort again. Is that understood?”Stan was amused at how much Ford’s scolding reminded him of their mother. “It’s your house.”“It’s our house now.” Ford grabbed the covers and carefully tucked them around Stan.“Where will you sleep?” Stan inquired as Ford sat back down in his chair.“Well,” Ford said softly, adjusting himself in the seat. “I’m staying here just in case.”“Ford…” he sighed, closing his eyes.“Don’t worry about me,” Stanford replied nonchalantly with a wave of his hand, hair sticking out in a thousand ways, bags under his eyes, and face unshaven. “I’m perfectly ok.”“Yeah, sure,” Stan muttered, rolling his eyes. “You need to sleep too, nerd.”“I’m not leaving you alone,” Ford insisted.Stan groaned. And people called him the stubborn one. Then again, he’d probably be doing the same thing if the roles were reversed. If they were reversed… an idea struck him“Well,” Stan said brightly, implementing his thought. He scooted over and lifted the blanket. “There’s a bed right in front of you.”“Stanley,” Ford responded slowly and hesitantly. “Um… are you sure?”“Don’t make this weird,” Stan stated bluntly. “Just get in the bed, Poindexter.”Ford slowly laid down next to him. He put his arm around Stan and snuggled close to him.Stan appreciated the affection he had been deprived of for so long. But he did have a reputation to uphold. “At least buy me dinner first.”“Shut up, knucklehead.”“Thanks for doing all this for me.” The warmth he felt from his brother’s body drove away the last bit of cold in Stan.“You’re worth it.”
|
10026611
|
Red
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Malik Al-Sayf, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Kadar Al-Sayf",
"Fandom": "Assassin's Creed - All Media Types",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by orangeCrates",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "5,136",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Red Riding Hood Elements, Werewolves",
"Relationship": "Malik Al-Sayf/Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Tumblr Drabbles, Off-Script Fairytales",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
There are monsters in the woods and if you're not careful and step over the stone between the paths, they will drag you away and you will never be heard from again.Malik had been told that his entire life and yet he'd made the mistake of stepping off the safe path letting himself be fooled into walking over those stones that glittered like stars at night.The way to his grandmother's house was so familiar Malik could have made his way there blindfolded.A forest grew alongside the path he took and between him and it was a long line of stones that pulsed with a faint inner glow that was barely visible in the daylight.Malik adjusted the basket on his arm as he walked. The sooner he got to his destination the better, really.And yet he slowed to a stop by a patch of flowers, which grew near the rocks, at the edge of the path.The flowers seemed like they'd be something nice to bring with him...and yet he hesitated to pick them. It was not safe to wander so close to the Border.Then he scoffed and marched over. Everyone he knew was afraid of the forest (Kadar always grabbed him by the sleeve and whispered how he thought the beasts in the forest would drag him away), and Malik had a healthy respect for the rules meant to protect them, but the forest didn't seem so terrifying to him.So he reached over to pluck a few of the flowers and tuck them into his basket.He was reaching out for another (it was golden in colour and the smell was soft and fragrant). His fingers never pass over the stones, but maybe he was wrong about that because a clawed hand shot out from the under growth and grabbed him. (Monsters cannot pass the stones. Everyone knew that.)A scream burst from his mouth (because how else was he supposed to react?), and he pulled back, but whatever grabbed him had a good grip on him and yanked him forward until he stumbled and fell forward.He barely caught himself in time to avoid falling flat on his face.When he scrambled up (panic making him shake because he wasn't supposed to be on this side), a wolf pounced on him and held him down against the ground.The creature growled and clawed at him. Malik tried to push it's muzzle away in a blind panic, baring his teeth in his struggle. The wolf scratched at him, scoring deep wounds into his arms and face before it accidentally brushed against the red cloak Malik wore and it hissed and fell back.Malik scrambled away, practically crossing the stones on all fours (and he thought, it was good that his mother had spelled the cloak with a protective charm). He was breathing heavily as he turned and stood, looking back towards the forest with his hands tense and curled like claws.He grimaced at the forest and the wolf was still there, his claws tipped with Malik's blood.It sat there with eyes that were far too intelligent for any beast and Malik was still shaking as he pulled held his left arm against his chest.The wolf opened its maw, it's canines sharp and dangerous looking as it said, "call for me and I will come to you."Malik took one step back, followed by another. A deep breath helped ease the shiver that crawled all over this body.Then he pulled his hood up and ran.It wasn't until he reached Grandmother's house that he remembered the basket he'd left behind.Malik gnawed on his lip as he pulled his hood down. Then he just sighed through his nose. Surely Grandmother would understand.He knocked on the door. Once, twice."Grandmother? I'm here to see you." But Grandmother had been bed ridden so Malik just reached up to the hanging planter near the door to take out the key and let himself in. His shoulders relaxed as he stepped through the door and shut it behind him, knowing that now he doesn't need to keep looking over his shoulder to see if the wolf had followed him."Malik, is that you?" The voice was frail but familiar and Malik smiled a little. "It's me." He cleared his throat, "I--I dropped the basket. I'm sorry about that."There was a pause from the other room, before Grandmother said, "it's no problem, dear."Malik made his way to the cupboard and pulled out the kettle. "I'll make you some tea." It was something he had done often enough."Thank you, dear." Came drifting out of the backroom followed by, "what's wrong?" when Malik dropped the kettle.The water that came out of the tap should have been clear. Yet it ran black and smelled foul (why did it smell that bad? How could it smell so strongly and yet his grandmother cannot smell it?). He gagged and slapped a hand over his mouth and nose as he hurried to turn it off."Malik? Is everything all right?""Yeah." Malik swallowed hard. "Grandmother, we should take a look at your well. I think something's wrong with it."Again there was a pause, then, "why do you think that?""It smelled." He said staring at the black rivers running down the side of the kettle."Oh, that." The voice said and Grandmother chuckled, "don't worry about that. Someone's coming to take care of it. Come to my room, Malik. I've missed you."Since the kitchen still stunk Malik was more than happy to leave it behind with quick steps. He headed for grandmother's room with sure footsteps like he had walked this path thousands of times and could do it blindfolded. The musty smell of wood seemed a lot stronger than it was supposed to be.Malik pushed the door open----and recoiled from the sight he saw."What's the matter, dear?" The--thing said with Grandmother's frail voice, but it was not Grandmother, but some large, black creature with long ears and sharp teeth that stank of rotting flesh when it opened it's mouth to speak, "come closer so I can see you clearly.""Who are you?" Malik backed out the door, baring his teeth with a grimace."What a silly question, Malik. Don't you recognize your own grandmother?" The last word came with a playful lilt but it did the opposite of reassuring him. (To be fair, if the thing had wanted to be reassuring it might have tried to avoid tilting its head until it was past the point any normal head should be allowed to turn. It may also had helped if it did not speak at all and kept the lights off.)"Of course I would. But I don't remember my grandmother having such large teeth or ears or--" He gestured to the thing's overall appearance, "eyes that glow!"Th thing blinked its huge eyes before its head snapped back into place. "You can see me?" Gooseflesh broke out all over Malik's skin, like he was attempting to raise his hackles. "Er. Could I convince you that it's to see and hear you better, my sweet, dear grandson?" It sounded a little hopeful even as Malik took another step back."And how would you explain the teeth?" But he wasn't really planning to listen and it must have been obvious because the thing seemed to give a shrug before it gave up any pretenses of being anyone's sweet grandmother."So it'll be easier to pick you out of my teeth. Come here!" It...leapt wasn't quite the right word. The thing seemed to stretch at high speeds and while that sounded ridiculous it was the single most terrifying thing in Malik's life to see its black mass seem to crowd the entire room as it came for him.Malik ran for the door, only to find it locked shut (who locked it? It hadn't been him)."Malik," The thing crooned, "where are you going so soon?" Malik turned and there was nowhere to run. All around him, the blackness was closing in and it smelled strong enough to make him gag and press himself against the door. "Stay a while, won't you?" Something came up to grab him by the chin.The blackness closed in from all sides and its putrid stink left Malik disoriented and lightheaded. When the thing opened its mouth, Malik remembered the wolf in the forest.
Call for me and I'll come for you.
He screamed, "Altair!"Then he heard glass shatter as something push against, then through the blackness. It barrelled into the appendage holding onto him, clamping its jaws onto it.There was a spray of black and a howl (of pain) as the blackness retreated from the corners of the room and slinked back into the form Malik had seen in the room. He fell to the floor and slapped a hand against his mouth and nose as the wolf growled from its place in front of him.He was still trying to make sense of everything when the thing accross the room roared, "you!"The wolf growled, before he leapt again, locking his jaw around the things throat. Black gushed out as the thing wailed, then gurgled The black fluid soaked into the wolf's muzzle and made Malik feel sick to his stomach as the smell seemed to permeate everything, come in through his nose, knock him over the head before settling in the pit of his stomach like a stone.He lurched forward and threw up in time with the thum pf the thing's body hitting the ground. He was still panting his hands bent like claws over the floor as a muzzle pressed against his cheek.Malik tried to sit back but really only succeeded in falling backwards.The wolf whined at him, stepping closer."How did you--were you following me?" He demanded and, strangely enough, the wolf's tail seemed to tuck between its legs."I had to keep you safe."And no matter how much Malik wanted to scream at the wolf, he knew he shouldn't. He stood on shaky feet. "Where's my grandmother? Did that thing eat her?"The wolf sat down. Its muzzle was still inky black. "The grandmother you remember never existed. This," It indicated with a turn of his head tio indicate this whole place, "is nothing but a farce meant to put you at ease so they can take your blood.""Why would they want my blood?""Because you are like me." When the wolf stood up, the motion was strange and it took Malik two seconds to realize that as its limbs straightened out they also grew longer and thicker, its very shape changing until it was a human that stood before him (not naked against all conventional wisdom). "You are from the forest.""That's impossible." Malik spat. "I was born in the small settlement nearby. I live in the same cottage with my mother and brother. The same one I was born in! I have never been in the forest--" Except this morning, "--and I am human."The wolf-man let him speak his piece, and didn't move any closer even when Malik was finished. "When was the last time you saw anyone else?""We're spread out. The closest family is--""But when did you last see them?" The question was so reasonable and malik was close to snapping an answer at him. But he couldn't--he couldn't remember. "Even if you live far apart you must have seen them before. or know their names. What are their names, Malik?""I--" He clutched at his head that suddenly started to hurt. "Shut up! There's a woodsmen. He--" lives somewhere. He must but where? Before Malik could regain his footing, the wolf asked,"What does your mother look like? What did she say when you left?""She said--she said to take the food to grandmother. That she hadn't seen me in a long time. I--" Malik groaned and sunk to his knees. The pain in his head was getting worse and the smell of the cottage didn't help at all."What did you do yesterday?""Shut up! I don't--"Malik's eyes snapped open when he was grabbed by the shoulder. "Think! Malik, you have to try!""I--"What did he do yesterday. He played with Kadar. And he--
--went to see grandmother. He had gone inside, talking about a strange wolf that tried to convince him to go off the path and there was his grandmother, indistinct but familiar offering him a drink of tea and then he was falling, falling to the floor and--
The whimper slipped from his throat and he curled in on himself tighter."I was here. But why--"His arm was held and, very slowly, the wolf rolled up his left sleeve. Underneath it was a crisscrossing pattern of old knife cuts that Malik had never noticed before. "What is this? What's happening?"The wolf scowled deeply at the wounds on his arm. Then pulled Malik up. "Let's leave this place first."Something niggled at him as the wolf pulled him out of the cottage, and when they took a step onto the cobblestone path he figured out what it was."How did you know my name?"The wolf turned back to look at him (and Malik's heart thudded hard in his chest, like adrenaline, maybe, but really more like--)."How did you know mine?"Kadar looked up when he heard the gate squeak from the game he'd made of a bunch of stones in the dirt. He stood up abruptly when he saw Malik come through the gate. "Brother!" he ran to Malik with wide eyes, not even reaching his waist, "you're back early..." His tiny hands reached out to grasp at Malik's cloak."Am I not supposed to be?" He said and normally it'd be teasing but this time, when he dropped to one knee in front of his brother (his red cloack still pristine despite the black stains on the rest of his clothes), Kadar's face screwed up like he was about to cry. "Tell me the truth, Kadar."Because Malik had always valued honesty. Because his brother knew that and had always----but always was not as long as Malik thought because Kadar's pinched face turned pink as fat tears rolled down his cheeks."You're supposed to be at grandmother's house. They--they promised they wouldn't hurt you.""They lied." Was Altair stepping through the gate. "Maybe they didn't hurt him now, but they're slowly killing him." He snarled, baring his teeth that took on a canine edge when he got angry. "And you're helping them.""No!" Kadar screamed, burying his face in Malik's chest."Look at him! Look at how much weight he's lost! You know it's--"There was a growl in the back of Malik's throat, feral and dangerous. "Enough!" His arms tighted around Kadar protectively. "Enough." he said, softer because Altair looked so hurt. He looked down again. "Kadar." But he shook his head and didn't answer. "Kadar, did you take my memories."There was silence. Then, "'m sorry."The admission of guilt broke his heart and Malik shut his eyes against the words that he hadn't wanted to believe when Altair said it."Why? Kadar, why would you do this?""Because I needed him to."Almost immediately, Altair crouched low and turned, putting himself between Malik and the woodsman that came into their yard. Kadar whimpered and Malik drew him in closer."Robert De Sable." Altair snarled, "I should have known you'd be behind this."Robert swung the axe in his hand absently. "I should have killed you when I had the chance. Both of you." He looked past Altair's shoulder at Malik who growled at him, keeping his arms around Kadar protectively.Altair backed up two steps so they were closer, in a low voice he said, "run to the forest. Don't look back."Maybe Altair thought Malik would leave Kadar behind, but that was simply not going to happen so he brought one hand low to hold Kadar more securely.When Altair went after Robert, ducking under the swing of his axe to launch himself at the man, Malik hoisted Kadar up and ran. He was through the gate when someone grabbed him by his cloak and Malik felt it pull him back until Kadar shouted something in a language that made gooseflesh rise on his skin.The cloak and the brooch holding it closed glowed then he heard Robert scream before he stumbled forward. He only barely managed not to fall, cursing as he ran forward. The forest loomed closer and he thought, beyond the rocks, passed the path there were monsters.(But then he thought, there were monsters here and better the ones you can't see than the one chasing you.)He threw himself down the last few feet, unable to stop his momentum and ended up falling into the brush."What are you doing?" Was Altair, his muzzle blood stained (also black) as he barked the words at Malik, "keep running!" Then he had to move aside as Robert's axe buried itself where Altair had been standing.Malik stood up, holding Kadar more securely against his chest. "Altair!" He was rooted to the spot and he didn't know why (and Altair looked back and thought, stubborn fool!).Altair growled one last warning at Robert before he ran back into the forest. When he ran past, Malik had already turned around to run deeper into the forest.Beyond the trees, there was an outraged scream.They stopped at a stream and Malik managed to coax Kadar into letting go, though he was still clinging to his cloak."Who was that?" Altair's ear twitched as he stood listening for sounds of anyone following them. "An old...enemy I suppose you can say. We stole something from him.""Why?""Because it was too powerful to leave in his hands." Altair cocked his head and now that he was a wolf again, his pupils had a more animalistic shape to them. "It was your idea.""Well." Malik said and didn't follow it up with anything. He looked down at Kadar. "Will he come again?""He cannot enter the forest. Monsters cannot pass over the stones."Malik had half a mind to say that Altair was the monster, but thought better about it. Then there was only the babbling of the water to fill the slince until Altair stalked towards them."Take off the cloak. Whatever magic was cast on you to alter your memories are tied to it.""No." Malik said and watched how Altair's hackles rose in response. Malik thought, if he were the sort of wild, vengeful creature Altair was then he'd never forgvie Kadar for this whole ordeal.He though, regardless of who he was in the past right this moment he was Kadar's only family and he would not abandon him.He said, "Find a place where Kadar can be kept safe from that man and I'll return your mate to you." and knew that he was signing his own death warrant.Altair led them to something that looked like a fortefied town. "This is Monteriggioni." was the brief introduction they received before Altair led them to the heart of the place where a large villa was (and along the way no one so much as glanced at the fact that they were a man, a child and a wolf walking through the streets).They were allowed entry when they reached the door and the most unsettling thing was that people seemed to recognize him.One person, a youth with a scar like the one on Altair's lips ran up to them. "Malik! I see Altair has found you--who is the child?"Malik shied away from him with a frown as Kadar ducked behind his legs. Rather than explain his strange behaviour, Altair asked, "Ezio, where is Leonardo?""Ah," Ezio said, clearly disappointed by Malik's cold greeting, "he is in his workshop." He looked at the child clutching Malik's robes and he said, "hello, little one."Kadar squeaked and hid his face behind Malik's legs.Malik said, "let's go."Leonardo, as far as Malik could tell, was a witch who was far too friendly and energetic to be around for long.Yet when he crouched down to Kadar's level to greet him, Kadar's blue eyes widened and he let go of Malik's cloack with one hand to reach out for Leonardo."It's because they're both witches." Altair said as they watched Kadar listen to Leonardo talk witgh rapt attention. "he can probably sense his magic. It doesn't help that Leonardo is good with children."Malik nodded mutely. "And he will be safe here?""The Auditore are powerful. Robert De Sable and his people would not be able to reach this place even if they could cross the stones. And Leonardo will be able to teach him to use his powers.""Do you swear it?""Yes."Malik considered leaving without saying goodbye, but didn't want to risk Kadar running away to look for him.He hugged the small boy tightly like he may never get the chance. "Whatever happens, remember that I love you." He said and felt Kadar nod against his shoulder.When they pulled away, Kadar said in a quiet voice, "will you ever come back?"He shook his head. "No."Their home, as it so happens, was a not insignificant distance from Monteriggioni, but Leonardo could arrange for quicker travel arrangements."I know you don't like travelling by magic--"Malik interrupted him, irritated at the familiarity with which everyone spoke to him with. "It's fine. I just want to get this over with."Leonardo looked at him in concern, then looked at Altair whose face was an unreadable mask."We appreciate any help you can give us." Altair said. Malik snorted and tried not to think about what waas happening.They disappear inside Leonardo's workshop and almost immediately reappear it is inside a circle of blue stones in the forest.When the world rights itself Malik bends over and threw up.There was a human(-like) hand rubbing on his back and it makes him flinch even as his stomach heaves and tries to empty itself.When he was able to stand up straight again, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared. "Don't touch me." He said (and did not stop to consider the expression on Altair's face when he turned and stalked away).They left the circle of stones and eventually came to a small cottage. It was fenced in with a wild looking garden just outside it.There were faintly glowing stones set into all for corners of the fence and on either side of the gate they walked through.Malik was still glaring when they went inside where strange herbs hung from the ceiling and the blend of them left an unpleasantly aline smell in the air. As the door shut bdhind him, Malik reached up to undo the clasp on his cloak.He pulled the red cloak off and said. "I don't feel any different."Altair sighed, he was getting a fire started in the hearth using a device with glowing glyphs carved onto its bottom rim. It spat fire when Altair opened a small door on the side, lighting the hearth near instantly. "Leonardo says we'll have to burn it." He closed the small box and placed it back onto a high shelf. Then sat down on a pile of fur (they didn't even have a bed. That made Malik wrinkle his nose. How uncivilized). "Take off your clothes too."Malik did so with violence. "Shall I burn these too?" He sneered and the fact the way Altair nodded (without smugness or arrogance or gladness) made him angrier. He tossed all of it, the blood red cloak and all his clothes into the fire."There. Are you happy now?"Altair's jaw clenched and didn't answer, but gestured for Malik to come closer. He did (because he had promised, because from the moment he had thrown the cloak into the fire he had, in essence, began dying), but then stopped after a step. As the fire licked its way across the fabric, Malik became dizzy. He clutched his head just as Altair came to him, holding him up against his chest."Altair--my head. It--"He fell and Altair went with him, holding him securely while saying, "don't fight it. Malik, just close your eyes."And he did.
There was a wolf following him along the path. It pleaded with him to not go.
"Malik, you need to come with me. They're going to kill you at this rate. You need to--"
But he just ran and didn't listen. You couldn't believe in wolves. They always lied.
"Malik! I found you!" There was such relief in those words when a man with wild, golden eyes came out of the forest.
"Who are you?" Malik asked and took a step back. The man reached for him, but Malik hit him and ran.
It was a trap and Malik snarled at Robert De Sable, struggling between two forms but unable to achieve either as some sort of poison made its way through his body.
A small body ran into Robert's leg and grabbed onto his pant leg with a white knuckled grip. "Don't hurt him! Please!"
Robert gripped the child by his hair and Malik bared his teeth and snapped at air.
"That depends on you, little witch."
Kadar's eyes turned to him, blue and filled with tears, right before he reached out to touch the folded cloak that was presented to him.
There was a small child beyond the forest. Malik really shouldn't go past but even he could sense that this child was not only a witch but a strong one. "What is your name?" Malik asked from behind the safety of the stone line that separated the forest from the places where monsters dwelled.
"My name is Kadar."
"Well, I'm Malik." Then it was, "you should come back over to this side where it's safe."
"But the monsters might get me."
"There are no monsters on this side of the stones."
There was another body pressed against his back and teeth nipping teasingly at his nape. Altair smiled against the skin of his neck and said, "Malik, wake up."
Malik whimpered, curling up like it could distance him from the pain."Malik." A familair voice said, running a hand over his hair. "Malik, turn back. It'll be easier."His head was close to exploding, it felt so full, but the voice was soothing and a part of Malik thought, what nonesense was that? Transform? What----but he did know how, didn't he?
It wasn't a concious decision to go from two legs to four. He simply shifted because the trap had failed and their dinner was going to escape. As he did the world changed, sounds became sharper, his balance was different and smells became multifaceted. He could pick out the smell of fear, of fur and of colour, and he ran after the deer that was crashing through the trees with a growl--
Malik whined, pawing at the ground until a hand settled at the top of his head, stroking there."It's okay, Malik. I'm here."And the smells he could detect were so familiar and comforting that he turned his nose, burying it against the source of the smell and let himself sleep.Malik didn't know how long he stayed like that, laying around and dreaming (remembering). He thought he might have woken up once, to Altair sleeping along side him, also taking the form of a wolf. The familiar scent of the herbs they'd hung up to dry, the warmth of Altair's body at his side, rising and falling in time with his breathing had lulled Malik back into sleep.He had been dreaming again when he woke up again. In it he--
--was nine and chasing Altair around in the forest. Altair had learned to turn into his Other Shape a year ago and he took advantage of that to escape into a nearby tree which Malik could not climb without thumbs.
"No fair!" He put two paws on the trunk and snarled.
Altair laughed until Malik got fed up with him. He considered curling up under the tree, but that'd mean he lost and he was't going to lose! His scrabbling paws became longer and his claws shorter, and soon his fingers scraped painfully against the bark and Malik jerked back with a hiss before he realized that his hands were now--
--human again as he pushed himself up. Altair was cooking something over the hearth and even in this form, where smell was less powerful a sense, it still made his stomach growl loudly enough to catch Altair's attention.He smiled at Malik who was clutching his stomach and blushing. "Stop smiling at me." He said but crawled over to Altair and sat beside him. He was naked and completely unconcerned as he leaned against Altair's side. "Will it be ready soon?""Soon." Altair said and left the meat to cook over the fire. (It was rabbit, Malik breathed in, rubbed with rosemart and thyme.) He took one of Malik's hand in his and frowned guiltily at his forearm, still scarred from where he'd been scratched. "I'm sorry." For attacking him (and for tipping his claws in enough poison to force Malik's body to instinctively push all the toxins from his body, including the ones that dulled his eyes and nose).Malik pulled his hand back so they could lace their fingers together instead. "I didn't give you many options." He leaned in and kissed Altair on the corner of his mouth. "Thank you for coming for me."Altair turned his head to kiss him properly. Altair kissed him like he was hungry for it, and Malik pushed back against him, not to find escape but to be closer."Altair," Malik gasped when Altair pushed him down to the floor, teeth scraping against his neck, "the food--" Then, when it was clear his mate wasn't listening, cuffed Altair on the head lightly. "Stop that. You'll burn the food."Altair pushed himself onto his elbows and frowned at him. "I don't care about the food.""Well, I do." Malik said plainly. pushing Altair further back. "I'll make it up to you later."Altair allowed himself to be pushed back to sitting and Malik could imagine how his ears would be flat against his head in disapproval of his priorities."Fine."
|
10079579
|
Changing Shapes
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Rook Blonko, Ben Tennyson",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by CrystalHopeDragon",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00",
"words": "3,959",
"Additional Tags": "Anodite form, I couldn't resist",
"Relationship": "Ben/Rook",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "The Tennyson Family",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "ben 10 Omniverse, Ben 10",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Ben's POVIt was supposed to be just a regular mission; I needed it to be just a common mission. I'd been feeling antsy all day, like there was energy bubbling under my skin just waiting to rise to the surface. It was itchy and stretching and it HURT. I wanted something to blow it on, something that I could just run wild with and not think too much on. Since we had gotten back to Earth after the road trip it had been pretty slow, and the leftover energy from our space adventure hadn't helped keep me calm. Waking up this morning with an undercurrent of new agitation wasn't helping, so I was hoping this battle would help me blow it. And it was the Vreedle's! This battle was set up to be an all out brawl, more than enough Vreedle brothers for me to fight! What I wasn't expecting was the new weapons they were packing, or the Omnitrix not working at all, or Rook managing to get pinned by an angry Rhomboid desperate for his Ma's attention or a trigger happy Octagon near them... I was too far away, with no Omnitrix online, no Skurd or other backup, more anger and energy than I could handle, terrified I was about to loose one of the only people I could truly trust and cared about and...And then everything went pink.It felt like all the muscles in my body had finally relaxed, the energy under my skin dissipating slightly as if it had been scattered around me. Everything was a bizarre shade of pink afterwards but at least I didn't feel quite as built up. I felt relaxed, calm even, and everyone being blown back against the wall and Rook landing on his feet helped keep me that way. They were all giving me weird looks, but I honestly felt so much better I didn't care."Ben..." Rook mumbled out, staring at me in awe. I didn't know why, I was still confused over the blast that had knocked them back that seemed to come from my direction, but at Rook's call I decided to look down and see what warranted the looks. I saw purple; then I screamed.--- Rook's POVI was pinned, blaster pointed at me -regretting not making that will when Magister Tennyson recommended it-, Ben's Omnitrix malfunctioning and he himself too far away to help, and the situation looked dire indeed. I saw the blaster power up and clenched my eyes for the pain... but the only thing I felt was a burst of power force me against the wall. I instinctively landed on my feet, prototool in hand, ready to continue the fight. Then I looked at Ben, and everything in my being froze at the sight. He looked...gorgeous. Ben had always been attractive, that was obvious. For his species he was healthy, symmetrical, clear of skin, and well shaped. Females of his species and others had fawned over him the entirety of the time I had known him, and most likely long before. Still, I had forced myself to not take heed of it. He had never shown any direct interest in males and I did not want to make my appreciation for his appearance uncomfortable for him. He was my closest friend, and I valued that far more than any physical attraction. This though...this was awe inspiring.He was an Anodite, that was obvious. Like his cousins and grandmother before him he had awoken this form. His seemed less from practice and planning though and more from emotional distress (It 'heated my heart' to think that he awoke this form in a desire to save me), of which made sense as Ben had always been a more emotion driven being. The waves of pink were still emanating off of him from the energy blast that had forced us all against the wall, and he seemed far more relaxed then I had seen him in days. His hair -while still in the same shape- was now a glowing pink and more alight, while his skin had turned a slightly darker shade of purple than Gwen's. His eyes were pink as well, and we're slowly scanning us, remaining calm as the Vreedle's scattered in fear and I remained fixed by the sight."Ben..." I finally whispered, awed by this new form. It felt more...him, then any of his others ever had, maybe even more than his own human form. He looked strong and happy like this, even if he was far from his own favorite colors. The energy he always seemed ready to burst with was now literally emanating off of him, far more uncontrolled and wild than any Anodite I had ever seen, and it all just seemed...right. He looked down upon my mention of his name, seemed to notice what had happened, and promptly screamed. He floated up in the process, twisting in the air in an attempt to get a better look at himself, of which I personally was appreciating the view. His body looked like a simplified glowing mass of his human body, though lacking any clothes or visible genitals. It really was quite an ascetically pleasing sight none the less. "Ben, calm down." I finally spoke up as I walked towards him. There were other plumbers arriving by now - they could handle the Vreedle's, I had bigger concerns. "I'm-I'm an Anodite!" He said in awe, still turning in circles. "Yes, yes you are, and might I recommend calling Gwendolyn, or your grandmother?" I mention as I get closer, glad his surprise turned to excitement rather than anxiety."Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute! This is awesome!" He said as he did a little flip, flying slightly higher. He spun again with his legs straight forward and his arms to the sides, seeming to relish in his newfound weighlessness. "No wonder Gwen loves this so much!" He flew down close to me and circled around my sides at a sideways angle before settling on the ground before me, my heart pounding in surprise at his close proximity. "I wonder how she turns back though?""Which is why I recommended a phone all." I say with fond exasperation in my tone. His energy knows no bounds, which should be more worrying as he is now literally made of energy. For him though, it is no less worrying than his usual abilities, so I try not to dwell on his increasing array of power. "Right." He says with a small smile, grabbing his phone and wallet off the ground (where they fell when his clothes evaporated in the blast). I hear two rings and someone pick up. "Gwen? Yeah yeah, Gwendolyn. Quick question, how do you turn back from your Anodite form to your human one? Why do you THINK I'd be asking? Yes I'm okay, though I think the Vreedle's might be a bit scarred. Yes, Rook's fine too. Now at least." He sends a light glance my way and does what I can only approximate as an eye roll, before continuing on. "Getting him out of trouble was part of what made this kick in. Now how do I turn back?Okay, thanks.Yeah, I'll see you then, later." He hangs up and seems to focus (eyes clenched shut and face scrunched up in that adorable mannered he usually does when thinking strongly), before falling to the ground on his rear, human once more, and his clothes back on him. He glances down, around, and blinks in suprise. "Huh, it really is all imagination and focus. Cool." He glances back at me, "She's on her way. Said she'd get grandma too, if she can. That woman's harder to track than Cousin Lucy." I put my hand out to help him up and he grabs it appreciatively, a small smile on his face. My heart flutters again from both the smile and the contact, and I have to firmly remind myself that this is not the right person to feel such things for. I may have decided that Reyona and my relationship was doomed a while ago and carefully ended it (we had nothing in common but manners and upbringing), but that does not make my partner a viable relationship option now. So no, heart, no.The fact that he doesn't let go of my hand and just pulls me along behind him as he walks doesn't help, and I have to once again say no to my heart as it beats wildly in my chest in response. Ben's POVFor most people, having a life or death experience can lead to revelations about their life. For me, watching Rook have a life or death experience lead to one instead. That one being that I can't imagine my life without him, something that should probably be more worrying. The thought of loosing him was downright terrifying, and from the moment I managed to get some physical contact with him after the experience I've been having trouble letting go, something that is also worrying. Gwen showed up at the house two hours after I called her to us watching Sumo Slammers and still holding hands, for Peat's sake! I was sitting pretty close to him as well, and Rook's been blushing deep enough to see though his fur yet he hasn't made me move for some reason. Gwen quirks an eyebrow at the sight of us relaxed on the couch but doesn't comment, just stands with her hands on her hips. "Well, come on, show it." She says with a wave of her hand. I raise an eyebrow of my own but concede, closing my eyes to focus again. It feels like all the tension flows out of me again as I imagine the Anodite form I felt before, and the weightlessness returns. Rook's hand in my own tightens, but before I can worry about what that means I hear, "You little ass! It took me a year to transform properly, how did you figure it out in a day?!"I shrug. "It doesn't feel that different from any of my usual transformations, and I've got years of practice with those." "He also went into this form first before obtaining any other skills. This is literally the only portion of his Anodite powers he has any current control over. Unlike you he knows no spells or control skills, and seems to be running on pure power and creativity for attacks. To save me when he first changed all he did was discharge a large blast of mana in all directions." Rook responds beside me."And I didn't even do that on purpose. Heck, I didn't even know it was from me til afterwards!" I respond as I squeeze Rook's hand in thanks. Any extra help with an irate cousin is appreciated, especially when her pride is out.She sighed. "Fine, fine, I guess it makes sense. The wielder of the Omnitrix would feel more comfortable with a transformation than a shield spell for his first power. Still, don't overdo it, okay? You may be made of pure mana, but you don't know how to absorb more yet. Don't use up too much energy until you learn how to draw more in from the world around you, because currently you are just using your own calories and life force to supply your attacks.""Duly noted." I say with a grin. Also, have I been using Rook's sayings too much? "But that doesn't mean I can't practice at all, just that I gotta be careful, right?" She nods cautiously, obviously not liking this direction of thought. "So what was that shield spell again?"---Rook's POV3 hours, two large air-born explosions -and an annoyed Gwendolyn- later, their grandmother arrived. She was ecstatic. She had just obtained her third Anodite grandchild, and her first male one at that, at least from what my knowledge on her holds. She kept Ben up there for another 2 hours just showing him tricks and making sure his shield spell was actually a shield and not just a bomb. While they were at work on that I went inside to assist Mrs. Tennyson with the cooking. Earth recipes were relatively simple, if a bit bland for my tastes, but Ben seemed to enjoy most of them so it seemed like a fair balance. Not too flavorful for him and not too bland for me, so I usually used them for our shared meals if I wasn't within access to any amberogia. We were just fixing chili anyway, so it was a pretty simple bit of work while we waited for the family to settle down and come inside. ...Since when did I start internalizing them as my family as well?Before I had time to dwell on that, an exhausted Ben phased through the ceiling and landed in a chair, turning back as he did (I wondered briefly if he figured that out so quickly because of its similarities to his necrofriggian abilities). His grandma followed after, though Gwendolyn used the front door. Verdona stayed in her Anodite form while Gwen also returned to human, and as they sat down I handed out the bowls."Ooo, and he cooks! This one might be a keeper, Benny!" Verdona starts with, and to be honest as the first words I have ever had specifically directed at me from his grandmother I was a bit horrified. Of all the things for her to start with! "Grandma!" He splutters indignantly, blushing nearly as heavily as I was. I was also quite speechless though. I do not think I can get any more embarrassed. "O hush Benny, I won't bother the poor fellow too much. He seems fun to tease, but I don't want to break him. That seems to be your job." She said with a wink at us both, and I was wrong. I truly can get more embarrassed. What does that even mean?!"Come now Verdona, don't tease the poor boys too heavily. They're young, they'll learn to appreciate your jokes with time but not so much now. Now sit and eat. O, and proper introductions! Rook Blonko, this is Verdona Tennyson, though I'm sure you've heard plenty about her!" Ben's mother starts with as she also brings food over to the table and Ben goes to grab the entrees, obviously in an attempt to escape the discussion. I glare in his direction but respond to his grandmother anyway, his escapism being ignored for the moment. "It is a pleasure to meet you, I have heard many exciting and interesting stories about you ma'am." I say with the slight bow Ben greeted my elders with."O I've heard plenty about you too Rook dear, your next to all Ben talks about! Rook did this, Rook saved that, Rook taught me this, I swear! I haven't heard him prattle on about anything this badly since I asked him what sumo slammers was!" She said with a laugh, while my blush continued to deepen. Does he really discuss our adventures that much with his relations? It was quite flattering, to be honest."Grandma, please!" Ben whines while he re-enters the room, depositing the peanut butter sandwiches his mother made next to the chili pot. "We're just friends, don't make things awkward at dinner!""O come now dear I'm just messing with you. Besides, jokes aside, I am glad you found someone you care about, romantic or not. It takes a lot of emotion to drag out a full transformation from an untrained Anodite, experienced in form change or not. You must have really wanted to save this young man." She was smiling slightly, obviously pleased with the current turn of events. I may be embarrassed but I am thankful for her care. She would not have come so quickly or teased us so thoroughly if she was not emotionally invested in the situation. It is good to know Ben has so many people looking out for him."Of course I did, he's my partner! I'd do anything to keep him safe, just like I would for Gwen or Kevin!" He says with a huff, but seemed to calm down a bit at her kinder words. "Now now everyone, enough talk, time to eat. Best not let all this good food we made go to waste! You can discuss their emotional constipation later!" Sandra cuts in, not helping the embarrassment but at least getting us all focused on consuming our necessary daily calories. And this meal I have to admit does seem more nutritious yet delicious than Ben's preferred intake of chili - layering a batch of fries that is. ---Ben's POVDinner ends and grandma and Gwen finally head home. As great as it is to see them, spending time with grandma can get exhausting - for the body and the mind. And after today that wasn't quite the kind of excitement I was hoping for. At least I got my brawl though, even if it wasn't as physical as I'm used to.Mom shoos Rook out of the kitchen when he tries to help with the dishes and insists he spend some 'quality time' with me. I'm still not entirely sure how to feel about my family trying to set us up. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel! Their comments reminded me that romance is an option on my emotional scale, but I hadn't even thought of it before so it all seems a little sudden. I do know I feel pretty strongly for him though, a lot stronger than I do for most people, even friends. Heck, even Kevin has commented I'm a bit overprotective of Rook. Still, even if I did like him, what then?"Hey Rook, what are Revonnahgander customs on homosexuality?" Rook had barely sat down beside me -as he continued to give my mother a slightly disturbed look- when I asked, after which he promptly jumped."Um, nearly nonexistent to be honest. Our culture is so family based that few rarely tread outside of the heterosexual preference as it highly decreases their chance of creating biological offspring. When one does, our culture does not so much shun it as ignore it, treating it as just a slight inconvenience at most. It is more of an issue in a family environment than a social one, as ones father or mother may be disappointed from the lack of grandchildren. I doubt it would be an issue for my siblings or I though, as surely between the five of us someone will give them plentiful offspring." He said while scratching the back of his head. "Why do you ask?""Eh, just curious. With how much my family was teasing us I started wondering if it was even an option back home for you, to date a guy that is." And even if it is, that doesn't mean he'd be interested. He did mention his family wouldn't mind it though, so maybe he has been thinking of it too."They would probably have a larger issue if I dated an offworlder than if I dated a male. Mixed species couples are near nonexistent on Revonnah as a result of our more agriculture based society leading to a decreased amount of offworld interaction, and as a result they are still frowned upon. I have broken many other social barriers for my home though, so if needed I would not mind breaking one more." He says with a slight smile in my direction. Positive signs, good. Well, kinda."O? So you have been thinking of dating an 'offworlder'?" I ask with a grin, scooting closer and looking up towards him, eager for an answer. "Who's the lucky guy or gal?" He paused for a minute, searching my face. I started to deflate a bit, realizing I MIGHT have been a bit too forward with my curiosity. I wasn't even sure of how I felt about him yet, but I was already trying to get his answer on if he liked me? Kind of a dick move on my part. Then again, with how strongly I do feel right now, chances are if he responded positively I might just jump him anyway. That...was less worrying than it should be. Huh. Maybe I do like him a bit romantically.Whatever he was looking for he must have found it, because he just smiled a teasing smile before saying, "If you have yet to notice that bit of information I gave you more credit than was due, as your family has been teasing us relentlessly all afternoon." So he does like me? Um. Before I knew it my face was flushed and I was grinning like crazy. I had never liked a guy before, so I was surprised at how thrilled I am about him liking me back. I did end up jumping him, right on top of him, and kissing him square on the lips. I grinned real quick before jumping off back to my seat, just staring up at him waiting for a response. He blinked a few times himself, the blush plainly visible through his fur again. He smiled a bit and was about to say something when I heard a cat whistle from the other room."You go boys!" Mom shouted happily from the doorway to the kitchen, "On the upside Rook darling, reproduction isn't an issue for Ben anymore! He's an Anodite, they can breed with whatever they please, male or female.""Mom!" I shouted back. "Really! You just had to spoil the moment! And stop eavesdropping!" I could feel the blush on my neck, and I'm hoping that's not mana."Oops, sorry boys. Carry on, ignore me. I'm happy for you both though!" She says as she slips back into the kitchen, grinning on her way."Ugh, she just had to ruin the moment." I grumble as she vanishes, rubbing my face with my hands. I barely ever feel the need to be romantic, and when I do I prefer my focus uninterrupted."I still think it was quite nice. Also, it remains quite nice to see how supportive your family always is, no matter what life choices you make." Rook says with a smile, "I do quite love the enjoyable, energetic nature your family has. It is quite obvious where you got it from.""Yeah, yeah, you're right. Still, we were kinda in the middle of something." I say as I look up to him, "So, you do like me?""I think my proclamation was quite clear, as was your response. Though I think we should try actually dating before any further confessions happen. I do prefer my own cultures courtship methods, and the kissing is already skipping a few steps."I laugh awkwardly, rubbing the back of my head. "It's skipping a few here too, I just got excited. Besides, I never really follow rules anyway, as you love to point out. A date sounds...nice though. Movies?" "Fine, but if sumo slammers is playing, I get to bring my preferred snack. Those movies can be intolerable without consolation." He says, and I have to groan."O come on, they're awesome! I'll prove it too, come on! There's a sense of honor and strength in them, you just have to get over your exhaustion with them to see it!" I drag him off, and he's obviously not nearly as reluctant as he says, or he wouldn't be grinning like an idiot. Not that I can judge, I am too. Maybe this can work. I may never have thought of it, but it does feel awful right at the moment.
|
10067132
|
We Couldve Been
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Clint Barton, Phil Coulson",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Westgate (Harkpad)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00",
"words": "1,753",
"Additional Tags": "Angst, Barney Barton - Freeform, Clint Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort",
"Relationship": "Clint Barton/Phil Coulson",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Where Is He?",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“Where is he?” Phil asks quietly.Natasha takes a drink of her tea and continues looking through the latest National Geographic she’d brought to the cafeteria with her. “Dylan’s” is all she says, but it’s enough to make Phil sigh.“Are you home later?” Phil asks, and she nods without looking at him.He leaves her alone, and heads up to his office with a sinking feeling churning in his gut. He changes into jeans and a navy t-shirt and pulls on his blue canvas tennis shoes. They’re not purple Chuck Taylors like Clint tried to get him to buy (“matching is cool,” he’d argued), but they’re comfortable, and Phil won’t mind if they get beer spilled on them.Dylan’s is a bar about fifteen minutes from headquarters, just on the edge of a seedy neighborhood. They never go there together, but Phil knows that Clint goes on his own sometimes.Phil pushes through the rusty red door and the smell of stale beer and peanut shells assaults him as he steps inside. His eyes take a second to adjust to the dim, blue lights of the small bar, and he spots Clint at the far end of the room – the seat with a view of the whole place. He’s hunched over a glass, but he straightens a little when he sees Phil.Phil slides onto the cracked leather barstool and flags down the bartender. He doesn’t say anything until the bartender slides up with a crooked grin. He’s a cute twenty-something with dark hair and green eyes and a nose that looked like it had been broken a couple times. His voice is rough when he asks Phil what he wants.“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” Phil says, gesturing at Clint, who suddenly grins into his glass.The bartender raises an eyebrow and shrugs before pulling out a glass and filling it. Phil thanked him and took a drink, unsurprised to find that it was just a plain Coke.“How long have you been here?” he asks, turning to look at Clint.“About an hour.”Clint is wearing his favorite purple Chucks, and tight, faded blue jeans with a red t-shirt tucked under a black belt. He’s got a dark blue jeans jacket slung over the back of the chair. It’s his eyes that always get to Phil at times like this, though. They’re tired, downcast, and they always lose the glint that Clint in a good mood gives them. He looks like he’s been awake for days, even though Phil knows he slept a good eight hours last night.They sit quietly, sipping their Cokes, and Clint looks around the room. Phil watches him watch the men drinking after a long day’s work. They’re rugged men, most wearing flannel shirts and jeans tucked into work boots. There’s a construction company based close by, and the men have dirt of their faces and under their fingernails, and they’re drinking Miller Light and shelling peanuts as they laugh at a story someone is telling from work that day. Phil hears one guy cussing about his boss and another talking about a stray dog that wandered onto the job site.Phil watches Clint out of the corner of his eye as he looks around the room, listens as best he can, but mostly just stares at the men as if he’s waiting for them to do something.Phil’s known Clint a long time. They have been lovers for years, and Phil still knows there are moments where Clint goes somewhere Phil can’t follow. Phil has watched Clint sit huddled in the corner of their couch staring at the ceiling for hours, has watched him wander the streets alone at night when he can’t sleep, has watched him sit in the SHIELD hangar rafters, leaning his head against the metal rails and watching the mechanics work on the planes through their whole shift. Phil watches the thousand yard stare move into his eyes, stay for a long while, and then leave without a word, and he knows that if he waits, Clint will come back to him. Sometimes they talk about it, but just as often they don’t.“Today is Barney’s birthday,” Clint says suddenly. He says it quickly, as if he needs to spit the words out before they get stuck.Phil sits a little closer. “Really?” He must have known that at some point, when he was working on Clint’s file before he was recruited, but Clint never talks about Barney, and Phil’s forgotten that detail. Not that this detail explains why Clint is sitting in a grungy bar by himself, drinking soda.Clint stares at his Coke. “Yeah. He liked carrot cake, which I thought was weird, and the couple birthdays I remember with our parents I bitched about it endlessly to my mom. She let me help make the cake, but I wouldn’t eat it.”The noise in the bar disappeared from Phil’s ears. The lights and smells of the bar vanished, and the world was narrowed to Clint telling Phil about his family in a way he never has before. “Did you get him a present?” Phil asks.Clint laughs, a bitter sound, and looks up at Phil with a mirthless grin. “No one got presents, just the cake. It was fine – we wished, but we knew they couldn’t afford presents – but once I decided he should have a present somehow. I was,” he pauses and squints up at the ceiling like he’s trying to remember, “I think I was six. I borrowed some paper and colored pencils from school and spent an afternoon drawing his favorite comic book characters. I think I made about eight of them, including Cap’s shield, and gave them to him that night.”Phil smiles at the thought of a tiny towheaded Clint drawing all afternoon just to please his brother. “Did he like them?”Clint doesn’t answer, and Phil’s heart breaks a little. They sit quietly again.He sees Clint watch a young man about his height and just a few years older get up from a table and come to the bar near them to order a drink. His reddish hair is cut short and his eyes are full of laughter as he jokes with the bartender.Phil worries that Clint is going to bore a hole in the poor guy’s head with the heavy stare he’s levelling and feels a flutter of nerves in his belly at the obviousness of Clint’s attention. The guy gets his drink and heads back to his table without a look in their direction.“I come here every once in a while,” Clint reveals.“Yeah,” Phil answers. “I know, and it’s usually when you’re kind of down.”Clint blinks at him in surprise, like he didn’t know Phil noticed that sort of thing. He sets his hand down next to Phil’s so that they’re touching, and Phil wonders if he should steer them home, into a safer space to be close. But Clint gestures around the room in a sweeping motion and looks Phil in the eyes.“These men,” he starts, but he stops and has to swallow. He looks around the room again, so Phil follows his gaze, taking in the crowd of rough, tired-looking guys.“These men,” Clint tries again. “They could be Trickshot, Duquesne, Barney, my father – any one of ‘em. Rough people with nothing much to look forward to.” He stops and Phil desperately wants to pull him into a hug.Clint continues, “Hell, they could be me if I’d stayed with Carson’s too much longer. That guy who just got a beer? He could be Barney’s stunt double or something.” He pauses and adds, “His name’s Luke and he has a son he’s paying child support for.”Phil tries to keep the surprise off of his face, but he doesn’t think it works. “You know – “ he begins, but he’s not sure how to finish.“I miss Barney,” Clint says in a whisper, and he stares back at his Coke. “I don’t know where he is, or if he’s still alive, or if he has a wife and kids, or if he’s happy.” Now he looks back at Phil with a tired grin. “He doesn’t know that I’m happy.”“Clint,” Phil starts, but he’s not sure what to do with all of this.“I tried to look for him. Once I got my SHIELD clearance I tried to track him down, but his records stop when he got discharged from the ARMY. I talked to some of his unit buddies, but they didn’t have any information either. So I don’t know where he is, and sometimes, especially on his birthday, I like to come here and remind myself of the kind of men I used to know.”Phil sits, stunned by all of this. They’ve never talked about Barney. “I thought you didn’t like to talk about him,” he says, before he can stop himself.Clint nods. “I don’t. But his birthday came up and I realized that I wish even more that I could find him and see if he’s okay.” He pauses and looks at Phil again. .”I wish that I could buy him a beer and tell him how happy I am, too.” He leans into Phil’s shoulder. “Maybe introduce you two.”That’s when Phil makes a decision. He stands up, throws a ten dollar bill on the bar and pulls Clint to his feet. “Can we get out of here?” he asks, and Clint looks around the room again, takes one more drink of his soda, and nods.When they get home to their apartment, Phil pulls Clint in for a long, slow kiss. When they pull back, Clint’s eyes are shining again. Phil says, “I wanted to get you home to do that, and I want to cook for you and maybe we can celebrate Barney’s birthday by watching an old movie you guys liked when you were kids?”Clint presses his forehead to Phil’s shoulder and sighs heavily. “Okay. Okay, that sounds awesome.”When they settle themselves on the couch later, with “Alien” beginning on the screen in front of them, Phil pulls his work laptop out of his bag and opens it up. He goes to the program that lets him do a missing person’s search.“What are you doing?” Clint asks, staring at the computer.“Well,” Phil says gently. “My clearance is different than yours. I’ll bet I can get farther than an ARMY discharge.”
|
10051685
|
Child of Time
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Other(s), Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Harry Potter",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by Gemkat",
"chapters": "5/5",
"completed": "2009-09-10",
"published": "2009-08-04T00:00:00",
"words": "9,089",
"Additional Tags": "Slash sex, Mpreg, Threesome, Angst, Tragedy, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Harry Potter/Other(s), Remus Lupin/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin",
"Series": "Third Mate",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": "Multi, M/M",
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Chapter 1As Remus woke, it took him a moment to understand his surroundings. His nose was telling him that Sirius was here. His heart clenched with old pain at the thought of his long lost mate. A duet of groans forced Remus’ eyes open and he took stalk of the body’s covering his own. Harry was wrapped in Remus’ left arm, his head resting on Remus’ shoulder, as usual. It was the second body that caused his elation. Memories of yesterday filled his mind and he leaned down to breath in Sirius’ scent. Merlin he had missed his mate. He settled deeper into the bed to simply feel his mates around him, breathe their scent and enjoy their presence. The dark hair in his hands mesmerized the werewolf. Remus pulled a section of Sirius’ hair over to rest on Harry’s head in order to compare the different shades. Sirius’ hair was black; there was no brown in it. It was so black it seemed to absorb the light. In contrast Harry’s dark hair had multiple highlights, black with reds and browns in it that fitted together to give him a dark brown look. Sort of like those dot paintings. He let them sleep for an hour, but he was really worried about Sirius and wanted to get him checked out. He decided that Sirius’ health was more important then any charms on him and so he would call Poppy first. He grinned at their moan and groans as he shook them awake. Finally, he resorted to charming water on them to force them awake. Sputtering, Sirius glared up at him from the wet bed, “What was that for Moony? Have a little patience.” It was so good to have his Sirius back. Harry was wonderful and Remus wouldn’t give him up for the world but he’d never filled the whole that Sirius left. He ordered them to get dressed and set off downstairs to fire call Poppy. Throwing in the floo powder, he knelt down on his knees and waited for the flames to turn green before putting his head in. “Hogwarts Infirmary: Nurses’ office, Passcode: Episkey” He called out. Instantly he was met with an empty infirmary. Remus hated this place after hearing how many times Harry had been in there, added to his own experiences during his school years. He called out for Poppy and saw her rushing over to him. He made sure to reassure her that this wasn’t an emergency. “I’d like you to let us come over so you can check on someone for me. Do you have the time?” There was no point in going into the long explanation for why Sirius was coming. He could answer all her questions when they got there. She said, “of course” so Remus pulled out to see if Harry or Sirius were ready yet. They were sitting peacefully on the couch behind him. Sirius resting his head in Harry’s lap and Harry trailing his hands in Sirius’ hair. He smiled softly at them. What a picture they made. He hoped this was evidence that they could work out their odd relationship. “Poppy is ready for us now, let’s go.” The orders were coming more easily to him and Remus wondered how much it would change. If he took on the role of Alpha publicly it would shame both Sirius and Harry who were very strong men. He shook his head and decided that he couldn’t deal with that worry on top of worrying about what Poppy might find on Sirius. Harry went first hoping that his presence and questions could distract Poppy from Sirius’ arrival. This was bound to shock the woman. Proving all of their assumptions absurd, nurses were made of stronger stuff then that, Poppy immediately cast identity spells on Sirius. Finding that the man was who he appeared to be, she gathered him up in a tearful embrace. “Oh it’s so good to see you.” She pulled back and looked at him for a moment before letting him go and gesturing towards a bed. “Now then, let’s have a look see. What am I looking for anyway?” Remus told her about his fears that the unspeakables had done something to him and she nodded sagely and started casting diagnostic spells. Harry recognized a few of them from the war, he’d become a decent healer out of necessity. Poppy’s eyes widened when she cast a spell with purple light that Harry didn’t recognize. She cast it twice more before blinking and casting different ones. Harry knew better then to ask her what that was until she was done but he and Remus shared a nervous glance above Sirius’ head. She found something, and the not knowing was just as dreadful as it had always been. Eventually she slowed down and cast the purple spell again. “What is it?” Remus asked finally. “It appears that Sirius is pregnant.” She said slowly, enunciating every word. Harry sat down on a near by chair quickly and watched the other two in a daze. Sirius just said, “Huh..,” before he fainted backwards on the bed. Neither Remus nor Harry did anything other then watch him fall. Remus lifted up Sirius’ shirt, as if he could see the little child in there. Harry swallowed a few times before croaking out, “He couldn’t get pregnant in one day, can he?” Poppy let out a gasp of a laugh in shock but then resumed her professional manor. “No, our spells cannot detect anything younger then three weeks and the spell I cast identified the fetus as two months old. I could tell you the sex if you’d like.” Harry shook his head, he didn’t need anymore information right now. One thought kept repeating in his mind. ‘But I’m the Omega.’ He knew in some back part of his being that this was unfair of him. Sirius had been pregnant before he fell in the veil…………….He shot up and cried out. “Remus, he was pregnant in the veil.” The werewolf’s eyes glowed amber in fear and he shifted into full feral mode and crawled up onto the bed to curl around Sirius’ stomach. Harry noticed Poppy back up some. She had only a little experience with werewolves but she knew how dangerous it was to be presumed as a threat to a cub, especially the first born in a new pack. She, being a smart woman, had already figured out that the three men were a pack now. Harry turned to her and she recognized the expression. It was the same one he wore when he battled Voldemort, when he forced dreamless sleep down her throat after the battle when there were hundreds of wounded and she’d worked herself for two days. The same expression when he told them he was leaving to follow a feeling, which had led him to Remus. “What kind of spells can you cast on an unborn child?” his tone was cold and unrelenting and Poppy shivered, hearing it. “You can cast most healing spells on it and detection spells, identity spells, um…” She racked her brain trying to think of all of them. She wasn’t an expert on this. She could tell you all the diseases a child could catch, but not charms. “Can you cast something to tell us if there are any tracking spells on it or blocks or any blood magic has been cast?” His eyes widened, “Can I cast Hermione’s detection spell on it?” “Well, healing spells work with a person’s magic as you know, one has to trust the person healing them in order for the spell to take effect. This is why Mediwizards take an oath on their magic never to harm unless in defense, so people trust them and their magic lets them work. For the unborn, they must trust their parents to decide. The theory is that the child reacts to their parents magic and so if the parent trusts the person, the child will allow the healing magic through. This is the reason why pregnant people stay with one medi-wizard they trust for the whole pregnancy. Detection spells are non-invasive and don’t react with a person’s magic so the unborn reacts to them but is not damaged.”She read impatience in Harry’s eyes and jumped when Remus growled out, “Get on with it woman.” She noticed that Sirius had awoken sometime in her lesson and hurried up. She remembered Remus acting like this during the full moons if she angered him. “If Hermoine’s spell is non-invasive then it should work, and not harm it.” Harry nodded and cast the spell. She hadn’t because that spell took a great amount of magical strength to perform. Ms. Granger had created the spell using some jumps in arithmetical logic and obscure runes, but she couldn’t cast it. In fact only Harry and Remus could. She suspected that Remus had received a magical boost when he bonded with Harry which had added to the bond he already had from Sirius. If Sirius and Harry bonded, the cycle would shift and grow and the three would be the most powerful in Britain. The spell glowed fast colors and Poppy didn’t understand them but whatever they meant caused Harry to cry out in rage and Remus’ wolf to rise so high that his teeth sharpened and nails lengthen into claws. Sirius was obviously as clueless as she was and bravely ventured the question she was too much a hufflepuff to ask. “What did it say?” he whispered, holding one hand protectively on his stomach and reaching out to Harry. Poppy was glad that the three of them were accepting of the child. They had so many issues to work out what with Sirius coming back from the dead. “They have it suppressed. They’re siphoning it’s magic and have a tracer on it along with other blocks and things. I can probably dispel a lot of them and take off the blocks and tracers but I can’t stop the siphon. I don’t know how. I’ve never seen this spell before. If what I understand about male pregnancy's' is true then siphoning off that magic will slowly kill it. We have to stop it fast. ” Remus growled out loud and threw the bed next to them into the wall on the other side of the infirmary in a feat of super human strength. Poppy rushed over to hide behind Harry. She was a strong woman but she was no fool. “Can we call Proffessor Flitwick?” Sirius asked. Poppy answered for Harry, needing to feel like she was contributing. “I can call both Filius and Minerva if you’d like.” Harry nodded at her so she walked away a little bit to call a house elf and give the three men some privacy. They huddled together on the bed and whispered reassurances to each other. Poppy didn’t understand who could have done this to the child. Sirius was gone for 10 years and could have been anywhere with anyone, although from their comments she thought he was in the veil the whole time and that the unspeakables were behind it. Either that, or he’d come out of the veil and they’d kept him for 10 years. No, she shook her head; the unborn child disproved that theory. She could only wait and hope that her two colleges would be able to help them. She didn’t want to think of the ministry’s reaction when Remus killed all the unspeakables other wise. She hoped they could find a way to save the child.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 2Sirius was having a moral dilemma. He'd never wanted to carry a child. He just wasn't the mother type..hell he wasn't the father type. He was pregnant, there was a life growing...well dying, inside of him and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. He knew Harry and Remus were beating themselves up for not protecting it, but Sirius had only known about the kid for a few hours. He didn't feel anything for it. Like it was a story he read in the paper "Aww a kid died, that's too bad".Minerva cast another spell on him and Sirius could feel the magic prickling inside him.She sighed. So far they had been able to determine that the unknown spell on him was siphoning off the magic that would create the womb inside him. Without that, the child would die. Harry had said that if they destroyed the object containing the siphoned magic, that the child would be fine. How were they supposed to get this object?Sirius wondered if he should be more upset. He was a man, so he didn't have the mothering instinct. He was furious that someone had dared to cast spells on him without his knowledge, but he didn't feel like the child was alive yet. He couldn't help it.He wanted to get back at the ministry and the only way he knew to do that was by using the public. If the ministry authorized the murder of an unborn, and the public knew about it, then they would pulverize them. Similarly if they didn't authorize it, then the unspeakables were out of the ministry's control and the minister would eradicate them. Perfect either way."Can you make a record of the spells and things before you go?"Harry and Remus turned to him and Sirius flinched at the looks he got.Harry, unable to really process what Sirius had said asked him to repeat it. "Well we're going to need proof that they did this to us if were to get our revenge.""How can you just give up?" Harry yelled at him. Sirius was impressed; it was usually he who was yelling outrageously. Remus interrupted their budding argument. "I understand Sirius, you've only known about it for a little over an hour. I have creature in me so I feel for it more then you and Harry has always wanted a family." Remus pulled Harry into his arms and held him there forcefully, preventing his retreat. Sirius saw Poppy, Filius, and Minerva leave to give them privacy."Harry, you cannot expect him to develop feelings this quick." Sirius was insulted by the insinuation, he wasn't sure what it was but he knew it was insulting. "Oi!"Remus shook his head, "Harry you don't have feelings for it either. It’s just an idea at this point."Harry pulled out of his arms enough to look at them, "yea, you’re right. Sorry Sirius." Sirius shrugged, it wasn't that big of a deal."I just.." Harry broke off and Remus pulled him up on the bed so Sirius could comfort him too. Harry ended up with his head on Sirius' stomach with the other two pressed on top of him.Sirius could hear him whisper, "I'm sorry little one." Over and over into his stomach. He wasn't good with these feeling things but he knew it was a way of saying goodbye. There just wasn't a way to help their child."We'll be able to have more Harry." He tried to comfort him the only way he knew how. Harry nodded.They spent a few minutes just saying goodbye.Eventually Harry pulled out of their arms and stood up, his back to them. Slowly he drew himself up, as though he was gathering strength as he straitened. Remus recognized it from the war and grew fearful. He may play at Alpha but Harry had really commanded armies in the war."They've taken a lot from me over the years, but they will pay for taking our child." A chill settled on Sirius and Remus. Harry's eyes held a gleam they'd never seen before."In Hogwarts, the hat wanted to place me in Slytherin but I said no. Its time I used some of that cunning."He left to find the others and Sirius turned to look at Remus. "But it’s not his kid." Remus chucked, some things never changed."We are a pack now, any child we have will be the child of all of us. Understand?" He smiled at his first mate. He was used to his insensitivity, and prison had not really helped with teaching him social customs."So he's going to pretend it’s his kid too?""No Sirius, it is his kid. We would all be fathers." Sirius nodded, but his confused expression didn't leave. Remus chuckled again. It was nice to have something to laugh about.Harry returned with Filius, Minerva, and Poppy and the Headmistress pulled out some parchment to record the spells. Poppy cast her spells again and Remus could see their results appear on the parchment. It was a nifty charm. He wondered why it wasn't used instead of Quick Quills.When all the spells had been recast and recorded Remus asked Harry what he had planned next."Well I was thinking. As reputable as Poppy is, I'm not sure her findings will stand up in court. I'm thinking we take Sirius back to St. Mungo's" Sirius groaned. “It shouldn't take very long, I may not be as popular with the administration as I once was, but my fame is still rather annoying." He winked at his mates."Then I'd like to make a press conference. Minierva could you set that up for me?" She nodded and asked for a time and place. "I want it to be public, how about in three hours at the steps of Gringotts. I'll send an owl to the goblins." They nodded and Poppy left to get an owl for Harry."What are you going to say Harry?" Sirius asked him. "You'll have to see." Harry winked again and wrote his letter to the goblins.
REVIEW and be baptised...or something like that.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 3
Harry looked at him imploringly and Remus frowned. "You want to tell everyone?"Harry nodded. "Yes. Listen, everyone knows you and I are mates, and there are more then a few who knew you and Sirius were. If we try and hide it then it will cause a bad scandal instead of the good scandal I want to cause."Sirius threw up his arms in frustration, "I just don't get it. Explain it again?"Harry sighed, they just weren't Slytherin and couldn't' understand the subtleties of his plan. He'd have to Griffendorize it for them, like he'd had to for Ron. "Alright. I want to take Sirius to the hospital. I want you, Remus, to be angry and afraid claiming that there is something wrong with him; like you did when he got here, not a day ago." Remus nodded and waited for the rest of the explanation. He understood most of it, but there were little subtleties he didn't get. "Sirius you are going to claim loudly for everyone to hear that you remember being taken from the veil by Unspeakables." "But I don't" Sirius shouted.Harry sighed again; he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "It’s like a prank. We're going to prank the whole world, everyone, and only the three of us are in on it." At the word prank Sirius brightened and Remus smirked. Mentally Harry rolled his eyes; Sirius hadn't been there during the war and so hadn't learned to use his skills for anything but pranking."Okay so pretend for me Sirius."Sirius hobbled around the room, holding his side as if he was in pain. "Oh, you have to help me. They did something to me. They kidnapped me." He rushed over to Remus and shook him by the shoulders. Harry saw amber flow into his eyes and wondered how much their relationship was changing. "You have to avenge me Moony!" Remus chuckled and played along, "Avenge you from whom?" "Those fucken unspeakables! They did something to me Remus!"Harry, laughing, said, "Alright, just like that..I guess. I'm going to demand that they identify you and any spells on you for the record. Protocol says they have to record them anyway but if we get them to notarize a copy then the ministry can't cover it up later." Remus and Sirius stopped laughing and remembered that this plan was serious. Harry had reminded them who they were up against."What then?" Remus asked when Harry's attention drifted off. If someone didn't ask then Harry would just assume he'd said it all and move on to enacting the plan. It had happened many a time during the war."Right. That should only take a short while I give it 10 minutes to get us a doctor as I will be claiming it is an emergency. then 30 minutes to cast their spells. Another 30 for them to get a second opinion and 45 for us to get out of their again. Then we're going to have the press conference and tell the world what happened.Remus during the press conference, I'll try and handle the questions but they're bound to ask you two some. I want you to pull Alpha on Sirius and not let him answer all of them, just one or two.""Why?" Sirius asked, his head tilted."Because I want them to remember that we are mated to a creature. I'm going to put that in the speech. That they thought they could get away with it because of Remus." Remus rolled his eyes; plans among plans. His Omega was trying to take on both the Department of Mysteries and the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at once.Sirius pulled up his shirt and spoke solemnly into his stomach, "Hear that little one. Your papa is going to tear apart the ministry for you. You'll see."Remus and Harry tear’d up at the reminder of what this was for. Harry cleared his throat and the first words he spoke were tight and high. "Right. I need a journalist I can trust. Do either of you know one?"Sirius cocked his head and said, "There was that bloke a year under us what was his name Rem?""Cankleford?" Remus asked."Yea him. Last I knew he was working for the Weekly Oracle. He still there?"Remus shook his head and his eyes widened, "No, he's at the Daily Prophet now. He gets everything Rita doesn't want." Harry nodded. “Lets owl him.”The three of them headed up to the owlery.They met with Cankleford and promised him an exclusive interview after the press conference if he wrote a sympathetic piece. Harry explained that they wanted the public outraged at the ministry for spelling them and for thinking they could get away with it because of Remus' lycanthropy.Cankleford told them his uncle was a vampire and promised to help them out.St. Mungo's went just as Harry wanted it to. The crowds parted at Sirius' cries and all the Nurses and Doctors had done exactly what Harry said they'd do.They'd been horrified to find out that something was killing their child. All children were sacred to Wizards. Most families only had one or two children in the whole of their long lives. The Weesleys were an oddity of nature in the Wizarding world.2 hours and 57 minutes from walking in to St. Mungo's, Harry apparated them to the press conference; signed and notarized list of spells in hand. He asked Remus to make copies.Harry walked up to the podium that McGonagall had set up and raised his arms for silence. He was rather shocked at the turn out. Rita was there, as was Crankleford, and a writer for the Quibbler. He could just imagine how that would turn out. There were also journalists from the popular teen magazines and a reporter from the Wizarding Wireless with a recording device and a few international journalists.Harry wiped his hands on his pants and checked to see were Remus and Sirius were. Remus was holding Sirius in his arms and the dark haired man was milking it for all his worth. Sirius looked like he was about to cry. Harry hoped Sirius didn't wink at him."Thank you for coming." Harry started. He was interrupted by Hermione who showed up late."I hope you haven't called us all out here to talk more about your crazy theories." Harry tried not to snarl at her. His ex-friend had been invaluable in the war for her invented spells. After the war she had pressured him to go into politics and when he refused she's slammed him in the press until she could stand on her own. She was currently the Undersecretary to Minister Shacklebolt, who was actually Harry and Remus's friend, even if she wasn't anymore. Hermione was just too ambitious. She had made a fortune inventing spells and she had pushed for patent laws. Thankfully Harry and Remus were grandfathered in and so knew all her spells without having to pay every time they taught someone them."Ms. Granger. If you would wait I'll tell you why I asked you all to come." He didn't remember inviting her though."Yesterday, My mate Remus and I were asked to come to St. Mungo's. Once there we were shocked to find my Godfather on a bed." Harry noticed Hermione's eyes widen and then soften in happiness and sympathy. He smiled at her. He was glad that not all the feelings they'd shared had disappeared."Sirius Black, who as you know fell through the veil almost 10 years ago, was back." Here Sirius waved with a grimace and Harry nearly winced. Sirius's overacting was going to get them caught. "He had no memory of his time in the veil and no knowledge of what happened afterwards. We took him back to our house. I'm going to tell you that the three of us have decided to form a pack, as Sirius was Remus's mate before he fell." There were gasps at this and Rita started whispering furiously into her quill. "I'll answer your questions later. That's not why I called you here. Only a short while later, Sirius started having flashes of memory. He remembered coming out of the veil and being imprisoned by people in purple robes. "Harry knew this was the official uniform for unspeakables, even though he wasn't supposed to. Hermione gasped and looked at them in pity mingled with rage. Harry recognized the look from when she had been obsessed with SPEW. Glee filled him; he hadn't expected Hermione to be on their side. "He said they cast spells on him and did tests on him. From what we were able to gather, he was held by them for some time before turned over the St. Mungo's. Remus, insisted we take him to St. Mungo's to get him checked out and what we found." Harry paused and took a shaky breath he didn't have to fake. His pain at the eminent loss of their child wasn’t false."Well it's horrible." He gestured for Remus to hand out the list of spells. "That is a list of spells they had on him. Tracking, containment, and others." Hermione teared up when she saw it and Harry nodded at her. "We found out that Sirius is pregnant and that there is a spell on him that is siphoning the magic that is meant to sustain the womb, and killing our child." Harry opened his arms to hold both Remus and Sirius; he saw several flashes and knew that would be the picture on the front page. "We are asking, no, begging anyone with knowledge of how to counter this spell to come forward. We are offering a 500,000 Galleon reward to anyone who can save our child."Harry let Remus pull him away as his throat had closed off with tears."We'll answer any questions you have now." Remus’ voice was thick and he cleared it to answer their questions."Yes, we care very much about the child.""No, neither of us knew about it. It was a troubling time.""Yes, I mean to say that we believe Sirius was pregnant when he fell through the veil."Cankelford came through for them and asked, "Why do you believe they thought they could do this to you?"Harry answered knowing that it would mean more coming from him. "We think that because Remus is a werewolf, the Department of Mysteries thought no one would care. I ask you. If they think they can kill babies in the womb just because they have lycan parents, then who is next. Will they cull off those with blond hair? or those with less magic then others? I say its time the unspeakables spoke. Its time some one held them accountable."By this time there was a sizable audience. People filled every inch of spare space from Gringotts steps as far as Harry could see. They all cheered and many of them wiped tears from their eyes. Hermione slowly walked up to them as the crowd dispersed."I'm sorry Harry. I'd like to help." Harry smiled softly at her. "You are a brilliant witch, I always knew that. I know you can help us if you put your mind to it." Hermione nodded decisively and walked off, already mumbling under her breath about the different books she could research in.Harry apparated them back to their bed room and the three of them cuddled for a while.Sirius and Remus held Harry while he sobbed into them. Harry was the most effected by what was happening, and his mates sought to comfort him. Sirius pulled Harry up for a kiss and Harry fell into it.Remus pulled off Harry's shirt and nuzzled and kissed the skin on his back and neck. Harry sighed into Sirius mouth. "Make me forget, please, just for a while."Remus and Sirius smiled softly at each other before turning their attention on their youngest mate.Harry let the pleasure soak through him, wiping away the pain and sorrow. Remus was kissing him deeply and Sirius had pulled his pants off and was driving him wild with is tongue. Sirius was nibbling and sucking the skin on his stomach and his inner thighs completely bypassing his hard and leaking cock. Harry mewled and begged as well as he could with Remus sucking his brain out through his tongue.Sirius chuckled and poured some lube on his fingers. He waited until Remus pinched one of Harry's nipples before slipping a finger into Harry's sphincter. Harry arched up and cried out into Remus's mouth."That's it lovely." Remus growled at him, "Let us hear you." He latched on to Harry's neck and Sirius added another finger. He bent down to take Harry's cock into his mouth and pushed on the bundle of nerves inside him. Harry screamed out and Sirius was forced to release his cock or Harry would cum to soon. "How do you want us?" Sirius asked. He was asking either Remus or Harry, who ever answered.Harry gasped out, "In me....both of you." Sirius gasped and looked up while Remus moaned long and low.He switched places with Sirius and told the blue eyed wizard that Harry would need to be relaxed. While Sirius got to work nibbling on Harry's neck and chest and fisting his cock, Remus lubed up his whole hand and arm. He'd never done this with Harry, but he'd wanted to and read about it.He pushed two fingers into Harry and stroked his insides making sure to only hit his prostate a few times. He slipped a third finger in and Harry started thrusting back on him. "Sirius, hold him down. I want him to just take it." they both grinned while Harry whimpered.After making sure Harry was stretched, Remus pushed in his pinky finger. He'd read that it was important to take your time, that if you rushed it could harm your partner. He stretched out his fingers and pumped Harry. His mate looked so amazing stretched out around his fingers he had to lean down and taste it. As soon as Remus' tongue touched his rim, Harry shouted out his release.Remus looked up to check and makes sure Harry was alright. He was staring, eyes wide open and glazed over, at the ceiling and Sirius was cleaning his cum from his stomach and chest, dipping his fingers into it and licking it off. Sirius leaned over to give Remus a taste and they kissed until Harry moaned again.Remus winked at Sirius and his second mate stretched out next to Harry and ran his hands along his skin. Remus grinned when he noticed that Harry's erection was reawakening.He deemed Harry stretched and so he slipped his thumb in him.Harry's eyes flew open when he felt it. It hurt, oh it hurt. He whimpered and Sirius shushed him and licked up his tears. Remus poured more lube on his hand and rubbed his stomach. Harry tried to relax his muscles. He slipped more in and Harry thought he was going to break apart. He'd never felt so full. He cried out when the whole fist popped in and he closed tight around the wrist.Once it was in though, Remus could pad all his fingers along the prostate and Harry was overwhelmed with pleasure. He found the bundle of nerves and pinched it. His eyes widened at Harry's ear piercing scream. "Are you alright Harry?" He asked. Harry gasped out "Yea..fu...Rem...guh..again." Remus chuckled and pinched again softer. Harry's reactions were like electricity to both his and Sirius's cock. Sirius thrust a few times on the bed to relieve some pressure and Remus used his free hand to press against his other mate. He didn't want to leave him out. Sirius cursed and thrust into his hand.Sirius had to take a look, he couldn't not. Remus pushed his fist into Harry's hole a few more times and Sirius whimpered at the sight of Harry's rim stretched around Remus's arm. Slowly Remus pulled his arm out and Harry pleaded at the loss.Remus shushed him and picked him up and turned him over. Sirius lay down in the space Harry vacated and Remus settled Harry down on his hard cock. "Oh...Sirius." Harry called out when Sirius thrust into him. "Oh...please..not enough..more." Remus chuckled when Sirius looked ruffled and placated him. "He'd just had my whole fist in him Siri. One cock, even one as perfect as yours isn't going to be enough." Harry nodded emphatically and begged Remus to fill him.Both men growled at Harry's pleading. Remus bent him over Sirius and used two fingers to make sure Harry was stretched enough. Harry ground down on them and Sirius cried out. Remus pulled his fingers out and lined up his phallus to Harry's hole.He pushed in slowly, forcing Moony back. Feeling both his mates at once was almost more then the wolf could stand. Harry moaned at the pain and pleasure as it over whelmed him, and tears fell down his face. Once in, Remus paused to let all of them catch their breaths. Sirius kissed Harry softly and wiped away his tears. "So full...Love you Siri, Remy." Sirius and Remus whispered back their love and kissed the skin they could reach.When the pain receded somewhat Harry thrust back on the cocks filling him. He took heart at their groans but it hurt him to move on them. "please move." he begged them and they complied. Harry's mind faded and all he could feel was pleasure. They were thrusting into him at counter point; both battering his prostate unrelentingly. Harry couldn't take it very long and he arched against Remus as he came.His mates couldn't take the tightening of his muscles and Harry moaned at feeling two cocks filling him with cum. Remus pulled out of him and Harry off of Sirius and lay Harry between them. Harry fell asleep wrapped safely in his mates’ arms.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 4. The banging and cursing that signified someone’s unsuccessful entry from the floo woke Harry from his deep sleep the next morning. His body was to sore to really move but in his sleepy state he determined that who ever it was, must have had his emergency floo password, or the wards would have prevented them entry.
The curses gained in violence as the person searched the house. When steps sounded on the stairs both Sirius and Remus had been roused from their sleep as well.
Harry debated pulling up the sheet to cover their naked and cum covered body’s but decided he was to tired.
The door slammed open, causing Sirius to jerk slightly and the three lovers watched in bemusement as a barely dressed and crazy haired Hermione rushed in, shouting out half formed sentences and theories.
Confused Sirius watched her pace while Harry stifled his chuckles. This was the girl he’d gone to school with, the girl he missed. Remus, the most awake of the three, simply cleared his throat and waited for her to realize they were all naked.
“And that’s why I think this will work!” she turned, elated to see her enraptured audience’s reactions and froze. Remus chuckled at her wide eyes and gaping mouth.
“You’re..OH..well…I’ll uh just…OH!” She ran out of the room at full speed blushing fiercely at their deep laughter.
They stumbled out of bed and helped each other get dressed amongst kisses. What ever she found was bound to be life changing and the wanted to remember the closeness they felt last night.
They found her in the kitchen, still blushing over a cup of tea. Harry held up a hand to stave off her apologies and fixed them all tea to their preferred specifications. Extra sugar for Sirius, black for Remus and a dollop of milk for himself.
They sat down and sighed over their drinks, letting the heat sear their throats and clam their nerves. Finally Remus nodded to a bouncing Hermione. She immediately launched into a lecture.
“Back in the days of ancient Greece, wizards were numbered in the hundreds, and most of those were male. There just weren’t enough women to propagate the species, so Plato and Aristotle researched and found a way to make men fertile. They perfected this spell and spent the rest of their days traveling around the world, casting it on everyone. Now men and women can both carry children, as long as there isn’t extenuating circumstances.” She sent an apologetic glance at Remus, as though he hadn’t known all this.
“Get on with it.” Sirius grumbled. He was out of school now, he didn’t want another history lecture.
Hermione bristled, but carried on none the less. “How much to you know about the Plague of Justinius?”
Harry shook his head while Sirius stifled a groan when Remus answered contemplatively. “It was a plague that ravaged the Empire of Constantinople in the early 6th century.”
Hermione nodded, “Right. It hit both the muggle and magical worlds as neither had any organized sewage system. Wizards just banished their waste to the muggle part, thinking themselves truly separate. Unfortunately, the mosquito’s didn’t know how much better Wizards are.” She quipped.
“Many wizards and witches died, a great many of them pregnant wizards. The fetus was able to live on for a few days inside their dead parent, since their magic protected them from the disease, but they died to soon after. Now Corvus was a brilliant wizard who’s pregnant husband caught the plague. As his husband suffered, Corvus researched, and he was able to adapt a spell used on livestock to humans. He transferred the child from his dead husband to himself, and the child survived.”
Hope boomed in Harry’s eyes and the three of them leaned forward to listen closer.
“keep in mind that, this spell is meant to transfer the fetus out of a dead wizard.”
Their heads dropped slightly and Hermione hurried on.
“I think that I’ve found a way to simulate death long enough to transfer the child but not kill Sirius. That was the easy part. it’s a muggle thing but I’m sure that will work. The problem is transferring the child without transferring the siphon. But I think I have it now. You see There’s a professor at the university I looked into taking a few classes at who is working on an artificial womb. It’s quite fascinating really….”
Harry, used to her rambling on to intellectual study at inopportune moments, called her name sharply to get her back on track.
“Oh right, anyway I think that I can do it. It’s going to be based on the theory used in port keys. When you are touching a portkey everything that you are touching is also transported, except you are standing on the ground, and that earth isn’t transported. Portkeys lock on to a wizards individual magic, identified through what ever part of skin is touching the portkey and transports that. You’re clothes are within your individual aura and travel with you but the earth has its own magical identity and the portkey can differentiate. I think, if I can get a sample of the magic of the siphon, we can shift that out and transfer only the baby.”
Harry stood up in exuberant joy while Remus collapsed in relief. Hermione pressed on determined to get out the warnings.
“The siphon will still be there so Sirius will not be able to get pregnant again or we’ll have to do it all over again.”
Sirius shook his head, expressionlessly, “I didn’t ever want to be a mother in the first place.” Harry blinked at him, some of his joy dimming.
“There are a few conditions.” She warned.
“There always are..” Sirius grumbled while Harry sat down again.
She ignored him, “The fetus must trust the spell caster as this is very invasive magic. They will also have to trust the new ‘mother’. For that to happen, You will need to pick a new mother you trust explicitly as the baby will depend on you to make the decision.” She told Sirius who didn’t respond.
They sat in silence for a moment, digesting and Hermione decided to give them some time to discuss among themselves. She headed out saying that the spell would need to be cast before the second trimester began in a week. She would be back tomorrow.
Harry watched Sirius as he stared up at the ceiling. He wanted to volunteer to be the new mother but wasn’t sure if Sirius trusted him. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if his godfather and new lover didn’t. He got up to refill his tea and let Remus and Sirius talk.
Remus watched Harry leave with a heavy heart. If it was possible, he’d volunteer to carry the child, but his lycanthropy prevented it. His womb had been the first thing the curse took. No werewolves ever carried children.
“Sirius love. Do you have any idea of who you trust enough to perform the spell?”
Sirius nodded, a twisted smile on his face. “Yea love. I would say you but you’ve never cast anything like this. Poppy can do it.”
Remus nodded, expecting nothing less. He wouldn’t trust the dog animagus with anything like this either. It wasn’t their area of expertise.
Harry retuned and set a new cup in front of his mates before leaning back to wait. Surely he didn’t need to tell Sirius he was willing to carry the baby.
And indeed he wasn’t. Sirius was well aware his young lover was shaking with nerves, and the reason why. Never let it be said that Sirius never thought anything through, just infrequently. Currently he was trying to decide if he trusted Harry. Sometimes he caught himself mentally thinking Harry was still 15, or like James. Harry was nothing like James was, which was fortunate. Sirius didn’t’ think he could handle a lover that acted like he himself did. Sirius trusted Remus to be a good parent, but the wolf didn’t have a womb. It was something that Sirius had lamented back before….
Ultimately he decided that all this thinking was unnecessary. He wanted the baby out, he wasn’t cut out to be a mother, didn‘t want to stop drinking or eating fish or any of the other things he‘d have to give up. Anyone was a better mother then he would be. All this thinking was just making him nervous.
“So,” He leaned forward and the chair thanked as the legs hit the floor hard, jolting his mates from their thoughts. “When are we going to do this Harry.”
The relieved smile made Sirius’ heart skip a beat.
Hermione squealed when they told her the next day, before setting down to do some hard planning. This would still be dangerous. Sirius could die, or the spells could fail. There was a chance that both Sirius and Harry could be rendered sterile from this.
While Remus, Hermione, Poppy, and Hanna Brown, Poppy’s apprentice, studied and prepared for the procedure, Harry and Sirius focused on the ministry.
Their speech caused an uproar and Minister Shacklebolt succumbed to the pressure, though he didn’t fight to hard. He called for a review of all the projects and files the Unspeakables had rendered to dangerous for the public. Shacklebolt contacted individuals from all parties to form a mostly neutral review board. Harry and Sirius were unable to be apart of it, but Neville and Dean as well as Hermione were. The board signed a confidentiality agreement that prevented them from talking about the cases that were ruled legitimately to dangerous for the public.
Along with Shacklebolt, Neville, Dean Thomas, and Hermione; Amelia Bones, and a variety of purebloods, mugglebornes, halfbloods, and all in between were asked to join. The papers kept up a running commentary of their stances on politics and blood purity, as well as their past. It was truly a neutral board.
Just before Harry and Sirius underwent the procedure, the ruling was publicized. About ¾ of the projects were released, the other ¼ ruled to dangerous. Harry suspected it would take years to unravel all the cases. Though Hermione was positively buzzing with possibilities.
The Unspeakables were not disbanded, though their identities were revealed. Shacklebolt promised new checks on their power and formulated a permanent review board out of the temporary one to assist in this.
Durring all of this, other changes were also made. The ministry called for the other victims of the Unspeakables to come forth and actually held the responsible parties..well…responsible.
They also put forth legislature leading to better treatment for magical creatures and half-breeds like Hagrid. There might have been more opposition to this but it was swallowed by the Unspeakable scandal.
Subtly, Shacklebolt added another section to the Wizengomet, one with a seat for all Magical beings: werewolves, vampires, goblins, gnomes, dwarves, veela, merpeople, and Giants. Some how this, and the seats open to Mugglebornes was also pushed under the scandal. With these new seats the magical beings had a surprising amount of power. There weren’t enough to outvote the pure-bloods or the Mugglebornes, but where those two parties disagreed, they had the controlling vote. Surprisingly they didn’t side with the Mugglebornes that often.
Shacklebolt held a press conference that Remus went to and relayed back to a resting Harry and Sirius. In it he informed the public that he was going to have a review of all legislature added to the original charter since the ministry’s inception to be voted on by this new governing body and weigh it against the original charter.
Just after Harry and Sirius were put into stasis for the procedure, Shacklebolt himself arrived with the siphoning object.
well here it is. I have counted the votes and the result with be in the next chapter, the epilogue.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Epilogue
1 second old.Remus and Sirius grunted under the tight grip of Harry’s hands as he bore down. “I’m so glad this isn‘t me.”“SHUT THE FUCK UP SIRIUS, YOU MOTHER FUCKER AHHH.” Sirius grunted under the increased pressure and Remus tried not to chuckle. “Don’t you laugh Remus, this is your fault too.” Harry panted after the contraction passed. Remus helped Harry take a drink and tried to look inquiring. “Don’t give me that look, wolf. You could have chosen to leave it in Sirius.” Sirius held up his unencumbered hand, “Hey you were the one who wanted it.” Harry’s retort was prevented as he was hit by another contraction.
1 ½ years old.
“Temper! Temperence Black!!” Harry shouted as he ran through the house. His panicked cries alerted Sirius as he arrived home from his work at the ministry. Harry barreled into him and Sirius wrapped his arms around his young mate. “Harry love, What’s…?”“Temper, she’s gone! I can’t find her.” Sirius joined Harry in his panic and together they searched the house and yard. She was only a little over a year old, how could she have been missing. Remus arrived hours later to a sobbing Harry. Sirius had left to contact allies for a search. They’d decided she must have been kidnapped. Three hour’s later, she appeared before them, laughing, in a golden glow of light.
3 years old.
Sirius watched the only child who’d ever bear his name, despite that Harry had carried her to term, play by herself in the sand box at a muggle park. Harry insisted that they incorporate the Muggle world in their daughter’s life. As a five year old that looked uncannily like Temper settled down to play with his daughter, Sirius paused. He shook off the unusual feeling and waited the required hour before taking his daughter to get ice-cream, as he’d promised. Stupid Harry and his stupid rules.
5 years old.
When their daughter disappeared again, Remus refused to panic. It was his day to spend with their only child and not the first time she’d disappeared. An hour later the golden glow returned her, babbling about playing with herself in a sand box and seeing Poppa Sirius. Remus filed it away as more proof for his growing theory. He didn’t want to alert his mates just yet, Sirius would not believe him, and Harry would panic. After all who wouldn’t panic if they had a time traveling child.
10 Years old.
“What do you mean she doesn’t have any magic?” Sirius demanded of McGonagall. “I’m sorry. She just doesn’t have enough magic to come to Hogwarts.” Her face was the picture of Sympathy as she gazed upon her favorite students. Only Temper looked calm, though she went to her Daddy Harry when he held his arms out for a hug. “Don’t worry Daddy. Adam will be able to go to Hogwarts.” Harry blinked at her. “Who’s Adam?” She put her hands on his stomach and smiled at him slyly, “My brother of course.” She giggled at the slack-jaw of her Daddy, Papa, and Father.“How do you know Temper?” Remus asked softly. She turned her smile at him and proved his theories right, “I’ve met him. He‘s born just before you are voted Minister of Magic, Father.” A double trunk signaled both Sirius and McGonagall had fainted.
16 years old.
Harry sighed as he pushed the knife out of reach of Adam Potter. The five year old would put anything he could in his mouth. Adam’s birth had been hard, and Harry was unable to have anymore children. Since Sirius was also unable, they decided to adopt. Temperence’s time travel ability had been both a blessing and a curse. Today was her 16th birthday, but Harry was cooking for ten. Apparently this was her favorite birthday and she continued to travel in time to be here. Harry peaked out the window at watched a 63 year old Temperence and her wife, Amelia Malfoy, holding a 1 ½ year old Temperence while listening to the 8 year old Temperence chatter on about muggle primary school. Apparently this was where she had disappeared to that frightening first time. Temper’s 29 year old version was deep in conversation with Remus about a Dark Lord that would be born soon. She wanted them to adopt another one. She’d apparently already prevented one Dark Lord by bringing them Justin, who was currently pulling Sirius’ hair as the animagus struggled to feed him. “Daddy,” the true, 16 year old, Temper called as she stepped into the kitchen. “Want me to carry anything out?” Harry smiled at her and nodded. He was so glad that she ended up being a good girl. It would have been easy to abuse the power so much time in the veil had created in her.
25 years old.
Temperence Black sat down with her brothers and fathers with a serious expression on her face. The boys were all old enough to know now, though she would leave out their part in the prevented future, no boy needed to know they killed millions of people. “Temper, what’s this about?” Poppa Sirius was never patient, and age hadn’t helped much. She smiled at them. She loved them all so much. “I’m going to tell you about the future you and I have prevented.” Remus started to argue with her, they’d had this discussion before, but she waved him off. “I need to tell someone and I haven’t met Amelia yet.” Sighing Remus nodded. “You know I’ve popped into the future periodically since I’ve been able to control it and bring back things to prevent it. So far, we’ve prevented civil war between wizards and the beings, discovery by muggles, completely breeding out into squibs and muggles, invasion by China, and the rise of several Dark Lords.” She was proud that none of her father’s even glanced at her adopted brothers. “The one I want to tell you in detail is also why I will never have children. My son, James, named for my grandpa, inherited my power. Somehow, he lacked empathy and used his power to become so powerful and dangerous that I couldn’t stop him.” She hung her head. It had been unbelievably hard to see what her son had become. When she felt twelve hands and arms on her, the tears finally came and she mourned what could have been.
Temperence Black’s story is very special, and for another time.
|
10023437
|
are you not seduced
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Female My Unit | Avatar, Odin (Fire Emblem)",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by WattStalf",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00",
"words": "1,606",
"Additional Tags": "Awkward Seduction, Fade to Black, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, FE Rare Pair Week",
"Relationship": "My Unit | Kamui | Corrin/Odin",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "FE Rare Pair Week 2017",
"Collections": "FE Rarepair Week",
"Fandoms": "Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem Series",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“I can do this,” she says to herself, taking a few deep breaths. “I can do this.” Corrin is currently alone in her room, but she knows that she won’t be for long, and she’s trying to mentally prepare herself for when her guest arrives. She requested that he come to see her earlier that day, and now she knows it’s only a matter of time, and that she has to be ready.
Currently, she’s wearing only a thin nightgown, the closest thing to something sexually appealing that she has, and she hopes that it’ll do the trick. She’s had her eye on this man for so long, but she hasn’t been able to find a way to properly convey that. Finally, after her frustrations have built up past a point that she can bear, she decides to take things up a notch. She decides that she’s going to seduce him.
Of course, she has no way of knowing if even that is going to work, or if he won’t be affected by such things, and she really doesn’t know much about seduction, but she wants him so very badly that she’s willing to put in whatever effort necessary to try to win him over once and for all. Taking another deep breath to steady herself, she waits for the man she’s positively smitten with to arrive.
When she hears a knock on her door, she calls out, “Come in!” and is very grateful that her voice doesn’t shake. The door opens and she shifts, sitting slightly on her side in the hopes that he’ll see her sprawled on her bed and be overcome with desire.
“Milady? You requested audience with Odin Dark? If you have any need of my particular skills, you only have to ask!” he proclaims. “As a master of magic, I know a variety of spells and curses that could be very useful for you. Or, perhaps you’ve called me here for my other notable skills? Do you have a weapon that needs naming? Do you need help coming up with the perfect pose to achieve your full power?”
As he speaks, he makes wild gestures and she can’t help but giggle, finding his antics endearing as ever. She’s had the most hopeless crush on him for far too long now, and it honestly surprises her that he hasn’t already figured that out.
“Actually, I just wanted to talk,” she murmurs.
“You...do?” For a moment, he seems surprised, but then he clears his throat and says, “I mean, of course you do! As I’m sure you know, I have
many
stories and legends to share! Perhaps, you, ah...wanted to hear one before you went to sleep?” He seems to notice for the first time just how she is dressed. “It does look like you were getting ready for bed…”
“I’ve got plenty of time to talk to you,” she replies, sitting up completely and leaning forward as if to show interest in what he has to say. Really, she’s just leaning forward in the hopes that her gown will drop a bit and he’ll become interested in all there is to see, but his eyes only dart down briefly before they return to her face.
“Is that right? Well, hearing a tale of Odin Dark is sure to keep you entertained! Do you have any requests, or should I just go with the one you’ll find most interesting?” She thinks he might be a little off, a little distracted, but it’s so hard for her to tell.
Leaning forward a little more and crossing her legs so that her skirt rises, she says, “Oh, yes, I’d love to hear anything you have to say!”
“You would? I mean, you would! Only natural that you’d be captivated by tales of heroics. Well, let it never be said that Odin Dark would disappoint a princess in need!” he exclaims. “Now, lets see what sort of story would be best for the atmosphere!”
She rests a hand on his arm, laughing as he speaks, and he falls silent, looking down at her hand with a confused expression. Is she doing this right? When he goes on as if nothing happened, launching into some elaborate tale involving the undead, she tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong. Him rejecting her would be one thing, but he hasn’t even shown any sign of noticing what she’s trying to do!
When she pulls her hand back, she rolls her shoulder so that the strap of her gown falls, and watches his face for some sort of reaction. He starts to trail off in his story, his eyes lingering on the fallen strap, and then seems to lose his focus completely.
“I’m sorry, milady, but, uh…” He gestures at her. “You seem to be...well, your…”
“Oh? Let me just fix that,” she says, trying to make her voice sound light and airy, but it really just sounds a little too forced, and giggling while she fixes the strap doesn’t do anything to make it seem natural. “Sorry, was I distracting you?”
“O-of course not! A legendary hero like Odin Dark never gets
distracted
, especially not in the middle of something so important! I only...that is, I was afraid it would distract
you
. Now, where was I?”
Corrin can’t help but be frustrated, seeing him still acting so oblivious. Is it really not working at all? Has he even noticed how badly she wants him? What else is there to do to get him to figure out what it is that she wants from him? Without thinking, she groans, and he pauses to give her a look of concern.
“Is something troubling you, milady?” He squints at her. “You’ve seemed agitated all night, and not quite like yourself. In fact, I’ve thought there was something off about you all night! Don’t tell me you’ve been cursed! Who would dare do such a thing to someone like you? Don’t worry about a thing, Lady Corrin, I’ll put a stop to this before-”
She kisses him then, because she wants him to shut up, because she doesn’t find his rambling quite so endearing right now, and because she just wants him to
understand
what it is she’s going for. She kisses him hard, leaning up and pulling him down so that he’s kneeling in front of her bed, and she holds her arms around his neck so tight that he can’t escape. At first, he’s completely stiff in his surprise, and she’s never kissed anyone before, so she doesn’t know if it’s any good, but when he responds, she thinks that that must mean
something
.
Odin moans almost pathetically into her mouth and she clings to him, unable to resist after desiring him for so long. She just wants to stay in this moment forever, if it means having him close to her and not resisting her at all, but eventually, he seems to come to his senses and wrenches out of the kiss.
“I knew it,” he says, sounding dazed and like he doesn’t really believe what he’s saying. “You’re
definitely
cursed, there’s no way…”
“But I’m not!” she protests. “I’m not, I was doing that because...because I wanted to. Honestly, did you really think I was doing this because I was cursed?” With their faces so close like this, he can see her sincerity, and she can see the concern and then the guilt and then the confusion, as his face shifts.
“But...I don’t understand…”
“I’ve been coming onto you all night, and you still don’t
get
it? Do you not think I’m pretty, or...or…”
“No! I just…” Gone are his theatrics and he speaks in a tone more vulnerable, more genuine, than anything she’s used to hearing from him. “I just have no idea how this is supposed to work? I’m sorry, Lady Corrin, I’m just really dense, I’ve never…”
“Been seduced?”
“That’s one way of putting it…”
“But do you...you know? Like me? At all?”
“Do you like
me
?”
“Of course! Isn’t that obvious?”
“I…” He seems so genuinely surprised that he’s at a loss, and he clears his throat. “I-I suppose I can see how you might have been drawn in by the alluring darkness that surrounds me, but...you like me? For real?”
“I like you,” she says. “I like you so much, and I just want…”
“I promise, I’ll...I’ll do my best.” Once again, he sounds different, with his more vulnerable tone of voice, and she decides that she likes this side of him just as much. “There are many things that I am highly skilled in! But this...is...not one of them. Because I’ve never…”
“I haven’t either,” she says, “so...I’ll do my best too?”
He takes a deep breath before saying, “I’m absolutely overwhelmed with joy, Lady Corrin. I’ve been admiring you from afar for so long, and to think that you harbored secret affection for me! I’d do anything...
anything
to make you happy, I hope you understand that.”
She grins at him as she says, “You have no idea just how happy I am right now. I thought...I dunno, I thought you weren’t interested in me, or that you never would be, and I’m so glad that you feel the same way!”
“How could I not fall for your grace, your charm, your beauty? A princess like you is absolutely unparalleled!” For a moment, he grins back at her, but then his face shifts and he mumbles, “But...your brother is absolutely going to
kill
me for this.”
|
10077161
|
Good morning Joshua
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Josh Dun, Original Female Character(s)",
"Fandom": "Twenty One Pilots",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by Buried_alive87",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00",
"words": "1,085",
"Additional Tags": "Smut, Sex, Love, Fluff",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Josh Dun/Original Female Character(s), Josh Dun/You, Josh Dun/Reader",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
I awaken to the feel of fingertips softly trailing up and down my side, and lips softly kissing my face. I take in a slightly larger breath, willing myself to wake up completely. I open my eyes, pulling my head back so I can look up at the shaggy lemon yellow-haired man lying next to me. I smile at his sweet face, his eyes full of happiness and contentment. I feel my heart swell with the incredible amount of love I have for him.
“Good morning, sunshine.” He says softly, still running his fingers up and down my side.
“Morning, handsome.” I half croak, my voice still thick with sleep. He chuckles at me before kissing my lips softly.
“Did you sleep good?” He asks.
“Hmm. I did. I always sleep good when you are here.” I say, snuggling into his chest. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer. He uses one hand to lightly play with my hair. I inhale deeply, enjoying the light scent of his body wash from his shower last night. I run a hand up, cupping his cheek. I stroke my thumb across it lightly, sighing in contentment. I could stay right here forever if he would let me. I sprinkle kisses on his chest before biting him softly.
“Hey!” Josh laughs, pinching my side. I squeal and giggle, looking up at his beautiful face. He is absolutely perfect to me in every way. His smile, the way he laughs, his eyes, the way he loves me; he is perfect.
Josh’s phone rings, making him sigh then lie back to reach for it. I frown to myself at the loss of attention as he answers Tyler’s call. They begin to chat, and I am hit with an idea. I glance up at Josh, who is now on his back, looking at the ceiling. I trail my fingers up and down his bare stomach. His body lightly shudders at my touch. I watch his eyes look down into mine with a raised eyebrow. I reach the top of his boxers, and play with the top of them. I run my fingers back up his stomach, and trail them over to one of his nipples, and roll it in my fingers softly. He holds back a moan, trying to focus on answering Tyler’s question. I reach down and lightly grab his junk, making his breath hitch. I begin to caress softly, feeling him begin to swell, and his eyes fill full of fire tell me I’m so done for.
“Hey, Tyler? Can I call you in a bit?” He asks. Tyler must agree, because he hangs up the phone, putting it aside. He gets up on his hands and knees, pushing me onto my back, then sits on top of me. He pins my hands on either side of my head.
“Someone's a little bit mischievous this morning, I see.” He says, his eyes glowing with desire. He leans down, kissing me deeply. I moan softly, knowing he loves it when I do. He takes my bottom lip in his mouth, and sucks it lightly, before gently tugging it with his teeth. He moves his mouth to my neck, and reaches for the bottom of the shirt I stole from his side of the closet. He runs his hand up my stomach, cupping one of my breasts. He tweaks the nipple with his fingers, dragging a moan out of me. He leans back, pulling me up enough so he can pull the shirt off of me, tossing it to the side. He pushes me back down, and reaches for my black lace panties. He leans down, kissing my stomach, and trails his tongue down to the top of the lacy garment. He pulls them down, and off, and spreads my legs apart. He leans down, kissing my inner thighs softly, and nips them with his teeth. I reach down, running my fingers through his sunshine hair.
“Joshua-” I gasp as he dips his tongue in my folds, finding that sensitive bud, sucking on it. I grasp his hair, pulling it, making him moan in response. I feel him slide two fingers inside of me, and I pull his hair harder, moaning loudly. He continues his sweet assault, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I tense, moaning his name.
He pulls away, leaving me gasping, and whining at his sudden halt. He chuckles, and kisses my inner thigh before climbing up to kiss me roughly. I taste myself in his mouth, but I don't care. All I want is this man touching me everywhere. I run my hands up his chest, and up to his neck. I wrap my arms around him, and scratch his back with my nails.
“Mmmm.” Josh says, pulling back to look at me with a grin. He kisses me on the cheek, while I reach for the top of his boxers, and begin to pull them down. He reaches down to help, pulling his thick, stiff member out. He runs the head in my wet folds, and pushes himself in.
“Joshua.” I purr, encouraging him to move. He pulls out some and suddenly begins to slam himself into me over and over again, knowing I loved it rough. He lifts one of my legs, and I hook it around his hip. I dig my nails into his bum, begging him to move harder and faster. He obeys, and digs his fingers into my hip.
“Oh my God, Joshua!” I call out loudly. He buries his face in my neck, grunting and growling. I feel myself racing back to the edge of an orgasm. Josh’s thrusts begin to falter, which meant he was close too.
“Come with me, baby.” He growls. God, I love his gravelly sex voice. I feel myself teetering on the edge, and with a few more thrusts, I'm crashing in wave after wave of pleasure, calling Josh’s name. Josh continues to thrust through our orgasms, moaning my name.
“God, I love you, baby. So much.” He says when he finally pulls out and collapses onto my chest.
“I love you too, Joshua. More than anything.” I run my fingers through his messy hair, and he kisses my chest softly. He snuggles himself closer, and sighs in content. I smile, looking down at this man who is all mine, and I couldn't ask for anything else in the world. He was all I wanted, and all I needed. I was truly blessed.
|
10001270
|
How Idleness Rewards
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/F",
"Characters": "Lucrezia de Dormentaire, Carla Alvarez Santonia",
"Fandom": "Baccano!",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by toushindai (WallofIllusion)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "2,230",
"Additional Tags": "Shower Sex, Femslash February, ok THIS one's PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, non-AU modern setting, speaking of which if carla is not immortal I will cry for 291 years",
"Relationship": "Lucrezia de Dormentaire/Carla Alvarez Santonia",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Lucrezia never went to the gym to exercise. Careful planning by her chefs, occasional nights out dancing and more regular nights of other physical pursuits, and a metabolism frozen at just the right moment in time combined to make the maintenance of a desirable figure completely effortless—which was just the way she liked it. So when she occasionally did grace one of her family’s country club gyms with her presence, it was with one of two purposes: to see or to be seen. She enjoyed the way her gaze inspired whomever it fell on to try a little harder, to show off a little more… to join her in the hot tub, when they were finally done working so hard, and then perhaps to come home with her afterwards.But tonight, her gaze was going all but ignored.Lucrezia didn’t mind.It was Carla she was watching.Her immortal guard often visited the gym on the cusp of closing time, relying on her affiliation with the House Dormentaire to permit the trespass. So she was the only one exercising now, and she had to be aware that Lucrezia was watching her every move. Even so, every stretch, every lap around the track, every lift of a weight was for her own sake, not performed for Lucrezia’s hungry eyes. Lucrezia watched anyway. Carla was handsome even at her most disheveled; here, while she pushed her beautiful body to its limits with unassailable confidence, she was a work of art.Granted, she was art that made Lucrezia’s heart race and her fingertips tremble with the need to touch. Lucrezia was more than passingly familiar with Carla’s body, but somehow seeing her here, black sports bra over her breasts and skintight shorts covering her thighs, was even more erotic than when she joined Lucrezia in bed. Was it the allure of what was hidden? Or was it because she exercised for her own sake? Her loyalty was beautiful, but Lucrezia loved her pride, too, and to see Carla focus on herself instead of devoting every waking moment to Lucrezia only made the socialite lust for the next moment when Carla’s attention returned to her.Or maybe it was nothing so complicated; maybe she just loved to see Carla’s gorgeous muscles at work.Whatever the reason, when Carla finally finished and sent her the briefest self-satisfied smile on the way to the locker room, Lucrezia counted out thirty patient seconds and then followed after her. She stripped out of the Lululemon she wore to look the part of a gym bunny, left her clothes next to Carla’s, and didn’t bother to hide herself with her towel as she proceeded to the showers and rapped lightly on the frosted glass door of the one that was running.“Care for some company, darling?” she asked, leaning on the smooth brick divider between stalls and facing outwards, a smile on her face.The water inside the shower stall kept running. “You jest, milady.”“Jest? Me?” Had there been anyone to see her, Lucrezia would have opened her eyes wide with faux innocence. Instead she closed them smugly, thinking of some of her best pranks. She stifled a chuckle. “I would never be so frivolous.”“Of course not,” Carla agreed blandly, matching Lucrezia’s blatant insincerity.This time, Lucrezia didn’t hide her giggle. “Now that we’ve established that, are you going to let me join you?”A beat.“Here, milady?” Carla asked dubiously.Lucrezia tiped her head to the side, amused. Three centuries side-by-side and that still surprised Carla?“Right here and right now,” she clarified. “If I have to wait until we get home to have you, I will simply lose my mind.”This, she meant quite sincerely. She wanted Carla, all the more urgently because she knew Carla wanted her too. That had been the meaning of that look on the way to the showers: Carla knew that Lucrezia desired her and was pleased with her desire.“There’s no one else here,” Lucrezia wheedled. “I told the guard he could lock up and go home when I came in. And the security cameras can’t see into the shower stalls.”Another long pause, and Lucrezia planned her next angle. Pouting rarely worked on Carla, and pleading was similarly ineffective; the guardswoman valued her own self-composure too much for that. The best strategy, then, was to provoke her desire until it overwhelmed that composure. It would be easier with touches, but Lucrezia had faith in her ability to produce the same effect with words. She opened her mouth to reveal just what she’d been thinking as she watched Carla work the weight machines—Only for a click to indicate the unlocking of the stall door. Lucrezia turned towards the opening door, her face aglow, and saw Carla raising one wry eyebrow.“You have a remarkable talent for disarming my better judgment, milady.”Without hesitation, Lucrezia pushed her back into the shower stall. “What are you talking about? This is a wonderful ide-oh-GOD that’s cold!”She leapt aside, pressing herself against the wall to avoid the stream of icy water, and cast an indignant gaze at Carla as the guard calmly re-locked the shower door and adjusted the water temperature.“Forgive me, milady, I should have warned you. I prefer cold showers after I work out.” She spoke blandly again, but there was something tugging at the corner of her lips.“You’re laughing at me,” Lucrezia protested.“Am I laughing, milady?” Carla asked, turning towards her, but Lucrezia knew that look in her eyes.“You are,” she insisted, “and you’re hardly even trying to hide it, sweetheart. When did you become so bold as to start playing pranks on me?”Carla shrugged, her smile a little less hidden now. “A hundred years ago? Two hundred?”“Well, I love it. Won’t you kiss me while the water warms up, my darling Carla?”She never had to ask twice. Carla set one forearm against the wall and pressed her lips to Lucrezia’s. Her body was warm despite the cold water dripping from it, and Lucrezia grabbed her rear to pull her closer. She needed more hands than she had. Even arching forward, even letting her hands wander up Carla’s spine to her shoulders, down her front, her stomach, her sides—it wasn’t enough. Steam began to rise around them as the water heated up, and Lucrezia caught a whine in her throat with the need to touch every inch of her guard at once.Carla, too, was heating up; her kisses were growing more erratic and Lucrezia felt her pushing into her touch. Carla broke the kiss, trailed her lips down Lucrezia’s throat.“Lucrezia…” she murmured.“Hmm? —Ahhh!”All of a sudden Carla’s fingers slipped between Lucrezia’s legs and she gasped. She whimpered as Carla nudged her way between her folds.“As wet as I imagined,” Carla said, perhaps a bit more smug than wry. “I saw you watching me.”“Sweetheart, I couldn’t take my eyes off you—ah!” Her breath caught as Carla stroked her, silky-wet fingertips moving from her entrance to her clit and back again teasingly. She moaned and parted her legs a little more. “I couldn’t stop—ooh, Carla that’s perfect—thinking about your body, how powerful it feels against mine—nnnh—dreaming of having you right there on the machines…”Carla snorted. “Well. I am glad you spared me that indignity.”“For now,” Lucrezia said, smiling wickedly before particular attention to her clit made her gasp again. Then she let out a breathy laugh, letting her hips move in time with Carla’s patient caresses. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist you next time, darling; you’re just so unbelievably hot when you’re working out! I—ahh—ohh—” She couldn’t finish her sentence, because the rest of it was all desire, and Carla was answering that desire expertly. She planted a long, hungry kiss on the side of Lucrezia’s throat and then teased one finger around her entrance. Lucrezia writhed eagerly. “Yes—!!”A muffled squeal as Carla pressed two fingers inside of her and settled her thumb against her clit. Lucrezia pulled her closer, one arm around her shoulders and the fingers of the opposite hand clutching Carla’s short hair, and ground down on her hand. “Ohh, god, Carla—oh, there!”Carla didn’t need to be told that she’d found the right spot, not after three centuries. Her fingers curled perfectly inside Lucrezia and her thumb circled her clit and Lucrezia was breathless with want. One leg lifted to curl around Carla’s waist and the angle was even better, and with a long, low giggle, Lucrezia had a new idea.“You could hold me up,” she murmured into Carla’s ear, finding her free hand and guiding it to the back of her thigh. “You’re definitely strong enough for it.”“I don’t think that’s a good idea in the shower,” Carla countered, impressively rational. She readily fondled Lucrezia’s rear, but made no effort to lift her.Lucrezia pouted and nipped Carla’s ear. “No, let’s try it! I’ve seen you move, darling, you would never sli—”Carla kissed her then, sudden and hard, which was usually her way of saying shut up, milady. The kiss, and the way she kept moving her fingers inside of Lucrezia, were good enough that Lucrezia didn’t mind at all. She giggled into the kiss until she was moaning instead, her hips canting against Carla’s. Oh, she was close. She broke the kiss so that she could lean her head back and try to catch her breath, but Carla didn’t let up. Once more her lips pressed against Lucrezia’s throat. A whine escaped Lucrezia, and then a wordless cry as her orgasm hit her like a wave. Her heart beat fast against Carla’s body and Carla’s fingers gradually slowed in perfect time with the waning of her climax. Lucrezia pulled her into a kiss, messy and full of love.Once she’d caught her breath, she chuckled a little and ran her hands down Carla’s front. “Gorgeous Carla,” she murmured, mostly to herself. Then she grabbed Carla by the hips and pushed her back through the shower stream. Hot water poured down their bodies and Lucrezia hummed in appreciation. She pressed Carla against the back wall of the shower and then brushed her dripping hair off her forehead.“Turn around, darling,” she instructed, but stole a kiss right before Carla could obey. Then Carla turned towards the wall and Lucrezia eagerly ran her eyes down her back.“God,” she whispered, once again dizzy with the inability to help herself to all of Carla’s body at once. She cupped Carla’s tight ass, landed a hungry kiss on her shoulder. Carla gave a stifled moan. She always did love the way Lucrezia handled her.Lucrezia pressed herself against Carla’s back and slipped her hands around her torso. “God,” she said again, this time humming it right into Carla’s ear, “you’re so incredible, Carla, I want all of you.”Carla let out a quiet whimper at Lucrezia’s flattery. She ground her hips back against Lucrezia’s with need, so Lucrezia slipped one hand between her legs and reveled in the way she bucked with surprise.“Carla—” The other hand wandered from the defined muscles of Carla’s stomach to her breasts and then back again. “Tell me what you need, Carla, tell me what you want.”“Ahh—m-more, milady.”“More, who?” Lucrezia chided, and ran her finger over Carla’s folds only lightly.Carla caught her breath anyway, her body shifting. “Lucrezia,” she murmured, her voice intimate and private. When Lucrezia rewarded her by pressing one finger between her folds, she bit back a cry and said it again: “Lucrezia—!”“There,” Lucrezia breathed. She pressed her lips to the junction between Carla’s neck and her shoulders, toyed with one nipple, just barely skimmed her clit. Carla’s body was hot against hers and the water dripped over them both but the wetness between Carla’s legs wasn’t from the shower. She kept choking back quiet moans. Lucrezia hummed against her neck. “Darling, darling, I love the sound of my name on your lips, but aren’t you clever to save it for times like these? It’s unbelievably erotic.” She pressed her front against Carla’s back, ground her hips against her rear as she teased Carla’s clit. The guard couldn’t stifle her moans this time. They moved together, Lucrezia pressing Carla against the wall and holding her close all at once, fingering her eagerly and expertly, moaning herself every time Carla whimpered her name.When Carla came, she did as well, and she didn’t know which of them pulled the other into a kiss but that didn’t matter; all that mattered was the bliss of their bodies against each other. All that mattered right now was that Carla was hers.Carla was always shy after sex, and soft and sweet; tonight, she traced Lucrezia’s shoulders with a quiet smile on her face, but didn’t meet her eyes until Lucrezia tipped her chin upwards.“My Carla,” she said with a content smile of her own.“My lady,” Carla answered, and somehow it was every bit as intimate as her name had been. Lucrezia gave her one more gentle kiss, and then chuckled.“I suppose we’d better take a proper shower now,” she said, and relished the way Carla laughed along.
|
10046468
|
Something to Come Home
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Qrow Branwen, Ruby Rose (RWBY), Yang Xiao Long, Taiyang Xiao Long, Summer Rose (RWBY), Raven Branwen, Original Character",
"Fandom": "RWBY",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Wolfling21",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00",
"words": "1,436",
"Additional Tags": "the girls are still little, Taiyang is trying to pick up the pieces, Qrow is a good bro, Qrow is a great uncle, they're a sweet little family",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Qrow Branwen & Ruby Rose & Taiyang Xiao Long & Yang Xiao Long, Raven Branwen/Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Qrow leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on his desk and yawned.He really did hate teaching... but apparently a lot of the students loved his unconventional approach to combat classes.“Excuse me? Mr. Branwen?”He raised an eyebrow slowly at the voice... his students knew better than to call him Mister.Standing just inside the door to his classroom was a young woman with black and orange skin.“Can I help you?” he asked.“I'm sorry to bother you. But I'm worried about Professor Xiao Long.” she said.At the mention of Tai, he remembered who the young woman was... his TA.Mona was a mixed breed faunus: one parent was a cat faunus and the other was a snake faunus. And because of her parent being two different types of faunus: their daughter had been born with ink black skin that was only broken by beautiful and intricate orange designs.“Sorry... was half asleep. What's wrong with Taiyang?” he asked, getting up.“I think he's having a bad day. He spaced out in the middle of a lecture this morning. And now, at lunch, he's just sitting there... staring off into space.” Mona admitted.Qrow sighed and ran a hand through his hair.Summer had been dead roughly three years and while Tai seemed to be doing okay sometimes, others... not so much.“I'll go check on him. Is he in the cafeteria?” Qrow asked.“No... he's in his classroom.” she said.He nodded and said, “Go get something to eat Mona. And thanks.”-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0“Tai?” Qrow called quietly as he walked into his brother in law's classroom.Tai was sitting at his desk, face buried in his hands. “Tai Tai?” he called, trying the nickname he knew the other man hated.“Don't call me that.” Tai groaned.“It got a response out of you though. Mona told me you're having a bad day.” Qrow whispered, sitting on the edge of the desk.Tai nodded slowly and leaned forward to rest his head on Qrow's knee. “I miss Summer.” he whispered.“I do too. Every single day.” Qrow reassured him as he patted the blonde's hair.While Tai had ended up having two beautiful daughters, one with Raven and the other with Summer, Qrow had loved Summer while they were in Beacon.But his semblance and his upbringing made his extremely cautious of becoming too close to anyone... including the tiny woman in a white cloak who had stolen his heart.Summer's death had brought him and Tai closer than ever... after they both accepted and began to deal with the lose.Qrow glanced at his scroll and asked, “Do you wanna head home? The girls should be getting out of school soon. If you leave now, you can make it home before they do.”“No... if I go home now... I won't be there for the girls. I'll be lost in my head.” Tai told him.“Fair enough. Then now about I go home to surprise the girls? You take the rest of the day to get yourself together. I'm sure Mona will be willing to help out where she can. I bet we can even have dinner ready for you when you get home.” Qrow told him.Tai looked up at him, face tear streaked and eyes red, before whispering, “Thanks Qrow.”Qrow patted his hair again before getting up. “Make sure you eat something for lunch.” he told him.-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-“Uncle Qrow!” Ruby shouted before she disappeared in a flurry of rose petals to reappear at his feet.“Hey kiddo.” he chuckled, crouching down to pat her head gently.Ruby giggled and asked, “When will I be as big as you?” “When you're older. But first, you have to drink lots of milk.” he smirked.She giggled again and raced towards the house, trailing petals behind her.“Hi Uncle Qrow.” Yang chirped when he walked in.“Hey firecracker. Where's Miss Gwen?” he asked as he bent down to adjust one of her ribbons.“Making peanut and jelly sandmiches.” Ruby told him.Qrow smiled and gently corrected, “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Not sandmiches.” “Taiyang said it the same way when he was a little boy.” Gwen told him, coming out of the kitchen with a large plate of sandwiches.Gwen was an old friend of Tai's family who babysat him as a child when his parents had been out on missions. Her husband had been one of the first Huntsmen to graduate from Beacon, which she was very proud of. Over the years, when Tai, Qrow, Raven and Summer had been attending Beacon, she had become a sort of surrogate mother to them all.“I don't doubt that Gwen.” Qrow smiled, kissing her cheek gently before stepping into the kitchen.“When is Taiyang coming home?” she asked after leaving the sandwiches with the girls.“Later. We came to the agreement that I would come home and be with the girls while he worked. He said that if he came home, he wouldn't be here for the girls... mentally at least. He's not having a great day.” he admitted.“It's sweet of you to look after the girls.” Gwen told him.He smiled sadly and whispered, “Raven was my sister. And I loved Summer. So of course I would take care of their daughters. Especially when Ruby is the tiny mirror image of...”There was a crash then the sound of crying.Qrow rushed back into the living to see the armchair overturned and Ruby crying on the floor. Yang was standing to the side, blinking in surprise.“Yang? What happened?” Gwen asked.“She got up to get the remote then she was gone. Then the chair fell back and Ruby was behind it.” Yang told her.Qrow picked Ruby up and whispered, “It's okay petals. Show Uncle Qrow where it hurts.”Ruby obediently pointed to her knees, both of which were scraped but not bleeding.Qrow smiled before gently setting Ruby down on the couch beside her sister and said, “You two stay right here. I'm gonna go find a couple of bandaids.”-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0—0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-Tai felt two tiny bodies hit him as he walked into the house, still in a slight daze.“Daddy?” He blinked, looking down at his daughters before he smiled and said, “Hey girls. I'm sorry... Daddy was thinking about Mommy.”Yang and Ruby looked at each other before they both hugged his legs tightly. “Uncle Qrow made dinner.” Yang told him.“And I got booboos on my knees.” Ruby added.“How did you get booboos?” Tai asked, picking her up.“Her semblance got away from her. Near as me and Gwen could tell, she got up to grab the remote from the arm chair, her speed took over then she overturned the armchair when she rushed it. And we guess she scraped her knees when she skidded to a stop.” Qrow called from the kitchen.“Did Gwen make it home okay?” Tai asked.“We walked her home. Then we walked to the store because Uncle Qrow said we didn't have any chocolate chips.” Yang piped up.“And we needed to buy a picthure frame.” Ruby added.“Picture. Why did we need chocolate chips? And a picture frame?” Tai asked, kissing Ruby's cheek as he corrected her.“For cookies! And a suprwise!” Ruby squealed happily.Yang tugged gently on Tai's shirt and he glanced down at the picture she was holding.Ruby was laughing in Qrow's arms while Yang smiled happily from where she was leaning against his back. The girls were both dressed in the clothes that Tai had put them in that morning for school so he knew it was a brand new picture.“Uncle Qrow said it might make you feel better.” Yang told him.Tai took the picture from her and whispered, “Yeah.. it does. Thank you.”Qrow smirked and opened the oven... to have a little bit of smoke billow up at him. “I think the cookies are done.” he sighed, pulling a pan of very burnt cookies out to set on the stove.Tai chuckled and said, “We can try to make more. After dinner.” “Stupid semblance.” Qrow muttered, shutting the oven with his foot.“Hey... it's not a total lose. You helped me get through the day, took care of the girls, made sure that dinner was ready and had a nice surprise waiting for me when I got home. I'd call that a good day.” Tai admitted, moving to stand beside him.Qrow picked Yang before hugging Tai and whispering, “Yeah I guess I would too.”
|
10021499
|
Just Tipsy
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "John Sheppard, Rodney McKay",
"Fandom": "Stargate Atlantis",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by mckays_girl (Marks_Human_Companion)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2006-06-04T00:00:00",
"words": "643",
"Additional Tags": "Humor",
"Relationship": "Rodney McKay/John Sheppard",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Just Tipsy",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
They sat in the small restaurant off the lobby of the hotel. Spread out on the table was a dozen different dishes. John watched as Rodney stuffed his face, making sure to try something from every plate.
"Mmmm, Earth food," Rodney sighed before popping another mozzarella stick in his mouth.
"It was awfully nice of the SGC to let us have a couple of days off before heading back to Atlantis," John said, picking up a chicken finger and dipping it in some barbeque sauce. "The hotel is an excellent touch. Better than being cooped up underground."
"It's kind of like a mini vacation," Rodney grinned.
"Well, it that case," John signaled to the waitress, who approached them. "I'd like a Pina Colada."
"Ooooooh, I want one too," Rodney said excitedly, "but make mine a virgin," he told the waitress before she walked away. "Alcohol makes me horny," he replied to Sheppard's raised eyebrow, "and I have no outlet so . . . no."
Five minutes later the waitress came out with two very large drinks. On her way over she stopped to answer a question from another patron. Afterward, she arrived at their table and placed a drink in front of Rodney. It had a wedge of pineapple on the rim of the glass and a red plastic sword with maraschino cherries. John's glass had a little yellow umbrella.
John took a sip and enjoyed the taste of pineapple and coconut. Kinda chintzy on the alcohol, he thought. I can't even taste it.
After another twenty minutes of delicious food and good conversation, they decided to call it a night. They paid the waitress and stood up to go. Rodney stumbled a little.
"You okay there buddy?" John asked pointedly.
Rodney replied with a giggle and started to tip over.
"Whoa there," John helped steady his friend. "I think they might have gotten our drinks mixed up."
Rodney snorted. "Really?"
"Let's get you up to your room." John grabbed Rodney by the arm.
"'Kay," Rodney slurred, letting John lead him towards the elevators.
"McKay, I can' believe you're drunk from one drink," John admonished him as the elevator doors closed. He slipped his arm around the scientist's waist to hold him up.
"Not drunk," Rodney corrected as he leaned into John. "Just tipsy." The last part was over emphasized, making Rodney sound giddy.
Then there was warm breath on his neck and moist lips on his ear and John thought he should tell Rodney to stop, but his blood was leaving his brain and heading down south. The elevator jerked to a halt, breaking the spell. John pulled away from Rodney. "Come on, let's go." He gave him a little shove towards the doors as they slid open.
They got to Rodney's room and John took a moment to fish through Rodney's jacket pocket to find his room key while Rodney pawed at him. He got Rodney inside, brought him over to the bed and pushed him down.
"Ooooh, Colonel," Rodney purred with lust filled eyes. And that shouldn't turn him on so much.
"You're not thinking straight Rodney," he started taking off the other man's shoes. A moment later and McKay was passed out. John was both relieved and disappointed. He wanted this, but knew it would be taking advantage. He stripped Rodney down to his boxers and tucked him in under the covers. Then he removed his own shoes and sat down on the other side of the bed shaking his head. "I'm insane," he told himself before settling down for the night.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
This story archived at http://www.wraithbait.com/viewstory.php?sid=7349
|
10044674
|
Okonomiyaki Cheesecake
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov",
"Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by IllyasJames",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00",
"words": "2,912",
"Additional Tags": "First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, First Time Bottoming, Barebacking, Light Dom/sub",
"Relationship": "Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Okonomiyaki Date",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Waking up with the arms of the man you love wrapped tightly around you is something Victor could definitely get used to. And he has been getting used to the idea of having just that over the past few weeks. A sly smile forms on his lips while looking down on Yuuri's sleeping face. Today is their first free day in weeks. He understands why Yuuri refused to take any after the incident in Russia, but Victor has not forgotten a particular 'reward' he'd been promised. And even though Yuuri and him had talked about what happened that night, he has every intention to collect.He looks at his right hand and the ring shining brightly at him. Yuuri has taught him so much, sometimes to the point of embarrassing himself, and he finds his love echoed back to him in every exchange. Today is going to be fantastic. He's got most of it planned, he has a lift to tick things off of after all. Getting Yuuri to wake is a task on it's own, and Victor can't be happier it only took him half an hour to convince his fiance to get in the shower. His Fiance. He's convinced he has heart shaped eyes to go with his mouth just gushing that thought. A ping from his phone distracts him for a second. Seriously thinking of ignoring it he remembers Yakov was going to let him know if the Russian skating federation would agree in letting him compete in the nationals next month. Suddenly nervous, Victor hesitates to open the message. He's still staring at his screen when Yuuri get's out of the bathroom fully dressed. "Still can't believe you got us a room with a glass room divider for the bathr... Victor? Is something wrong?" Victor looks up at Yuuri. "I'm not certain. Yakov sent me a message, but I haven't gotten around to opening it yet. He was going to let me know if I would be okay'd for nationals. And I'm worried that this might be text to tell me they gave a no, but then again it could also be a simple text telling me he still has to do it." "It can also be him telling you they said yes." Victor nods and stares at the screen, not moving his fingers. So Yuuri steps beside him, places his one hand on Victor's back and uses his other to tap open the message. It only says one thing written in Cyrillic 'да' nothing else. They leave for the breakfast place Victor picked out a lot later as he had intended. But he couldn't be too bothered by it at that point. As Yuuri had been so happy with the text the kiss he'd given him had turned in a full blown make-out session. Leaving them both a bit hot and bothered. Poorly this also meant that instead having the place in the quit hour between breakfast and brunch the place was crowded. Yuuri almost wants to step back out when two familiar people start waving at them. There in a corner table are Phichit and Chris clearly getting their attention. So although Victor had wanted it to be a romantic thing for just him and Yuuri it ends up being a group thing instead."So Yuuri. Where is that sister of yours? I would think she'd be chaperoning you around a bit now that you don't have to worry about skating." Chris grins at him and gives him a wink, Yuuri blushes but keeps his face mostly straight."She would have but Victor had booked all of our tickets and Mari-neesans and Miriko-sans happened to be the red-eye flight right after last nights exhibition. They were already boarded by the time the banquet started. Or they's have tried to get in that." "Ah so you are getting a flight later today. Me and Chris' flights are only an hour apart so we decided to share a cab but we could all go together if your flight is at the same time." Victor wraps his arm around Yuuri, quickly stealing the last of his breakfast from his plate. "I doubt it, as we are not scheduled to fly out till tomorrow. We have been working so hard on the pair skate it is literally our First Day off in weeks. So I've got a lot of things planned. And I'm as happy as a puppy about it too." Yuuri turns a bright red with these words. Realizing what Victor just said he smiles at Phichit. A smile his former roommate immediately translate correctly. He was there when Yuuri had started his search and even suggested the code word for 'I want to play' for Yuuri based on him gushing about his dog and the man he was named after. The big eyes Phichit gives him make it clear that he wants details once he can get in touch again. Yuuri nods. At this Chris finds himself whisked out of the table seat and towards the door with Phichit calling that he's going to spam Yuuri's feed till they can see each other at 4CC. Victor just smiles having figured out that the friend that helped Yuuri figure things out must have been the Thai and that his code word had been picked up by both the younger skaters. Yuuri is a bit silent on their way back to the hotel, and Victor fears he might have pushed his luck a bit with being so open with his want. But his mind is eased when Yuuri pulls him into the corner of the elevator and kisses him into submission. A skill he's perfected in the past few weeks. The eyes that look at him once their lips part are calm and anxious, both sides of his love combined. A soft smile on his lips. "So the great Victor Nikiforov is going to take all my first today? Have you been planning this all along? Or just after the final." Victor just smiles. He can feel his joy growing at the eagerness in Yuuri's eyes. Seems he wasn't the only one looking forward to it. He just hoped the rest of his surprise pleases Yuuri as much. He practically drags Yuuri back to their room. Indeed as eager as a puppy and Yuuri is laughing with sheer joy over it. Once he get's the door open he pushes Yuuri inside to reveal what he asked the staff to set up for them. The bedding has changed to only a sheet and some pillows, There is a blanket folded in the windowsill but that is all the covers there are. Also clearly displayed on the nightstand is everything they would need. Yuuri's eyes get those sparkles he loves to see when he looks over the bed but they grow duller when he looks at the things on the stand. Perhaps he's not ready after all. Victor watches nervously when Yuuri walks towards the item's on the stand picking each one up. The lotion, that smells like small flowers, the lube that Victor picked as it had the smoothest texture, the finger rubbers to help him opening him up -if he's going to let him- and the condoms for protection. It's those that make Yuuri look at Victor with a somewhat mischievous gleam to the eyes. "I believe the last tick was "The first to unleash his sperm in you.." so these are not necessary." And with that, Yuuri tosses the condoms in the garbage can. Victor practically whimpers, he had told Yuuri he preferred bare-backing but had only once trusted a partner enough to do so. With all the test they as athletes had to go through being cleared was standard but anyone not an athlete, you'd never know if there clean result wasn't ripped from the internet. Making it very hard to trust somebody at the first go. To be given this trust by his Yuuri, well getting hard would not be a problem anymore. When Yuuri turns at him completely he does it so elegantly Victor knows the scene has started for real. And he feels his insides ignite."Victor, my love" Yuuri drags the word at such a tone Victor starts to tremble "I believe I'm wearing too many pieces of clothing. Could you be so kind as to take them off." Victor has no other choice than to comply and he moves towards the younger man. His hands move diligently, removing every piece of clothing till there is only his boxers left. Yuuri stops him there, by placing his hand over Victor's hands."On your knees, my love. I want you to see what you are doing to me and then to take me apart. Slowly. Taste me." At this Victor remembers what other first is there to come and he eagerly drops to his knees. Still fully dressed.Yuuri is leaning a bit forwards, his hands on Victor's shoulders being the only anchor he has to prevent his knees from buckling. Moans and pleas together with the Russians name all he's able to say. Lord. He did not think something as vulgar as having his cock down an other mans throat could feel so damn good. Victor's hands on his naked butt guiding him in a rhythm too good to be kept up for much longer. He can feel Victor's tongue at the base but it is the soft spasms around the tip, caused by Victor's gags and swallows and hums that make the sight in front of his eyes swim in and out of focus. When the first pulls hits him he tries to pull out instinctively, even though he and Victor had discussed it and he knew Victor wanted to swallow it all. Luckily Victor stops him by squeezing his butt, this forces everything out. Yuuri hangs practically limp over Victor, trying to regain some composure with his body still forcing small bits of cum out of his limping cock. Victor softly sucks the tip to get it all out and his hand pumps the base to make certain of it. Yuuri sighs before blanking out.He finds himself coming to on the bed, the blanket draped over him and Victor softly brushing his hear aside. A Victor who is mostly undressed, but with a slight worried look on his face. Yuuri breaks the scene a bit and rubs Victor's cheek. "Next time I think I have to either sit or be lying, puppy dear. You are far too good for me to handle that standing up." His praise has the right effect as Victor get's his big bright happy smile again. Seeing that Yuuri tosses the blanket aside, lying himself bare for his lover."Now let us continue. I want to feel your fingers play me like I know only you can do." And oh does Victor know how to do it. At first his touches are only teasing, soft even. He makes it nearly an art showing Yuuri how he warms the lube first, how he slicks up his fingers -nicely covered in those rubbers so that no nails can cause damage- and his smile is far less Sub then it was before. Yuuri doesn't mind, he had told Victor he'd rather did this as more of an equals than a Sub/Dom level. When the first finger was pushed in Yuuri started panting, it was only used to spread the lube around the rim, but it felt so intrusive Yuuri's mind kept focusing on the sensation. He had something in his body.The second finger, joint after a while and the two started to play inside him. Yuuri couldn't determine if they were dancing inside of him or not. He started to moan the moment Victor pushed them a bit apart. Oh did he feel that. As did he feel the cold rush of more lube being added. Whenever Yuuri opens his eyes long enough to look he can see Victor looking at the spot where his fingers are in Yuuri. And he has the most revered smile on his face, almost as if he's seeing the best thing ever to be shown to humankind. He has no idea how long Victor has been making him ache but suddenly he pulls his fingers out and shows them to Yuuri. Then he raises a third and pulls up his eyebrow, all Yuuri can do is nod. Yes Three. So Victor adds a third and those three together find the spot Victor had promised him about. The one that would make him scream.And Lord does he scream. And come. He had not been able to believe he could come any harder than before, but this hits him in just the right spot indeed. It's when Yuuri is done shaking that Victor leans back and pulls out his fingers. leaving Yuuri feeling bereft of something he deeply believes is his. But he doesn't complain when he sees Victor lube up his penis. No matter how many times Yuuri's seen it already over the past few months and that one night. He can only marvel at it. Marvel and wonder. As it is clear that victor's girth is bigger than those three fingers together. And for a moment there is a small voice of doubt in his mind that he's not ready, that he'll never be ready, that it's going to hurt. Yuuri closes his eyes and breaths in deeply, letting it out slowly. He knows that no matter what Victor will stop the moment he doesn't want to go on. So he checks with himself. It was just a moment of doubt, he is every bit willing to do this. So when he opens his eyes he can meet Victor's questioning ones with a clear and undoubted look."Take me, Victor. Make me yours." The Russian man smiles at him so seductively, Yuuri can feel his cheeks burn up. It's then that their lips meet. Victor pushes Yuuri's legs a bit farther apart and aligns himself with Yuuri's readied body. "I'll go in slowly, as we discussed. Just tell me to wait if you need time to adjust. Okay." Yuuri nods. They discussed it indeed. They had discussed everything since that night he had walked in on Victor. So when Victor pushes in the tip of his penis, Yuuri breaths out slowly. And he keeps his breathing regulated all the time that Victor moves into him. Till Victor moves past the part the fingers had gotten to. Yuuri taps Victor twice on the shoulder telling him he needs some time. So Victor still his movement just leisurely putting kisses on Yuuri's collar bone, waiting for Yuuri's call. One to stop - and Victor will pull out- or three to continue. Instead Yuuri's body makes the decision for him by starting to pulse around him, the three taps come almost right after that. Something in Yuuri seems to have changed as he wraps his legs around Victor's waist with his feet on his but. It's from that position that he starts to push Victor slightly with every movement. Yuuri pulls Victor in for a frantic kiss."All of it. Just give me all of it and let me adjust. But do it now." Victor looks at Yuuri and sees a need in his eyes only Victor can fill.With that he pulls out a bit before -after asking Yuuri if he's absolutely certain- slamming himself all the way in. He stills his movement to give Yuuri a moment to adjust to the change of being joined to an other man down to the hip bones. He needs to pant a bit as he's feeling every little bit himself and the feeling of being In Yuuri, of having their bodies joined makes him feel pretty lightheaded and giddy. Later on neither can say who started to move, but they are frantic, needy and soon enough covered in sweat and Yuuri's cum. Not that his orgasm is making it seem he'll stop anytime soon. Victor on the other hand, is well aware of the over-sensitivity that can occur tries to pull out but Yuuri stops him. "Not till you have given me the last thing on the list. I want to feel you in me. I want to feel you twitch and pulse and I want to feel your sperm released in me so hard it will leave you breathless." And if Victor hadn't been close already Yuuri's next word would have done the trick. "Come for my. Vitya. Cum in me." So he does.After the shower they are nicely rolled together in the blanket all their limbs entangled. At the point of falling asleep, victor takes a quick look at the room. They cleaned up nicely. The towels Victor had been so smart to put under Yuuri at the start are nicely stuffed in the wash bag of the hotel, the lube, lotion and the condoms are put in Victor's bag. The finger rubbers and the tissues all tossed in the garbage in their place.It's when Victor thinks that Yuuri has fallen asleep as his breath has evened out minutes before, that he finds out just how calm his love can be.As it's uttered in the softest voice. "Victor. Next time. I want to see you on the receiving end." Followed by a soft snore indicating that he now was indeed asleep.
|
10039367
|
Hoot
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Alfonse (Fire Emblem), Sharon | Sharena",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by loverbouquet",
"chapters": "2/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00",
"words": "1,600",
"Additional Tags": "Owls, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Childhood, Autumn",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem Heroes",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
The beginning of the autumn season was always a pleasant one. The days were no longer unbearably hot, but also not bitter cold. Leaves would change their colors and slowly descend to the ground, either one by one or in clumps. If one were to put enough leaves in a pile, the fun of jumping into it was hard not to enjoy."Come on, Alfie, you can get more leaves than that!" A little girl called out to her brother, who holding a pile about half the size of him."Sharena, this was your idea! Why don't you go find some?" He responded, dropping the pile once he was close enough."Because I'm a princess, and a princess never dirties her hands!" She shot back, sticking her tongue out at her bluenet brother."Doesn't a princess also help those in need?" He asked, smirking at her. She couldn't think of a good comeback for this statement, so she simply huffed, crossing her arms and beginning her search for more leaves. Alfonse couldn't help but laugh at his little sister's gesture, although he had to admit it was a step up from crying to their mother any time the two had a disagreement.Sharena seemed to have plenty of luck finding leaves, given her circumstances. Her and Alfonse were both still very young, and were not permitted to go outside of castle grounds without supervision, so she couldn't go very far in her search. She brought back a smaller, albeit efficient pile to combine with her brother's. The siblings put the two together, backing up to ensure a good jump. Alfonse counted to three, and they both ran, leaping to the pile, and just like that, it scattered in response to their jumping in. They remained in the middle, giggling away before deciding to make another one. They began working on the new pile when they heard something."Wait, what is that?" Sharena gasped, turning her head to her brother."I don't know..." Alfonse replied. "Keep your voice down so we can hear it better."
....Hoot... hoot...
An owl? During the daytime? It was certainly something the two were not familiar with. They tip toed around the yard, hoping to get closer to the source of the noise. It grew larger, and as they listened closely, they discovered that the owl sounded like it was injured. They eventually were stopped by the gate which blocked off anything outside of the castle, hindering their search. Alfonse retreated inside, hoping to find his mother and that she would help them look for the owl."Prince Alfonse, what has the queen told you and your sister about running in the castle?" He was stopped by a guard, who raised an eyebrow in suspicion."...that we're not to do such a thing." He sulked. "But it's urgent, Mr. Ketut! There's an owl outside and it sounds hurt!""I thought owls only appeared in the evening..." Ketut remarked."As did I, but that's irrelevant. Do you know where my mother is? Sharena and I want to go look for it, but we think it's outside of the castle...""Well, your mother is in a meeting at the moment, so unfortunately she will be unable to help you."Alfonse looked down helplessly, sniffling while he started walking back to tell Sharena."...however, if you feel it's important, she will not be needing me for a while, so I will accompany you and your sister." Ketut offered. "Now, where did the two of you discover this owl?"
The guard was led to the courtyard by Alfonse, where Sharena awaited them, eager to find this owl. The trio began their search around the castle's entrance, not having much luck. They then investigated the back of the castle.
...hoot...
"We're getting closer!" Sharena proclaimed, walking ahead."Yes, now please don't get too far ahead, Sharena. Your mother would have my head if something were to happen to you or Alfonse." Ketut warned cautiously, attempting to catch up with the energetic girl. They were stopped by the sound presenting itself again just behind them. They turned around to find just what the children had suspected lying on the ground. The creature was very small with white feathers, and the pain in its eyes was blatant. Sharena knelt down to get a better look at it, her brother joining her as the guard watched them. Alfonse carefully placed his hand in front of the owl in order to see if it would illicit a response. It simply moved its head closer to his hand, too injured to do anything else."What should we do?" Alfonse asked, turning to face Ketut."Well... for now we can take it back to the castle, but ultimately it's up to the queen to decide." He responded kneeling down to their level. "We'll need to have a cleric take a look at it first."Both of them cheered excitedly, each giving him a hug. Alfonse carefully took the owl into his hands and held it close as they returned to the castle, looking for a cleric upon entering.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sharena was quick on her feet. Despite Ketut urging her to slow down, she kept her pace, not wanting to waste any time in the group's search. She was soon stopped by a passerby, much to her dismay."Now, now, you know you're not supposed to be running in the castle, Sharena." A feminine voice declared from behind her, to which she turned around to find the source of this voice."Miss Aurora! Please help us!" Sharena begged, ignoring the woman's warning, who was revealed to be one of the clerics of the castle. Aurora walked towards the young girl, looking down at her."What is it? Are you hurt? Is your brother hurt?" She questioned worriedly, as Alfonse approached her with the owl in his arms. "Oh, what an adorable owl! But where did you find it?""Behind the castle." Ketut interjected. "The children were playing in the courtyard when they heard it from behind the gate. It seems to have suffered a nasty injury."Alfonse handed the owl over to Aurora, who examined it to determine the severity of its condition. "Well, it appears to have a broken wing." She explained. "I can use a staff to lessen the pain, but it will need some bandaging. I would suggest keeping it here for at least a few days, although I have a feeling you two want to keep it for longer than that." She hinted, smiling at the children. The group was dismissed after that, leaving her to tend to the owl's wing.The following day, Ketut brought Alfonse and Sharena to the castle's infirmary to check on the owl. Its wing was bandaged as Aurora said it would have to be, so its movement was still limited, but it could stand on its own and seemed to be happier than it was yesterday. Alfonse approached the table it stood on, holding his hand out to it much like he did when he found it the previous day. The owl noticed this, moving its head closer and nudging his hand with it. The young prince laughed at the sudden gesture, lifting a finger to pet its head."It seems to really like you, Alfonse." Ketut remarked, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder.Sharena walked over, wanting to see how it would respond to her. It did the same thing with her hand before walking back over to her brother. He put his hands out, and it walked onto them and sat on them. "I see you guys have managed to find Feh!" A voice said from behind them. They all turned to find Aurora entering the room, some materials in hand. "You'll be pleased to know that she's doing a lot better this morning.""You found out what she was and gave her a name? Seems to me you want to keep her." Ketut teased, smirking at the cleric."...That is not relevant." She protested.The group spent the rest of the morning with Feh before Aurora dismissed them to tend to her wing. There was a pumpkin harvest in town that the queen was to make an appearance at, and she had already been running late. Ketut escorted the children to the entrance of the castle, where she awaited them before her departure."Where have you two been? We're going to be late!" She exclaimed."It was my fault, milady Thaleia." He explained to her. "I took them to see the owl from yesterday and lost track of time. My apologies.""Fine, but do not let it happen again." She scowled, leading the children to the carriage that was outside for them.While the family was out, patrols continued in and around the castle. Ketut had been assigned to an outdoor area around the back, along with two other guards. They scoped the area, making sure nobody was sneaking into the castle uninvited. Nobody felt it was necessary, as there had never been an intruder from this area, but they were the queen's orders."Oh no..." One of the guards uttered, catching the attention of the other two. "That's just awful.""What is it?" Ketut questioned, approaching the guard. He looked down to find an owl flat on the ground with an arrow in her back, no mistaking her demise. She was much bigger than Feh, but she had similar coloring in her feathers."It must be Feh's mother..." He speculated. "She probably went out looking for her and that's when she was shot down."
|
10036760
|
7-Eleven
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Kunikida Doppo (Bungou Stray Dogs), Tayama Katai (Bungou Stray Dogs)",
"Fandom": "文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by hybridempress",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "1,500",
"Additional Tags": "Based on a Tumblr Post",
"Relationship": "Kunikida Doppo/Tayama Katai (Bungou Stray Dogs)",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“Okay, you stay out here and I-I’ll go inside and buy the stuff,” Katai instructed, gently pushing Kunikida towards the wall beside the entrance, being careful not to touch the parts of his skin that were bruised. “I don’t need to stay out here, Katai. It’s not that bad. If you go in there alone you’ll be in there for half an hour trying to work up the courage to talk to the cashier,” Kunikida protested, turning around and pushing Katai’s hands away from his back. “You look like you got the shit beat out of you! Like you did! If you go in there with me the cashier will be staring at us and he’ll probably ask us what happened and we’re kids so he’ll want to call my mom and-” Kunikida reached out and gripped both of Katai’s shoulders firmly. “Katai. Calm down,” he said sternly. “Come on, Doppo… You’ve already gotten into enough trouble today, just let me do this so we can go back home,” Katai pleaded. Kunikida let go of Katai’s shoulders and gripped his hand tightly. “We’re going in together,” he said. Before Katai could protest, Kunikida was already dragging him towards the glass door entrance of the old 7-Eleven store right next to the gas station at the end of block 5. Kunikida grabbed the door handle and swiftly pulled the door open. He pulled Katai forward, nearly sling-shotting him into the store. The cashier was the only other person in the store at the moment and, as Katai had feared, he was staring at the two of them quite intensely. They certainly were a sight to behold. Katai’s hair was messy, his jeans had holes in them and he looked like he hadn’t showered in three days. Kunikida’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail but matted with blood all the same, and his tank top revealed his bruised and scratched up arms and back. He had a black eye and a fat lip and his face was just as caked in blood as his hair was. All in all, they looked like a pair of delinquent kids who had definitely gotten up to some trouble before coming here tonight. Katai took a quick glance at the cashier before averting his gaze and quickly pulling Kunikida further into the store. He hid both of them among the shelves and busied himself with trying to find where the first-aid supplies were. He silently cursed himself for not making sure that he was stocked up before his mother went out of town for a business trip. While Katai was searching for the first-aid supplies, Kunikida decided to break away from him and go look for something to eat instead. He had found out today that Katai’s mother was away on a business trip and had already been gone for two days, and that meant that Katai hadn’t eaten a proper meal for two days. Granted, whatever he decided to pick up from the convenience store probably wouldn’t be a “proper” meal by his own standards, but at least it wouldn’t be a half-empty bag of barbeque flavored potato chips. “I didn’t want to bother you,” Katai had said, when Kunikida had asked earlier why he hadn’t bothered to mention that his mother was going to be away for a week. Kunikida had only sighed. He was surprised that Katai’s mother hadn’t called him personally to ask him to look after Katai while she was gone. She knew how useless her son was without someone there to motivate him. She scolded him for it day in and day out. Kunikida was the only other person who could convince him to do anything. He already took care of Katai at school all day. Taking care of him in the evening and on the weekends was no burden on his shoulders. He scanned the shelves of the food section before eventually deciding to pull two tom-yum flavored cup ramen packages down. Not the healthiest or most satisfying choice, but it would do for the time being. He was sure that he could scrounge up something else at Katai’s house if he dug deep enough into the kitchen pantry. By the time he had found and rejoined Katai by the shelves with the first-aid supplies, Katai had his arms full of different kinds of bandages and a tube of Neosporin. There was a role of cloth bandages, a couple different boxes of Band-Aids of different sizes, medical tape, and gauze pads. Kunikida sighed again. “Do we really need all of that? It’s just a few cuts and bruises,” he said. “Yes,” Katai said. The tone of his voice left no room for argument. He began to trudge towards the counter, and Kunikida followed behind him at an even pace. He dropped all of the first-aid supplies on the counter and then reached his hand into his back pocket to dig out the cash that he had stuffed into it before he and Kunikida had left his house to come here. Kunikida carefully set the cup ramens down on the counter and pulled his wallet out before Katai could manage to get his cash. He opened his wallet, pulled out his credit card, and waited patiently for the cashier to finish ringing up the items. “Did you find everything alright this evening, boys?” he asked as he scanned the boxes of Band-Aids. “Yes, sir. Thank you,” Kunikida replied. “...Are you boys okay yourselves?” the cashier inquired a few moments later. “Yes, sir, we’re fine,” Kunikida replied. “Is there anything that I can do for you? Do you need me to call a parent or a hospital or somethin’?” the cashier asked. “No!” Katai replied, his voice jumping about three octaves higher than normal. Kunikida elbowed his hip. “No, sir, but thank you. We’re heading right home after we buy these,” Kunikida said. “Alright, if you’re sure. But you boys be careful getting back home tonight, alright?” the cashier said. “We will, sir. Thank you,” Kunikida said. He handed his credit card to the cashier after the cashier had finished scanning all of the items. The cashier swiped Kunikida’s credit card and then waited for the receipt to print before handing it back to Kunikida. Kunikida placed the receipt and his card back into his wallet while the cashier stuffed the first-aid supplies and the ramen into a bag. He handed the bag off to Katai while Kunikida put his wallet back into his pocket. “Thank you, sir. Have a good night,” Kunikida said, waving to the cashier as he turned towards the store’s exit. “You’re welcome, boys. Have a good night,” the cashier said back with a smile. Kunikida pushed the door open once he was close enough to it, walking outside as the door swung open. He held the door open for Katai and waited for him to step outside before letting the door close. A slender calico cat darted behind Kunikida and Katai after the door was closed, momentarily brushing against Katai’s legs. Katai let out a frightened yelp and almost dropped the bag that he was carrying. Kunikida rolled his eyes. “It’s just a cat, dummy,” he said, pointing to the creature who was now rubbing itself against the brick wall of the store. Katai calmed down after he had gotten a good look at what the cat actually was. “Oh,” he said sheepishly. The neon glow of the 7-Eleven sign reflected in the lenses of both Katai’s and Kunikida’s glasses. It bathed the street in fluorescent light and gave off the eerie feeling that time was just a little bit slower here. Somehow those teenage boys had found themselves in a liminal space. “Come on, let’s go home,” Kunikida said, slipping his hand into Katai’s and carefully lacing their fingers together. He pulled his eyes away from the light-bathed street and looked at the reflection in Katai’s glasses instead. Katai simply nodded, looking away from the cat and meeting Kunikida’s gaze before they started to walk out of the parking lot together. “You could have let me pay for this stuff, you know. That’s why I brought money with me in the first place,” Katai mumbled as they walked. “No, it’s my fault we had to make this trip in the first place. It’s my responsibility to pay for the supplies,” Kunikida said. “But you only got into that fight because of me,” Katai protested. “Well, what else was I supposed to do? Sit there and let that dick keep pushing you around and calling you names? Fuck no. Nobody pushes you around and gets away with it,” Kunikida said, grunting angrily. “I can fight my own battles,” Katai said bluntly, frowning. Kunikida looked at him sidelong. “No you can’t,” he said. Katai sighed. “You’re right. I can’t.” “That’s why you have me,” Kunikida said, squeezing Katai’s hand a little tighter. Katai smiled softly and squeezed Kunikida’s hand back. “Yeah, that’s why I have you.”
|
10050095
|
Belongings
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by empathic siren [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2006-02-17T00:00:00",
"words": "3,483",
"Additional Tags": "Slash, Explicit Language, BDSM, Sexual Content, Drama",
"Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Title: BelongingsAuthor: Empathic SirenCategory: Romance/PWP/AURating: NC-17Pairings: SS/HPWarnings: BDSM; D/sDisclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The bizarre storyline is all mine.Summary: Harry learns to trust by learning to obey. Severus recognizes to whom he belongs. ________________________________________________________________________He stood there, naked and gleaming. A fine layer of perspiration covering his lithe body, he was adorned only by the thick leather bands tightly wrapped around his wrists and ankles. Their weight was heavy and foreign and as much comforting as disconcerting. His breath came in short pants. His hands were slightly tremulous. His eyes were bright and glassy, conveying equal parts fear and anticipation.The other joined him, sweeping through the room in billowing black robes. With a mercurial gleam in his eye, the other stood in front of him, loomed over him. Grasped firmly in the other’s hands was a black leather collar decorated with an intricate scrollwork of twisting silver serpents. Fingering the edge of the collar, the other stared into his eyes, stared into his soul. He broke his gaze away from the other, his eyes falling to the collar. Falling to the last mark of his enslavement. His breath became ragged, the perennial flush on his naked flesh became darker and more pronounced, as the other pressed the collar into his tremulous hands. “You must present this to me if you intend to give yourself to me. You must give yourself willingly. I will not give you the satisfaction of taking you against your will. You will bear the shame and humiliation of giving yourself to me freely and you will be grateful for it. You have five minutes to make your decision. If you choose to give yourself to me, then when I return, you will be on your knees, your hands outstretched in offering, with the collar resting in your palms. You will look me in the eye. However, if you cannot do this, if you are too weak, then you will leave the collar where you stand, you will leave and will not return. Am I clear?”At the nod of his head, the other swept away into another room. He looked at the collar in his hands. It was thick. Imposing. Permanent. “I do not want this,” he was screaming in his head. “I do not want this!” He told himself to leave, to drop the collar, to walk through the door to freedom. He could not give himself to the other, he could not. But even as his mind made the decision to leave, his traitorous knees began to sink to the floor. In that slow movement, he realized that he would not—that he could not leave. Silent tears streamed down his face as he felt his knees hit the smooth stone floor. He watched as his arms rose to reach out, his tremulous hands still palm up, the collar nestled in them and offered as a gift. He let out a small cry that had lodged in his throat. He knelt there, terrified of what he was doing but powerless to stop. He wanted this, oh how he wanted this. But he didn’t want this. He was scared of this, so absolutely terrified of this.At that moment, the other returned. He regarded the kneeling figure with unbridled lust, his glittering eyes sweeping over the flushed, smooth skin. As he knelt and held the gaze of the other, he resisted the urge to look away from the possessive stare. Wordlessly, the other plucked the collar from his hands and he allowed his arms to drop to his side. His breath was becoming more rapid, fine perspiration had become rivulets of sweat. The other moved behind him, collar still in hand. He felt the other kneel down and felt the knees of the other straddle his own. He waited. The anticipation was terrifying. Suddenly, he felt, rather than saw the collar. At the first touch of the collar to his bare neck, he began hyperventilating and flinched violently. He lurched forward and was stopped from falling only by the other’s swift arm snaking around his middle. The remaining hand holding the collar stilled and returned behind him. The other’s arm removed itself from his middle and touched his shoulder, squeezing in comfort. Familiar scents of cloves and bitter orange wafted through the air as the other leaned in and whispered lovingly in his ear “Harry, you need to calm down, Love.”The gentle words calmed him.“That’s right,” the other said, “Nice and easy. Take deep breaths, Harry. Do you remember your word?”Harry nodded violently.“Good, Love, good. Do you need to use it?”“I want--” began Harry, but the other interrupted.“No, Love, no. Remember, you use the word only if you need it. Do you need to say it?”“No,” croaked out Harry echoed by a whispered “no” in reaffirmation.The hand on Harry’s shoulder dropped to his hip and began making lazy circles there, causing Harry to shudder as licks of delight teased his insides. Contented for the moment Harry sighed.Taking his cue, the other murmured “Are you ready to start again?”“Yes,” said Harry softly, eyes closed and savoring the comfortable and familiar sounds and smells. The hand on his hip stilled and left. The collar returned to Harry’s throat once more. Harry’s breathing became more rapid, but he controlled it. “Shh Love, don’t think about it.” The other’s voice instructed. “That’s right, just give in. I promise you won’t regret this,” the other said as the end of the collar was threaded through the buckle.“That’s it, relax. Shhh. . . . Doesn’t it feel so good?” the other asked in soothing tones as he continued to pull the collar tighter against Harry’s soft flesh.As the pressure increased, Harry suddenly wanted to stop. He snapped his eyes open and looked around wildly as called out frantically “No, no, no, nooo!” and shook his head from side to side, attempting to scramble away from the collar.The other ignored him and continued to pull the collar as tight as he dared. He buckled it firmly in place and said “Shh, Love . . . it’s okay. See? All done. Doesn’t it feel wonderful? All done. Nothing to be frightened of.”As Harry’s breath began to even out again, and as his eyes fluttered closed, the other continued.“See? That’s right. . . . Enjoy it . . . Can’t change it now . . . Can’t take it off now . . . You belong to me now.”Harry moaned and arched his back as he heard the last of the other’s hypnotic words. “That’s right. It feels good . . . So good. . . Doesn’t it? You have given me such a beautiful gift. Enjoy it, Love . . . enjoy it.”With that, the other moved away and watched as Harry fell bonelessly onto his back.Harry writhed on the floor, assaulted by these new sensations. The smell of the leather filled his senses. The unyielding weight of the collar pressed against him in an oddly and possessively erotic way. And, Severus was right. It did feel so good. The collar had not trapped him, as he had feared for so long. Instead, it comforted him. It marked him. It showed the world that he had given himself, completely, to Severus and that Severus had accepted him and the responsibility for him. He belonged to Severus. He was free. And, he knew, as though he had never known it before, that Severus would cherish him—he would not abuse him or this trust so freely and completely given. These thoughts of love and comfort intertwined with the erotic feel of his marks of restraint. A wave of heat overtook him and his cock raised its proud head accordingly. Harry was now achingly hard.“So beautiful,” Harry heard. He opened his eyes and gazed at his husband, his lover, of five years. The rest of the world fell away in that moment. The only things that existed in that moment were Harry and Severus.Severus looked down at his beautiful husband, exquisitely marked and adorned as his. They had tried fulfilling this particular fantasy on a number of occasions, but had never been able to get past the collar. At first, Severus thought it had something to do with Harry’s neck—he thought perhaps that Harry was afraid the collar would choke him. He realized later, though, that the problem was what the collar represented to Harry. Harry was terrified of willingly giving himself and his trust freely and completely to another. What was worse was that Severus knew that Harry craved it, longed to do it, but simply could not. After all of the abuse and tragedy he had suffered, it was no wonder, but Severus knew that it was time to push past this particular boundary. He knew, even if Harry didn’t, that Harry was ready for this. Harry wanted this. Harry needed this. Still, though, he had taken great care, taking them out of the scene and sweetly, gently nudging Harry past his fear, nudging him to greater intimacy, nudging him closer to his own emotional power. The evidence of the Severus’s successful push lay in the writhing debauched body on the floor. As Harry’s erotic heat permeated Severus’s senses, he realized that it was time to get back into character.“You belong to me now,” Severus said in his most commanding voice. Harry’s writhing stopped, his breath hitched at the sound of Severus’s command.Severus stalked in slow, deliberate circles round and round Harry’s prone body. “Open your eyes!” he snapped.Harry complied immediately.“When I am inspecting you, my property, you will be painfully, achingly aware of my assessment. Have I made myself clear?”Harry nodded vigorously. At Severus’s arched brow, Harry hastily added “Yes. Yes, Sir.”Severus chose his next words carefully—it was time to find out if Harry was back into the scene and enjoying himself.“That’s a good little slut.”Harry moaned. Yes, Severus determined, Harry was back and ready to play.“What’s that? Do you like being called a slut? Because that’s what you are. A little slut who needs me to take a firm hand so you don’t accidentally fall into someone else’s hands. That’s why you’re marked. So that everyone will know that you belong to me.” During the humiliation, Harry’s eyes fluttered closed. His moaning, and writhing and mewing become louder, more pronounced, more wanton. “I know what you need, don’t I slut?”“Yes, Sir.”“Tell me, slut, what do you need?”“I . . . I . . .”“Tell me!”“I, I need you in me. Please, Sir, take me—claim me—make me yours.”“Is that what you need, slut? A reminder of to whom you belong?”“Yessssss,” hissed Harry as he wriggled his body in the direction of Severus’s honeyed voice.“Very well. Have you prepared yourself, slut?”“Yes, Sir.”“I do hope you were thorough,” said Severus as he parted his robes and knelt down in between Harry’s legs. He was as hard as Harry and knew that it would take every ounce of self-control he possessed to last longer than a few seconds. But, he would last, because this was for Harry. This was not for him.Severus entered Harry in one swift thrust. Harry screamed and scratched his fingers along the dungeon floor as the initial sharp sting of pain blossomed into deep, hot undulating pleasure. When Severus didn’t start moving right away, Harry indicated that he was ready. Still, Severus did not move. Frustrated, Harry started mewing and wriggling beneath him in an effort to spur movement. With a sharp slap to the side of Harry’s hip, Severus commanded “Stop moving, slut! Look at me and pay attention.” When he was sure he had Harry’s undivided attention, Severus continued “As you said, you need to be reminded of to whom you belong. Every time I thrust into you, I will remind you by saying ‘You are mine.’ You will remind yourself by saying ‘I am yours.’ If you fail to follow these directions, I will stop. Understand?”“Yes, Sir.”“Good, let’s see how well you can follow directions.” With that, Severus began to move inside of Harry in earnest. Starting slowly, a chorus of “You are mine” and “I am yours” greeted him at every thrust. He began to move faster. Harry was beginning to have difficulty keeping up. He found himself getting lost in the pleasure as Severus’s thrusts became deeper, faster, harder, sweeter. He lost focus as Severus relentlessly pounded into him, as the weight of the heavy collar at his throat reminded him of his status, as the smell of bitter orange, leather and sex intoxicated him. Harry began to falter. “I . . . I . . .” was all he could manage.“Focus, slut, or I will stop.”“I . . .” THRUST. “I . . .” THRUST. “ . . . yours.” THRUST. Harry was so close, so close. Just a few more thrusts and he was sure he would come untouched. So focused on his pleasure, was he, that he didn’t feel Severus slide out completely.“No!” Harry cried. “Please! No!”“I told you what would happen if you couldn’t follow my simple directions. You have no discipline. It’s a good thing you’re marked as mine—otherwise I couldn’t trust you out of these rooms.”“No, please, PLEASE. I can do it, please, let me try again. Please.” Harry pleaded.“You’ll get another chance to prove yourself. But right now, I think a little punishment is in order.”Harry’s breath caught in his throat.“You will stay where you are, on your back, legs spread wide and bent at the knee. You are not permitted to touch yourself, in fact, spread your arms straight out, hands facing palm down. Yes, just like that. Maybe you can follow directions after all. Until I return, you will practice. You will picture me moving in and out of you and you will say, out loud, ‘I am yours,’ followed by ‘I belong to you,’ with every thrust. I will know if you disobey me.”Harry nodded, his eyes shut tight already imagining Severus’s beautiful cock filling him and sliding in and out, in and out, “I am yours,” he said. “I belong to you,” he continued.When Severus returned thirty minutes later, Harry was drenched in perspiration, his eyes shut tight, his head moving from side to side feverishly, his hands clenching and unclenching, his cock standing proud and dribbling precum as it jerked now and then. Harry was murmuring “I am yours” and “I belong to you” at a frantic pace. Over and over and over again. Just as he had been instructed. Harry was so lost in subspace that he never heard Severus return, didn’t hear the rustle of his robes as he parted them and knelt in between Harry’s legs, and didn’t feel the return of his husband’s weight until he was fully sheathed inside of him.“I am yours . . . I belong to you . . . I—Oh God, Oh GOD, OH GOD,—AM YOURS!” Harry cried as Severus entered him for the second time that night. Remaining still, Severus waited for Harry to join him. Harry stilled and opened his eyes, blinking at Severus in anticipation.“Now then, let’s see how much you’ve learned.” With that, they began again. Harry’s tremulous tenor voice and Severus’s deep baritone punctuated Severus’s slow thrusts. They began moving faster. Harry stayed focused. Staring into Severus’s eyes, he continued his mantra, his voice meeting Severus at every thrust. Faster, harder, faster still. Severus could not control himself any longer and rammed hard into Harry one last time. As he came, filling Harry completely, he screamed “YOU ARE MINE!” at the same time Harry screamed “I AM YOURS!” Panting from the after shocks of a blinding orgasm, he pulled out of Harry, leaned over and swallowed Harry from head to root in one go. Harry gave a strangled cry of surprise before he was enveloped in white hot oblivion and came hard, screaming Severus’s name, followed closely by the words “I am yours” tumbling out over and over again until Harry was panting from exhaustion.They lay there together, in the afterglow, both still coming down from the most incredible sex they had ever had. When they had both recovered some, Severus sat up, said a few quick cleansing spells, and helped Harry sit up. Harry was far from lucid and flopped into Severus’s arms. Severus removed Harry’s restraints, saving the collar for last. When done, he carefully pulled Harry into his lap, embracing him protectively, as Harry trembled and lay against Severus’s chest.“How do you feel?”Bewildered and not quite able to grasp his own thoughts, Harry opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it again. He shook his head and took a shuddering breath. Severus watched as the complete spectrum of emotions flitted across Harry’s face. When Harry opened his mouth to try and speak, great racking sobs rushed out instead. Severus pulled him closer, rocking him gently to and fro. He had expected something like this. The scene was incredibly intense and extremely difficult for Harry, who had been pushed to the edge of his limits. Making it more difficult still for Harry was the fact that he typically controlled what happened in the bedroom. Even as a bottom, he had always topped. What had started out as an idle fantasy had obviously awakened deep-seeded feelings in Harry of which he had previously been unaware. As he sobbed in Severus’s arms, Severus comforted Harry with soothing words and soft, feathery kisses.“Shh, Love. That’s right, let it go. You are so beautiful. You did so well. That’s it, let it go.”A few minutes later, Harry pulled himself together and looked up at Severus with so much love and trust in his eyes that it took Severus’s breath away. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Harry had given him something that he had never given anyone—his complete and total trust. Severus swore silently to himself that he would protect that gift forever, no matter the cost. He squeezed Harry lightly and said again “You did so well. I am so proud of you.” Harry, still incapable of speech, grunted in affirmance and let his full body weight rest against Severus. Gathering Harry in his arms and standing, Severus said “Come Love, its time for your reward.”At Harry’s questioning stare, Severus chuckled and said “Yes, that was fun too, but now its time for me to show you just how much I love you.” He glided into the bathroom and, with a quick wave of one hand, started filling the sunken tub with warm water infused with fragrant oils. Severus sat Harry on the side of the tub and quickly undressed. When the tub was full, he carefully lowered Harry into the water and then slipped in behind him. Pulled close to Severus, Harry let his head rest against his husband’s chest. “That was . . . intense,” Harry whispered. “Shh, Love. Not a word. It’s my turn to show you how much I love you, remember?”Harry nodded and allowed Severus to take control once again. Severus gently washed Harry’s body with a soft caressing touch. When the bath was finished, he carefully pulled Harry out and dried him with a soft, thick towel. Grasping one of Harry’s hands in his, he led him to the bed and maneuvered him onto his stomach. He anointed him with oil by massaging it into his tender flesh, rolled him over and repeated the process. With that done, he made sure that Harry was still prepared, covered his cock with lubricant and slowly, gently entered Harry. With each lazy thrust, he gazed into Harry’s eyes and said softly “I love you, I love you, I love you.”His hands still coated in oil, Severus lovingly stroked Harry. Their climaxes were like gentle kisses rather than the crashing waves of before. Rather than screams, they both moaned and indicated the end with contented sighs.They stayed coupled for a while, just staring into each other’s eyes. As Harry’s eyes began to droop, Severus pulled out, muttered a few cleansing spells and rolled onto his side, spooning Harry. He pulled the covers over them and watched as Harry fell into a light slumber. Severus stared at Harry and wondered again why and how such an exquisite creature had chosen him, had marked him as his Love, his own. Harry had claimed him. He belonged to Harry. As Harry drifted off to sleep, Severus carded one hand through Harry’s soft hair, while the other snaked around his middle, pulling him closer as he whispered in Harry’s ear “I belong to you. I am yours. I am yours. I am yours.” The last thing Severus heard before drifting off to sleep was Harry’s sleep thick voice whispering softly, “You are mine.” --fin--
|
10020383
|
Ocean Air
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Akutagawa Ryuunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs)",
"Fandom": "文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by WyldOctober",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "2,358",
"Additional Tags": "Suicidal Thoughts, Not Really Character Death, merman au, shin soukoku",
"Relationship": "Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs)",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "Shin Soukoku Week 2017",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
There was a high section of a rocky outcrop, which hung out over the water, from which the ocean looked nothing but clear, aqua blue. The kind of blue where you could taste the wetness of the word on your tongue, and suddenly understand where
aqua
came from. It was a breathtaking place, far enough above the water that you felt as if you were miles above the world, at the whim of the sun and sea air.
On sunny days, when the sky was clear, light would glitter off the water's surface and shine straight down to the sands below. From the perch on the outcrop, one could look down at the fish darting to and fro, and the seaweed swaying in the currents. Nature itself became overwhelmingly mystical when viewed from such an angle, like one could step from the rock straight into some magical land.
Akutagawa had always considered that this would be a good place to die. One last look over the horizon, the cotton candy clouds and the blinding sunlight painted across the ocean's surface in streaks of color. It was beautiful and simple, the air was clean and there was no sound but the lapping of the waves on the rocks. He couldn't remember when he had decided he would die here, just that he had.
The hospital bracelet resting limply around his wrist marked his fifth visit to the emergency room in two months . His diagnosis hadn't been good to begin with, but even the doctors seemed unnerved by how quickly he was deteriorating. Treatment options had been pressed into his arms like unwanted gifts until his thoughts were a mantra of medical terms he didn't understand. He was very tired, and very sick of being sick.
Akutagawa breathed in deeply, drinking in the sharp ocean air and letting it fill his failing lungs as much as they would allow. The crispness of the morning was invigorating, he felt as though he could run a marathon and then back home before breakfast.
He couldn't. The spell would be broken as soon as he stepped from this very spot, but here, in this place, he felt
alive
.
It was why he wanted to die here. Not in some sterilized hospital bed, surrounded by pulsing machines and his fretting sister. If he had to die ( and he had to, there was no way to save his life now ) then he wanted to die feeling alive.
He stretched his arms out on either side, as far as they would go, like at any moment the breeze would lift him up and carry him far, far away. There was a placid calmness to accepting his mortality, and the control he had over it. Akutagawa exhaled slowly, and then took two steps over the edge of the outcrop.
Gravity took him from there.
Down he plummeted, through the air and then straight into the water below. The force of his body hitting the water shocked the breath from his parted lips, and the cold took the rest from his lungs. Bubbles escaped his mouth, flying towards the surface as his limp body sunk into the clear blue water. It was surreal. The fathomless depths stretched beneath him, and he could see down, down, down into the empty blue of the ocean. But around him, there was life, in flora and fauna alike.
He twisted his body, as if he meant to rest his back on the shadow of the ocean floor, gazing up at the surface lights glittering overhead. A school of fish darted across his vision. The sunlight danced over the waves.
He had been right, this was a good way to die. The feeling of his lungs constricting was familiar, unobtrusive, and so all there was was the blueness of the water and his fading consciousness. In a way, it was almost like going to sleep. He was drifting away into a cool darkness. It was peaceful.
From the corner of his eye, Akutagawa registered some kind of movement in the water. Something large, and swift, though he couldn't quite make out what through his fading vision. His mind, growing hazier as seconds ticked by, provided an image of a shark.
Ah.
Akutagawa thought.
Fuck.
Well, he supposed he had brought it on himself. A corpse in the ocean was sure to attract hungry marine life, and he'd considered more than once that he may end up a mangled mess on the seafloor. It hadn't bothered him at the time, but he had also rather been counting on the mangling happening after he was dead.
The pain in his lungs was one thing, but being eaten alive seemed particularly unpleasant. Maybe this was God punishing him for the sin of taking his own life.
For some reason, his oxygen-deprived brain found this thought particularly funny, and another cloud of bubbles escaped his lips. It might have been a laugh if he were above the water, or maybe just a sigh. His vision was nothing but a blur of light, and his thoughts were shutting off one by one, like candles flickering out. Maybe being eaten alive wasn't in his future after all.
In his growing delirium, Akutagawa swore he felt something tugging on the collar of his shirt. Then, something touching his face. The feeling was distant, the numbness in his body spreading, turning his senses into pleasant nothingness. He was drifting away, the light was blinking out and soon he would cease to be, confined to a watery tomb of his own choosing.
Except, the darkness did not swallow him. It hovered, a pinprick of light still visible in the distance, and then to his astonishment it began to recede. Could death be that swift? The transition between this life and whatever came next truly so easy? It was still cold, his body still felt far away, but his vision was slowly coming back into focus.
Akutagawa's eyes flickered open, drowsy, blinking for clarity, and there before him was a face. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating, until feeling began to return to his body and he recognized the pressure of hands on his cheeks. His eyes flew wide, mouth opening to shout in surprise and releasing a slew of bubbles instead.
The face scowled, and its owner dove forward and pressed their mouths together. Even if he'd tried, Akutagawa couldn't have struggled. His body felt heavy, limbs tingling, and however deep into the water he had drifted it had become numbingly cold.
And then, he realized he was breathing. Akutagawa's thoughts stopped immediately, still sluggish and trying to collect themselves, trying to process this. Surely, he must be hallucinating, imagining the feeling of it-- But, no. He was.
He
was
breathing.
On land his breaths were shallow things that rattled his chest and drew long, harsh coughs from his lungs. Breathing had been painful for years, agonizing as of late, to the point the oxygen mask in the emergency room had become something of a dear friend. And yet, he was breathing now. Far beneath the water, breath was filling his lungs, making them expand and contract as if they functioned perfectly.
He could physically
feel
the oxygen rushing to his brain. Clarity came like a tidal wave of thoughts and sensations.
There was something swaying in the water, his eyes registered it as an undulating presence that moved with unnerving elegance. He focused on it until it became clear, and a chill carried through him as he recognized the dorsal fin of a shark. Akutagawa drew his eyes up along the curve of the fin, along the swaying tail, until he realized that it disappeared before it ever became a full shark.
It was connected, instead, to the young man kissing air into his lungs. Akutagawa blinked.
I've died. I've died and gone to a very peculiar sort of heaven. Or perhaps hell?
The merman ( he had to be a merman, hadn't he? ) disconnected their lips, drawing back far enough he could scope critical eyes over his face.
Heaven.
Akutagawa heard his thoughts conclude.
He was distressingly pretty, his would-be savior. Though his body spoke of a fearsome predator, he had a kind, worried face. His eyes were the same tarnished yellow of gold coins, and his hair was as milky as his skin. The curve of his mouth was cherubic, and there was something about the pure
worry
creasing his brow that made Akutagawa want to wipe all concerns from his mind.
Then he kissed him again.
This time, Akutagawa pressed back as best he could, hands fumbling for purchase on the merman's thin shoulders. He was cool to the touch, skin slick, but nothing had ever felt more
real
in his life. The merman exhaled into his mouth, forcing breath into his lungs. Akutagawa accepted greedily.
He couldn't remember a time, not one moment, in his life where he had breathed easily. It had always been a struggle, a journey between one breath and the next. Sometimes he didn't sleep, afraid if he let himself rest his body would simply forget to draw in a breath. The taste of the air in his lungs had always been tinged with copper, blood wetting his tongue between rancid, choking breaths.
This was pure. This breath, shared between his mouth and the merman's, was clean and free of pain. It felt like his whole body was being cleansed of the things that ailed it. He could taste salt on the tip of his tongue, feel the ocean current in his belly, and for a moment he swore he heard the waves singing against his ears.
Again, the merman drew away. This time his hands fell from Akutagawa's cheeks, arms linking around his middle instead. The merman twisted his body, pulling Akutagawa forward against his chest as his powerful tail swung through the water. They were moving, and though he had no sense of direction, Akutagawa could only guess it was towards the shore.
He didn't want to go ashore, he didn't want to leave the water. He chased the merman's mouth, delighted when his lips parted and he breathed for the both of them. The feeling of it was addictive, better than the pure oxygen from the mask in the ER, better than any high from painkillers he'd had to take when his coughing grew too painful. It might have been the feeling of breathing without effort, or it might have been the merman's soft lips on his own, he wasn't sure. Did it matter?
The ocean dragged by, fish and seaweed brushing against them as the merman swam. Somewhere along the way, Akutagawa's arms wrapped themselves around his neck, the fingers of one hand tangling into his creamy hair. It was silken to the touch, and the merman laughed into his mouth every time his fingers brushed the back of his neck.
Akutagawa had never felt so dizzingly infatuated in his life.
Abruptly, the shallows rushed to meet them. Their heads broke the surface at the same time as their mouths disconnected, and Akutagawa was greeted by a mouthful of seawater. He choked and spluttered as the merman dragged them both higher along the sand, until the water only came high enough to cover their waists.
Akutagawa shook his head and tried to breath, but the air stuck in his throat. He coughed. Once, then twice, and then many more times after until his body was shaking with the need to breathe. He wiped his mouth once the coughing subsided and tried to breathe again.
Oxygen burned from his mouth to his lungs. He could taste the impurities, the chemicals, the city smog. Each breath was sour, painful, and abrupt.
He raised his head in time to see the merman drawing back towards the water. Panic gripped him.
"Wait!" he rasped, snatching at the merman's wrist. "Wait-- Please, don't go--!"
His lungs rebelled, rejecting his attempts to breathe and speak like anyone else might be capable of. Shoulders hunched, he dissolved into another coughing fit, more painful than the last. He lost his grip on the merman, the need to clutch at his own throat too great.
A hand rested gently on his knee.
"You can't do that again." the merman said. His voice was soft, soothing. Like a summer breeze. "If you do, I'll save you again."
Akutagawa raised his eyes, mouth still covered by his trembling hand. Pain flickered over the merman's face and he leaned a little closer.
"
Please
." he pleaded. "I can't do that again. If I do it too much, you'll never be able to come back up."
Akutagawa's hand found the merman's beneath the water. He slid their fingers together, relishing how easily they locked into one another, like they'd been made to fit.
"But," he breathed. "You'll do it again?"
The merman nodded earnestly.
"Every time."
He ducked forward, and this time the kiss he pressed to Akutagawa's bloodied lips had nothing to do with a need to breathe. He slipped away, back into the incoming tide, until he was drawn away into the sea.
For a while, Akutagawa sat there in the shallows, soaked to the bone and watching the waves.
One week later, Akutagawa stood on the rock outcrop, staring out over the clearness of the sea. Pale lips were parted to drag rattling breaths into his throat, half of which never made it to his lungs. Breathing grew more painful by the day, the rot of the open air pungent on his tongue. Tap water had begun to taste like sewage, cooked meat was all tasteless leather, the inside of his mouth felt like sandpaper.
He had stood there, on the edge of the rock outcrop, every morning. The same pattern repeated every day, each incarnation of it lasting a little longer than the one before. One day, he would not resurface.
Far below, a white dorsal fin broke the surface. Through the glassy water, Akutagawa could make out the shape of a circling body, twisting in figure-eights, just out of sight.
Akutagawa smiled and stepped off the edge.
|
10098311
|
Comforts in the Night
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Rape/Non-Con",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Harry Potter, Sirius Black",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by LdyBastet",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2006-05-23T00:00:00",
"words": "1,561",
"Additional Tags": "Chan, Sexual Content, Angst, Tragedy",
"Relationship": "Harry Potter/Other(s)",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom, The Quidditch Pitch",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Warnings: Non-con, adult having sex with a minorDisclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling, no copyright infringement is intended. I play with them in my head and for fun; not earning money from sharing it with fanfic readers.Note: cate had non-con Harry/Sirius listed on her wish-list for Xmas... and while talking to her, I managed to find out that she likes when Sirius is a bit crazy after Azkaban, and uses Harry because of that. So with these clues, I wrote this.
~*~
Comforts in the night
The night was quiet. Or as quiet as it could be with Ron's snores reverberating through the room. It still felt odd to Harry, to spend his time in this old house, but it was infinitely better than being cooped up at Privet Drive. Here, he had his friends (even if he was still angry at them for not ignoring Dumbledore and sending him an owl anyway,) and he had Sirius. And when he was lying awake like this, Ron's snoring was oddly comforting, something that brought back memories of safe and uncomplicated nights at Hogwarts.It didn't seem like sleep would come back though, so Harry pushed the covers to the side and got out of bed. He pulled on the sweater that Molly had made for him over the pyjamas and went over to the door, unlocking it. With a last look over his shoulder, making sure that Ron wasn't stirring, Harry opened the door and slipped out into the corridor.He tiptoed down the direction of Sirius' room. His godfather had pointed it out to him soon after his arrival, and told him that he was free to barge in anytime he wanted to talk. This was anytime. Harry was sure that even if Molly would find it highly inappropriate to go visit someone in the middle of the night, Sirius wouldn't mind.Because he didn't want to wake up anyone else, Harry knocked lightly and then tried the door handle. The door opened, and Harry sneaked inside, pushing it closed behind him with a click."Sirius?" Harry whispered into the dark. The moon was shining into the room, it's light filtered by the old lace curtains in front of the window. It made a faint and blurry lace pattern form on the floor. There was a movement in the bed and a creaking of the mattress as Sirius sat up."Harry? Is that you?""Yeah, I..." Harry moved closer. "I couldn't sleep and wanted to see you. If that's okay?""Of course." Sirius' voice was a little hoarse and he cleared his throat. "Can I get you anything? Milk? Cookies... some chocolate perhaps?""Nah, it's okay. I think I mostly just wanted to talk to you." Harry smiled and sat down on the bed."I get those sleepless nights sometimes, too. There's simply too many thoughts and no one around to share them with," Sirius said, a little sadly, thought Harry."Exactly!" There were some things that Harry felt that neither Ron nor Hermione could understand, and some things that he just didn't want to talk to them about. Private things, personal issues, things that were none of their business."You can talk to me, Harry..." Sirius reached out and patted Harry on the knee. "You're shivering! Come, slip under the cover."Harry hadn't noticed it, but the room was rather cold, so he was grateful for snuggling close to Sirius in the warm bed. Sirius put his arms around Harry and pulled him close. They lay like that for a while, in silence."I think we understand each other better than anyone else does." Sirius whispered. "You know what it's like to be cold inside and lonely, with nothing to look forward to, not allowed to feel any joy or have anything that means something to you. I know that the Dursleys aren't Azkaban, but for a young boy it could just as well have been."Harry nodded. "I'm glad I'm here with you now. I wish I didn't have to go back to them next summer.""Yes, you can stay here. We'll be close, keep each other company, talk, laugh, do fun things together..." Sirius hugged Harry closer. "I can talk to you... You'd understand what I mean, not just brush it aside. You've always been someone I can confide in, been my best friend.""Sirius?""Shh!" Sirius kissed his cheek. "Everything's going to be fine. You're with me. We have each other..."Harry wasn't sure what Sirius meant and he hadn't been prepared for the show of affection. It was creeping him out slightly. "Maybe I should go back to my own bed?""No, no. Stay. It's warmer like this. This is good." Sirius' hand glided over Harry's chest, coming to rest just below his navel. He kissed Harry again, this time on the side of his neck, just below the ear."Sirius!" Harry whispered as loudly as he dared. This was not how he wanted to be found, entangled in Sirius' arms, in his bed, if Molly woke up."It's fine, really. We need each other, Harry. You're so good to me." Harry shivered slightly as Sirius' lips moved against his skin. He placed his hand on Sirius' and tried to push it away."Well, I... I like you Sirius. You mean a lot to me." He tried to sound calm, even though his heart was racing. Something was wrong with Sirius, he was acting so strangely. And Harry really didn't feel comfortable with how that hand, instead of moving away, moved downward. He squirmed away from Sirius, only to find himself trapped by one of Sirius' legs, holding down one of his own.Harry let go of Sirius' hand and pushed at the man's shoulder instead. "Sirius, stop this!""No, you don't really mean that." Sirius' voice was hoarse again, and not from sleep this time, as Harry realised when he felt Sirius' erection pressed against his hip. "It'll be good, I promise. Just like before, like it was when we were in school."When they were in school? What was he talking about? Harry couldn't make any sense out of it, and he felt as if someone had just hexed a large block of ice into his stomach. Then the bed shifted and he was pinned down by the weight of Sirius' body."No. Nononono, Sirius, please no..." Harry's plea was cut short by Sirius' mouth, as it clamped down on his. Sirius took advantage of Harry's parted lips and pushed his tongue between them, kissing him deeply.Harry tried to pull Sirius off him, but couldn't get a hold, his hands meeting nothing but naked skin. Why hadn't he noticed earlier that Sirius slept in the nude? As he continued to squirm, Sirius moaned, the movements causing quite a bit of friction.When Sirius finally broke the kiss, Harry was much too occupied with catching his breath, getting some much-needed oxygen, to protest again. Then it was too late, as Sirius' tongue once again invaded his mouth. Firm hands slid over his body, in under his pyjamas, and then pulled his pants down and off him, Sirius shifting slightly over to one side to make it possible.Harry made muffled noises as Sirius' hands moved over his naked thighs, then between them. This just couldn't be happening; it was a bad dream, a nightmare! He took a deep breath again as Sirius whispered some charm that Harry didn't recognise, then something cold spread inside him, in his arse. Something cold and ... wet?Pain flared through him, almost paralysing him, when Sirius' hard cock pushed inside him. It felt as if he was being torn in half, the pain was just so bad. Harry felt as if he couldn't breathe anymore, and his entire body tried to knot up, curl into a ball. Harry could hear Sirius groan deeply, then whispered words reached his ears."You're so tight. So perfect." Sirius thrust into Harry, moaning and panting. "Merlin! Yes."The pain throbbed inside Harry. It was a little less after the shock of the initial intrusion, but not by much. It was awful, and he felt sick. He was whimpering, but had stopped trying to get away. There was no way he could fight Sirius off anyway, being pinned down and ... penetrated as he was.It felt like an eternity before Sirius moaned loudly, arching up and back a little, his hips thrusting erratically against Harry's body. Harry felt something hot inside him suddenly, and knew what had happened. Sirius had come. Inside him. The man relaxed back on top of him and kissed him softly, then leaned his forehead against Harry's shoulder.Harry was silent. He didn't know what to say, or what to do, and both his mind and body felt odd, far away. So he just lay there, on his back, as Sirius pulled out of him and settled on his side, snuggling up to Harry and held him close."You're so good to me." Sirius mumbled and kissed his neck. "I love you, James." He relaxed and was soon asleep.Harry didn't sleep though. He lay awake until the sun rose, crying bitter tears for himself, for what had just happened, and for Sirius, as he now realised what Azkaban and loneliness had done to his godfather's mind.
|
10034852
|
In The Great Hall
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by CS_WhiteWolf",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2005-04-13T00:00:00",
"words": "1,589",
"Additional Tags": "Slash, Sexual Content, Romance",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
In The Great Hall
- - -Rating(s): R/18-Rated.Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/ Harry Potter.Warning(s): None. Sequel to: In The LibraryDedication: To Aurora, my slave driver, best friend and half-sister, for without her this would most likely not have been written for a long while, if ever! So kudos to her! - - - It was one of the craziest things he had ever done- well, perhaps not the craziest, but it came pretty close. After the incident “In The Library”- as it had been dubbed- it was only to be expected that he would seek his retribution. What was crazy about the whole thing was his actual plan of revenge- the when (during dinner) and the where (in the Great Hall).He had managed to procure Harry’s invisibility cloak after some coercing, only on the condition that he keep his revenge “within reason”. Naturally, Draco had agreed to Harry’s terms, for in his mind, ‘out of reason’ would be shagging Harry up against the Potion Master’s desk, during one of the man’s classes, not say, giving him a blowjob in the Great Hall during dinnertime. The blond smirked as he seated himself; the threat of his impending revenge had made Harry both fearful and excited about the inevitable encounter. So of course, Draco had kept the other boy on tenterhooks for just over a week until the novelty of the threat had worn off and Harry had begun to let his guard down. Not the smartest of things to do when your lover was Draco Malfoy of all people. And so it was that one blissfully unaware Harry Potter- now sitting in his usual seat at the Gryffindor table- that was about to receive the blowjob of his life, and he couldn’t do a thing about it for being who he was, Harry couldn’t so much as sneeze in the wrong way without having at least half of Hogwarts population swivelling towards him so fast you could practically hear their necks cricking. Draco grinned rather evilly from his position under the Gryffindor table. Harry’s invisibility cloak wrapped about him like a second skin (with a little help from a Sticking Charms) and Harry’s slightly parted legs directly before him. The hall began to quieten as Dumbledore stood to make his customary speech- but Draco waited.The groaning of tables signalled the appearance of food- Draco waited. The Gryffindors started nattering on about whatever it was they nattered on about- still Draco waited. It was only when the Golden Trio began a conversation of their own that Draco decided the time was ripe to strike. He licked his lips, eyes sparkling with barely suppressed glee as he reached out his arms, beginning to skim his hands lightly up the material of Harry’s trousers- the touch was not enough to cause the Gryffindor to flinch away in shock, but it was enough to let him know that there was someone under the table, that someone was about to grope the hell out of him, and that that someone was Draco Malfoy, and that the Slytherin had finally picked the time and place for his reprisal. Harry’s leg twitched, pressing more fully into the hovering hands. “You can’t be serious!” Draco heard the Gryffindor groan halfway through the Granger girl’s tirade about something or other; he could almost imagine Harry with his head in his hands. Granger gave an indignant snort, “I’d have thought you’d take this a little more seriously, Harry! After all, teaching the DA Lubrication Charms was your idea; no one would have thought to use such a spell to slip out of a Death Eater’s hold. Though how on earth you came across that spell I’ll never know!”Draco stilled his hands, knowing- just knowing that the Gryffindor had to be blushing a delicate shade of pink right now. He grinned, he’d be blushing a lot darker than that once Draco was through with him. He vaguely wondered where on earth the Gryffindor had found a lubrication spell… especially one strong enough to cover a whole person? Draco grimaced at the thought of being covered in the oily substance before turning his attention back to the slightly struggling Gryffindor.‘Let’s see him keep this quiet.’ He thought evilly, holding fast to the dark-haired boy’s legs as Harry shook them slightly, trying to dislodge Draco’s hands, but the blond was not about to relinquish his prey so easily.He waited until the other boy had stilled his movements before quickly releasing one of his legs, hurriedly grabbing inside his robes for his wand. Before Harry had even registered that at least one of his limbs was free, Draco had him zapped with a Sticking Charms (he really was rather nifty at these things). The spell forced one of Harry’s feet to glue itself to the floor whilst he spread the other one further apart before sticking that one down too. Draco sat back, careful not to bump his head, as he admired his handiwork- in the form of Harry’s spread thighs and an obviously already semi-erect bulge protruding up beneath the Gryffindor’s robes. The blond grinned. It seemed someone was already enjoying this despite the circumstances. Deciding not to give the Gryffindor time to even think about how he was going to get away, Draco reached out and with nimble fingers had Harry’s robes pulled open, his trousers unzipped and one happy-to-see-you erection in his hand. ‘Must be wash day,’ Draco mused momentarily over the lack of underwear before leaning forward and flicking his tongue experimentally over the head of Harry’s cock, watching as it gave a little twitch of appreciation, straining upwards in an attempt to receive some attention. The Slytherin gladly obliged, lapping at the swollen head, his tongue running in lazy circles before licking at the seeping slit, tasting the salty essence of Harry’s pre-come. One of Harry’s hands appeared under the table, grasping a space of bench beside him, his knuckles whitening with the strength of the grim. Draco swiped his tongue across the head once more before slipping as much of the other boy’s member into his mouth; almost positive he heard the Gryffindor’s breath hitch as a result. Slowly at first, the blond moved his head up and down the length, a hand fisting what he couldn’t take in time to his movements. His tongue rubbed along the underside of Harry’s member, running up and down the thick vein, taking more and more of the other boy into his mouth as he could, until the tip of Harry’s cock brushed against the back of his throat. Draco swallowed against the intrusion, thankful that the sticking spell prevented the Gryffindor from thrusting as well and hitting his gag reflex. Swallowing a few more times, the blond allowed for the retracting muscles of his throat to massage the head of Harry’s cock before carefully pulling away, sucking as he did so until he was back at the tip, lingering there a moment before letting it slip out his mouth with a quiet pop. Harry’s hand reached out blindly towards him, but Draco caught it with one of his own, entwining his fingers even as he blew gently across the once again weeping tip. Harry’s hand clenched against his own, nails digging painfully into Draco’s flesh, going so far as to split the skin. Draco ignored that however as he began fisting Harry’s member, squeezing gently as he moved from base to tip back to base and back up to tip, swiping his thumb across the slit and doing it all over again- he felt Harry’s legs shaking, his cock weeping heavily now, he was close. Harry suddenly tugged at Draco’s hand, releasing his steely grip and pulling his hand back up- no doubt to cover his mouth and try to stifle the groans his impending orgasm was about to bring him. Poor guy- Harry had always been a screamer. “Harry, are you sure you’re feeling alright? You’re all flushed, perhaps you should go see Madame Pomfrey?” Granger’s worried voice broke through the babble of the Gryffindors. With a rather sadistic glint in his eye, Draco refused to give the boy a chance to reply as he attacked Harry’s member with renewed vigour- sucking harder at the erect length, though careful to keep his teeth cushioned behind his lips, he slipped the hand not holding Harry’s cock in place between the other boy’s legs, touching at his balls, rolling them in his hand, fondling them until he felt Harry still, his body freezing momentarily before orgasm ripped though him- his seed spilling forth into Draco’s waiting mouth. “Harry!” That was Weasley’s voice. Draco let Harry’s now limp member slip from his mouth as he pulled out a silken handkerchief from his mouth and dabbed lightly at his mouth before wiping Harry off and beginning to tuck him away. He half listened to disturbance above, gleaning that Harry had just begun choking on a bread roll. The blond smirked as he finally removed his wand and cast a quiet “Finite Incantatem” on Harry’s legs, his smirk only widening as the watched the boy immediately scramble off the bench and shakily stand to his feet, his voice hoarse as he made his excuses to his friends- telling them he needed a lie down before fleeing the hall. Draco congratulated himself on a job well done. Now all he had to do was wait for dinner to end so he could leave, go find Harry, and gloat. - - -Fin. - - -
|
10075688
|
To Comfort
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Asriel, chara - Character, Asgore, Toriel",
"Fandom": "Undertale",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by orphan_account",
"chapters": "1/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00",
"words": "393",
"Additional Tags": "Undertale AU, Terror, Fear, Dread, Asriel is terrified, everyone else is too",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Asriel could sense panic. Fear. He was frozen in place, panic attatching to him and quickly overwhelming him as well. His normally perked, yet born droopy and to the sides, the goat ears were literally dripping, it smelled and felt like fur, but to him, it burned onto him like acid. He was in this state of immense pain, he wanted to be cradled and told that everything was okay. That everything was just a bad dream, and he'd wake up and go eat pie with Chara, Mom and Dad. They'd be a big, whole and happily family. His eyes felt pressure building up on them, air holding tight in his throat and chest as he tried not to cry. It hurts. His chest hurts. He hurts. Everything hurts. He wants to go home. He's scared. He wants to scream for his mom. Scream for help. Call for help. Shout until his dad is here to save the day. Yell until his sibling defended him. A hiccup came from his throat, and he felt saliva building up under his tongue. Asriel started to cry, feeling the warm tears travel onto his cheeks and wetting his fur. He couldn't see. He could barely hear. He doesn't know what is going on. He's terrified. A lurching feeling started in his stomach, disgusting bile traveling up his throat, through his mouth and onto what he thought was the ground. He felt numb. He couldn't feel anymore.He couldn't even tell if he was standing up anymore. Everything was terrifying. No matter which way he looked and no matter how hard he tried to listen, he could barely hear anything, much less see. Shadows were cutting deeper. It was too scary. He screamed for help. He couldn't hear himself. He doesn't even know if he screamed or not. It was painful. It felt like constant acid burning into his skin. His throat was burning, feeling like someone is just strangling him while already having an injured throat, like they would not let go. He felt himself breathing shaky breaths. Quick breaths. He could hear himself again. He felt panic and worry around him. Fear. Asriel was scared. He felt himself crying. He could feel his whole body again, itching with the stinging pins and needles. He was breathing. He was alive. He was alive.
He was alive.
|
10039070
|
Tacos
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Multi",
"Characters": "Leo Valdez, Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang",
"Fandom": "Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Scarletbat",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "337",
"Additional Tags": "Mpreg, Its raining tacos",
"Relationship": "Hazel Levesque/Leo Valdez/Frank Zhang",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Okay they were ready for anything cravings, mood swings, spontaneous flames, anything.
Wrong. As. Fuck.
“Apparently with a spark of life came an inferno of Lust.
“Leo what are you doing?” Frank asked completely flustered as the son of Hephaestus nipped at his collar bone.
“What's it look like? I'm trying to get you to sleep with me!” Leo said and Frank choked on air, normally he'd be the first to accept Leo's offer but he was 6 months pregnant and hormonal.
“Firebug no get off.” Frank said sternly pushing Leo off and the Latino pouted and that quickly turned into a look of hurt.
“You don't want me anymore!” Leo accused and Frank sighed.
“Yes I do believe me I do.” Frank snorted and Leo threw a pillow at him.
“Then why won't you fucking touch me!” Oh shit Leo was angry and that's never good especially when he feels lonely.
“Firebug ,me and Haze just wanted to make sure we didn't hurt the baby we never meant to neglect you in any way.” Frank said softly and Leo pouted
“It still sucks.”
“Don't worry I'll make it up to you.” Frank promised and Leo rolled his eyes.
“How you giant teddy bear?” Leo asked and Frank smiled.
“Tacos.”
-----
2 hours later
Hazel was tired Reyna meant business when she said the romans were gonna work hard that day and needles to say, Hazel felt very sorry for the next fool who stole her lunch.
“Frankie, Firebug I'm home!” Hazel said but when no one came she got suspicious.
Walking towards the bedroom Hazel raised an eyebrow at the bright light of the computer shining.
‘ What the… I'm the only one who uses that thing.’
Hazel thought and as she opened the door and smiled.
Leo was happily sitting on Frank's lap munching on a Taco with Jelly beans and whipped cream, it's raining tacos blaring loudly.
“Maybe I need these two alone more often……” Hazel hummed until the computer suddenly burst into flames.
“Or not.”
|
10057901
|
Podfic The End of Fear
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/F",
"Characters": "Pearl (Steven Universe), Rose Quartz (Steven Universe)",
"Fandom": "Steven Universe (Cartoon)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Hananobira",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00",
"words": "45",
"Additional Tags": "Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic, Podfic Length: 0-10 Minutes, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: M4B, Awesome Ladies Podfic Anthology VII",
"Relationship": "Pearl/Rose Quartz (Steven Universe)",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "Awesome Ladies Podfic Anthology VII",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Notes and acknowledgements: THANK YOU, AWESOME LADIES MODS!!! I'm so excited to listen to everyone's podfic.This podfic was recorded for Awesome Ladies Podfic Anthology VII.Original Fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4679498Length: 00:02:35Paraka: MP3 (4 MB) or M4B (3 MB)
|
10080677
|
Strange Neighbors
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/F",
"Characters": "Kat Loving, Rebecca Blithely",
"Fandom": "Strange Empire (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Keziah",
"chapters": "3/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00",
"words": "3,122",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Modern Setting",
"Relationship": "Rebecca Blithely/Kat Loving",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“Please leave.”Kat paused with her key in the lock when she heard the quiet voice.“You don’t mean that.” The next voice was deeper and arrogant.“I do mean it. I really do want you to leave.”Kat put her keys back into her pocket and walked down the hall towards the voices. As she turned the corner, she discovered a man leaning over a small woman who was standing very straight with her hands clasped in front of her. The man stepped a little closer, causing the woman to press her back against the wall and turn her head to the side, meeting Kat’s eyes.The sheer panic in the woman’s eyes spurred Kat into action. She dropped her bag and took two large steps forward, swinging her fist into the guy’s face and sending him staggering a half step backwards.He gaped at her. “What the hell?”“Leave. Her. Alone.”“What’s it to you?” He moved forward into Kat’s space.Kat responded by slamming her fist into his stomach.He bent forward and Kat muttered into his ear. “What's it to me? Well, I’m the one that’ll kick your ass if you go near her again.” She shoved him back and he glared at the both of them.Kat took a step forward, right hand still clenched and ready, left hand sweeping her jacket back so her badge and gun were clearly visible. “Touch her again and I’ll arrest you.”He glared some more, but made the right decision and walked off.Kat immediately turned to the woman who was staring at her. “Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”“You’re hurt.”“What?”“Your hand is hurt.”Kat looked down at her hand. Apparently, she had skinned her knuckles on the idiot. “Oh, it’s fine. Are you okay?”“You need medical attention.” The woman stated. “I am a qualified doctor. I am about to start my residency, but I have my degree and significant practice with injuries. I am also a genius in the medical field. I assure you it is quite safe.”Kat looked at the woman. She was standing straight, hands clasped, much like she had been before. “Um” was Kat’s coherent response.“Please let me tend to you.”Kat blinked. “Okay.”The woman immediately began digging into her side bag, pulling out a pack of bandages. She looked around. “It would be better if we were somewhere with a sink and counter. Come inside?”Kate glanced at her watch. She still had a few minutes before the kids expected her home. “Sure.” She scooped up her own bag and followed the woman a few short steps down the hall and into the apartment.The apartment was a mirror image of Kat’s, but quite bare: the only furniture was a desk and it was surrounded by piles of boxes.The woman held out her hand expectantly, standing next to the kitchen sink. Kat shook herself from her observation and stepped forward, putting her injured hand into the other woman’s. It was a very soft hand. “I’m Kat Loving. I live down the hall.”“Oh!” The woman blushed a pretty shade of pink. “Introductions. I’m Rebecca Blithely. I moved in today.” She tugged on Kat’s hand and gently ran water over the skinned knuckles before wiping them down with an antiseptic wipe. She peered at the sores closely. Kat could feel her breath tickle her fingertips.“I don’t think they need bandages.” Rebecca declared seriously.“That’s good,” Kat replied. “Coming home with skinned knuckles is nothing. Coming home with a bandaged hand? My kids’ll freak out a little.”“You have children?” questioned Rebecca.She still hadn’t let go of Kat’s hand.“Yeah.” Kate gave a half smile. “Three of ‘em. We live in number 303.”“Why did you say you would arrest that man?”“Because if he touches you again without your permission, that’s assault.”“Are you a police officer?” Rebecca cocked her head to the side and swept her gaze up and down Kat’s body, pausing at her badge, her boots, her gun, and her hat. She was still holding Kat’s hand.“Sheriff, actually.”“Oh.”There was a pause.Kat considered Rebecca, as she stood there. She appeared calm and collected but was shaking slightly, probably excess adrenaline from the encounter in the hall.“Do you have plans for dinner?” Kat asked.“Dinner?”“Yeah, dinner. Or supper, whichever you call it. You just moved in, and aren’t unpacked yet. I’ve got plenty of food what with teenagers in the house, and it’ll give you a rest. And then we can help you unpack.”“Oh.”“If you want, I mean. Won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”Rebecca thought for a moment, a tiny crease forming between her eyebrows before she came to a decision and it smoothed away. “I think that would be nice. Thank you.”“It’s my pleasure,” Kate responded. “We’ll be eating in about an hour. Would you like to come over now?”“If it’s no trouble. I can help cook? Or mind the children?” Rebecca’s grip tightened ever so slightly on Kate’s hand, but her voice was eager, as if she wanted to be useful.Kate turned towards the door, tugging a little on Rebecca’s hand. “It’s no trouble at all. The children will be minding themselves, hopefully. It is a school night and they’ve homework.”“I see.” Rebecca nodded seriously.Kat smiled. This was a fascinating woman, to be sure.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Soon Kat found herself unlocking her door for the second time that night, only this time with a guest behind her.
As she stepped in, she called out. “I’m home!”
Kelly stuck her head into the front room. “Hey, Ma! Who’s this? Catch any bad guys today?”
“This is Ms. Rebecca Blithely. She just moved in down the hall and will be having dinner with us.”
“So no bad guys?”
Kat raised an eyebrow at Kelly and tossed her hat onto Kelly’s head.
“Oh!” Kelly straightened the hat on her head and turned to Rebecca. “Hello, Ms. Blithely. I’m Kelly. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Hello, Kelly. It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Can I help with dinner?” Kelly asked, standing on tiptoes to place the hat on the topmost knop of the hat stand.
“Have you finished your homework?” Kat countered.
Kelly scowled. “Everything except English.”
“Well, go finish up. We're helping Ms. Blithely move in after dinner, so you won't have time then.” Kat nodded towards the hallway while she hung up her jacket and bent down to unlace her boots.
Rebecca hastily knelt too, going through her precise routine of taking off her shoes. Kelly huffed and slunk towards the hallway.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, girl,” Kat commanded, even though she and Kelly were facing opposite directions.
“Yes, Ma . . .” came floating back down the hall.
Rebecca lined her shoes up neatly by Kat’s boot on the small rack by the door and then turned to Kat who had her hands out expectantly. Rebecca looked at the hands and then back at Kat’s face, expecting to see impatience or amusement at her confusion.
Instead, Kat’s face was calm. “May I take your coat?” she asked.
“Oh!” Rebecca’s hands flew to her buttons. “Yes. Thank you.”
Kat hung up Rebecca’s coat and led the way into the kitchen. “Pasta tonight. Are you allergic to anything?”
“No . . .” Rebecca examined the kitchen. It was clean and neat. “May I assist?”
“You’re a guest,” Kat stated. “Wouldn’t be right.”
“But you helped me,” Rebecca protested. “And offered to help more. It would be only appropriate.”
Kat gave a short laugh, causing her entire countenance to transform into something wild and beautiful. “I suppose it would at that.” She hauled a large pot out of a cupboard. “If you could please put some water on to boil, then?”
Rebecca nodded eagerly.
Not much later, Kat hollered for the kids, and three teenagers filled the kitchen, collecting plates and napkins and silverware and swiftly setting the table. There was even a small posy of flowers in a vase in the middle that the smallest child proudly presented.
Rebecca counted the plates, counted the people, and turned to Kat. “Will your husband not be joining us tonight?”
Kat gave her an odd look. “My husband?”
“You have a ring.” Rebecca hastened to explain. She’d done it again, hadn’t she. Thomas had said time and time again that her questions were inappropriate. “And there was a gentleman’s coat in the closet. And you have children.”
“We’re all adopted.” the smallest child piped up. “Me ‘n’ Kelly first, then Neill.”
“Oh.” Rebecca glanced nervously around. They didn’t
seem
mad at her assumptions.
Kat pulled out Rebecca’s chair and nodded at the children to sit. “I have no husband, Ms. Blithely. He died some time ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Rebecca replied rotely. She knew that courtesy, at least.
There were a few moments of organized chaos as food was passed around and plates filled and first bites taken. When they were all settled, the smallest child piped up again. “What about you, Ms. Blithely? Do you have a husband?”
“Robin . . .” Kat warned.
“Not anymore. He died as well.” Rebecca shook her head, the frustration coming out again. “I warned him it was cancer, but he would not listen until it was too late.”
No one seemed to know what to say to that, so Kat smoothly changed the subject. “Which hospital will you be at? You said you start your rotation soon.”
“Janestown Municipal. I start Monday in the emergency unit.”
The conversation flowed easily from there, Kat asking the children about their days, and being regaled with stories from the local schools. Despite Rebecca’s awkwardness, they included her in the conversation and didn’t seem put-off when she had trouble thinking of the correct words. Their camaraderie extended through cleaning up the table, doing the dishes, and trooping as a group over to Rebecca’s apartment in order to help unpack.
Robin was set to filling the bookshelves with books (most of Rebecca’s boxes, to be honest), Kelly put away the kitchenware and linens, Kat and Neill moved furniture, and Rebecca finished unpacking her clothes.
They had mostly finished when Kat rounded up the kids and sent them home. “As it’s a school night,” Kat explained, “it is their bedtime.”
Rebecca looked around her apartment that now looked much homier. “Thank you. Very much. You have been exceedingly kind.”
Kat lifted her hand as if to doff her hat before realizing she was no longer wearing it. “It was my pleasure, Ms. Blithely. You have a good night, now.”
Rebecca nodded. “You too, Ms. Loving.”
Kat smiled briefly and left the apartment, gently closing the door behind her. Rebecca stared after her for some time, not quite sure why she suddenly felt more lonely now than she had in the months previously.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The next time Kat saw Rebecca, they were both leaving their apartments at an unearthly hour of the morning. Kat tipped her hat as Rebecca reached her section of the hallway and fell into step. “Good morning, Ms. Blithely.”
“Good morning, Ms. Loving.” Rebecca paused, adjusting the large, black, medical bag in her hand. “Or should I call you Sheriff Loving?”
“Either is fine. Kat is also acceptable, for my friends.”
“We are friends?”
“Yes.”
“Kat.” Rebecca said carefully, as if testing the name in her mouth. “Kat.”
Kat pushed the elevator button, trying not to think too hard about how good that sounded, coming from Rebecca.
“You must call me Rebecca then. It’s only appropriate, since we are friends.”
Kat smiled and nodded agreement, waving Rebecca ahead of her into the elevator. “That fellow hasn’t bothered you again, has he?”
”Oh, no. I think he took your warning very seriously.”
“Good.” Kat allowed herself the smug feeling of a job well done. “But you tell me if he becomes a problem.”
“I will do that.” Rebecca said earnestly.
They exited the elevator and Kar paused. “May I walk you to your car?”
Rebecca faced Kat head on. “Yes. You may.”
It became a sort of habit with them. On the days Rebecca had morning shifts at the hospital, she would meet Kat in the hallway. They would take the elevator down, exchange small talk, and Kat would walk Rebecca to her car, watching until she made it safely out of the parking garage.
Kat tried not to consider the implications of her actions. She’d always been more of a “feeler” than a “thinker” anyway. If she had to, she would have said that she was just being neighborly. Or that it was her duty to serve and protect. Or that she could always use a friend that she didn’t work with. Fortunately, no one asked.
---
It was merely a couple weeks after their shared dinner when Kat showed up to a domestic and ended up needing to take both the victim and the instigator to the hospital. The victim in an ambulance with a concussion and a hairline fracture in his arm, and the instigator in the back of Kat’s patrol car with a bloody nose and a possible sprain from when Kat twisted her arm pulling her off the victim.
Once they got to the hospital, Kat cuffed herself to the perp and escorted her firmly into the emergency room.
“You will say nothing and do nothing.” Kat said firmly to her, waving the hospital security over. “Unless you feel like waiving your Miranda rights.”
The perp snarled a little, but slumped down in the provided chair and cradled her arm.
The hospital must have been eager to get her out of there, because Kat and her perp were soon hustled into a private exam room, along with another security officer. A doctor came in soon after and Kat gave a half smile before catching herself. It was Rebecca.
She looked up from the chart and blinked at Kat before glancing over the perp (sitting sullenly on the exam bed) and the security officer (standing officially in the corner).
“I’m Dr. Blithely.” Rebecca said suddenly. “What is the problem?”
The perp snorted. “Bitch like you ain’t no doctor.”
Kat smiled at the perp and casually twisted the hand she was currently cuffed to. “You backtalk Dr. Blithely again and I’ll sprain your other wrist.”
“Sheriff Loving!” Rebecca chided. “That’s not ethical.”
“I don’t hold with disrespect.”
“I’m sure there won’t be any trouble.”
Kat straightened up a little. “Just making certain of it, ma’am.”
Rebecca looked at her piercingly, before turning back to her patient. The perp was smart and didn’t say anything else. Of course, Kat’s warning hand on her arm could have had something to do with that.
Once her wrist had been wrapped, Kat took the perp back to the squad car. She took a moment to duck back inside the hospital to catch Rebecca or leave a note if she was busy. Luckily Rebecca was at the counter finishing up some paperwork. Kat hastily swept off her hat and cleared her throat to get Rebecca’s attention.
Rebecca turned, smiling at the sight of Kat before realizing where they were and frowning in concern. “Is there something wrong, Sheriff?”
“No, uh,” Kat cleared her throat again. “Just wondering if you would care to join us for dinner again tonight. The kids have been asking about you and I meant to invite you this morning, but forgot.” She smiled a bit sheepishly. “I was a mite distracted.”
Rebecca smiled. “I would love to.”
---
Dinner that evening was much the same as the first dinner they’d shared together. Kelly helped with the casserole, Robin provided another small posy of flowers, and Kat made sure to keep Rebecca included in their conversations. She seemed a little more relaxed this time around - less tense, less jumpy.
The kids scattered after dinner, either to finish homework or make use of their allotted computer time. Kat grabbed a couple beers from the fridge and offered one to Rebecca. She hesitantly took it, and Kat led her into the living room and settled down on the couch.
“Uh, sorry about today at the hospital.” Kat said. “I didn’t mean to step on your authority or anything.”
“Oh, I wasn’t worried about that!” Rebecca hastened to reassure. “I was worried about the legal and ethical ramifications of you threatening someone.”
“Oh.” Kat nodded. “Thanks. My boss has said I have a ‘wild west’ attitude and that I need reining in once in a while.”
Rebecca looked a little confused at the statement and took a long swallow of her beer. And then made a face at the taste and set it down carefully on a coaster on the end table.
“What do you like most about working at the hospital?” Kat ventured. They hadn’t really progressed past pleasantries in their morning chats, and Kat didn’t want to spend the evening with a beautiful woman on her couch talking about the weather.
Rebecca brightened up immediately. “Oh, I’m learning so much there! Theory is wonderful and I can spend hours reading books but actually having my hands on it teaches me so much! Why just the other day I had this patient who . . .”
Kat smiled, enraptured as Rebecca described the myriad of problems that entered the ER and how even doing up a few stitches taught her so much more about the human body.
Rebecca abruptly stopped half an hour later and shrunk back a little. “I’m sorry. You don’t want to listen to all this.”
“Sure I do. I asked, didn’t I?”
Rebecca frowned prettily. “But people just ask things like that to be polite and don’t actually want to hear it.”
Kat winced internally and did her best to keep her face calm. “Not me. If I ask something, I mean it.”
“Oh.” Rebecca paused. “What do you like most about being sheriff?”
Kat pondered her answer. There were lots of things she liked about her job, but the best part was probably . . . “Helping. Having people ask for help and being able to provide.”
“Are you able to help often?” Rebecca asked.
Kat lifted one shoulder. “Not as much as I would like. Most of my job is stopping people from hurting someone else. But every so often I get the chance to do something good.” Kat paused, half smiling in the direction of the bedrooms. “Like my kids.”
Rebecca cocked her head. “Robin said they were adopted.”
Kat nodded. “Yeah. They have some rough backgrounds. I’m just trying to give them better opportunities.”
Rebecca considered Kat seriously. “You are very brave and very kind.”
Kat hid her blush behind her beer.
|
10072577
|
occupational hazard
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Zack Addy, Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Jack Hodgins, Angela Montenegro, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia, Jennifer \"JJ\" Jareau",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by credencebvrebxne",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00",
"words": "2,888",
"Additional Tags": "Whump, Hurt Spencer, Spencer Reid Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff",
"Relationship": "Zack Addy/Spencer Reid",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "symbiosis",
"Collections": "Bones Fanfic Must Reads, Criminal Minds Fanfic Must Reads",
"Fandoms": "Bones (TV), Criminal Minds",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
A/N: A/U in which Spencer and Zack have been in a long time committed relationship over the course of the Criminal Minds series five times spencer gets hurt on the job and one time zack does-------Spencer winced at the pulling sensation as a nurse stitched up his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled softly. Hotch had made his way back into the emergency room, Spencer looked at him hollowly. "We called Zack," Hotch told him.Spencer worried his lower lip. "Hotch. I just started dating him six months ago, I don't want to worry him with somethings like this."Hotch waved off his concerns. "He said he's on his way and that he's coming to drive you home. He's instructed me not to let you out of my sight."Spencer rolled his eyes. "He's a bit...bossy," Spencer said with a faint grin."He's a good kid. I never thought I'd meet anyone as sharp as you are, and he certainly gives you a run for your money," Hotch praised quietly.Spencer grinned, wincing as the nurse tugged on the thread. Several minutes later, a haphazardly dressed Zack Addy threw himself into the room. He took one look at Spencer before rushing to his side. "Let me see," he muttered, bringing his hands up to rest on Spencer's face gently.Spencer obliged, and Zack lightly brushed chestnut hair off of Spencer's forehead. "How the hell did this happen?" he asked."An unsub uh, barricaded us in the hospital. Hotch had to pretend to beat me up so I could get the upper hand," Spencer explained before trailing off.Zack looked at him. "What happened next, Spence?""I shot him," Spencer whispered hoarsely. "He's dead."Zack's face softened and he sat on the edge of Spencer's bed. He was never really adept at social cues, but with Spencer, it was different. It was almost like he could tell when his boyfriend was in pain. "Spencer," he said softly.Reid passed a hand over his face, trying to play off his distress. "This better not be a common occurrence," Zack threatened lightly.The corners of Spencer's mouth quirked into a smile. "It's an occupational hazard I guess," he said quietly.Zack smiled, squeezing Spencer's hand. "I have dinner ready at home, if you'd like to spend the night."Spencer's eyes lit up. "That sounds fantastic.-----It was about fifteen months after the incident with Phillip Dowd when Spencer Reid was taken. It was the middle of February and the air was chilly. They were on the search for another serial killer when Tobias Hankel kidnapped Spencer from his remote farm land. Hotch called Zack that night. "Hi. Zack Addy? It's Aaron Hotchner, Spencer's boss."Zack froze. The last time Agent Hotchner had called him, Spencer had a pretty bad head wound. "What happened to Spencer?" he asked immediately."Spencer's been taken. We aren't trying to cause any panic, but if you would like to fly out to us, we can meet you at the airport in Atlanta.""I'll be on the next flight out."Zack grimaced. He shoved several articles of clothing into a duffel bag and slammed the door behind him. He dialed Hodgins, explaining himself hastily. Hodgins hung up the phone, promising to be there in less than twenty minutes. Zack paced in the lobby of his apartment building. When the headlights of Angela's minivan glinted through the glass doors, Zack hurried out. He climbed into the passenger seat wordlessly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Zack. Good luck," Angela said sincerely as Zack exited the van, making a beeline for the airport entrance.Zack bought a plane ticket and flew the red eye flight to Atlanta. He landed around six AM the next morning. Agent Jareau met him at the baggage claim. "J.J," he said breathlessly, jogging over to where she stood.She took it, shaking it firmly. "Zack. It's wonderful to see you again, I just wish it were under better conditions," she said bitterly.Zack nodded mutely. "Please tell me what happened?"J.J bit her lip. "Spence and I were chasing down Tobias Hankel. He uh, suggested that we split up, and he went searching the fields. Tobias managed to knock him out and take him away," she explained. "It's uh, it's my fault. I shouldn't have let him leave me."Zack chewed on his lower lip. "While objectively, yes that was a poor judgment call, I can positively assume you never wanted Spencer to be kidnapped. So I suppose, on an emotional level, it's not your fault at all," he said sincerely.J.J smiled warily. She had spent enough time with Zack to know that was a gesture of kindness, rather than an accusatory confrontation. She helped heave his duffel bag into the backseat of an Escalade before driving away. "Do you know where he is?" Zack asked, masking the worry he felt."No, we don't, but I can tell you none of us will rest until Spencer comes back," J.J reassured."I want to help," Zack said immediately."I'll talk to Hotch but I'm not sure you'd be able to, but I promise you we're working our hardest."Zack cleared his throat. "No offense to anyone in the B.A.U but Spencer is a genius. I am also a genius. He's missing, so you'll need another genius to help find the first genius."J.J sighed. "You have to talk to Hotch," she repeated.Hotch had sent Zack to his hotel, promising at least a dozen times to call him if anything had changed. Zack spent the next day pacing and pulling his hair. He could hear Spencer cry out in his nightmares, and he woke up in a cold sweat, swiping away tears that formed in his tired eyes. It was the night of the second day when Hotch called him, telling him that Spencer is alive and headed to a local hospital. Zack nearly tripped down the stairs and hailed a cab, shaking with fear and relief. He stumbled through the front door and practically threw himself at the emergency room front desk. "I'm here for Spencer Reid," he wheezed.A nurse directed him to a triage room and Zack sprinted into it, eyes falling on Spencer who was lying in a bed, pale and weakened. Zack's lower lip trembled, and in a rare moment of weakness, he let out a loud sob. Spencer blinked slowly, craning his neck. He outstretched his arms and Zack collapsed into his embrace. "I hate you," Zack mumbled between stuttering cries. "I hate you for scaring me like that."Spencer wordlessly gripped his boyfriend, shaking as tears fell. "I was so scared Zack," he gasped. "I thought I was never going to see you again."Zack tightened his embrace. "Don't say that, you're here. And you're alive. And I'm here."Spencer pushed his hair back. Zack could see the faint scars from his stitches. He pressed a kiss into Spencer's chest. "You can't do this again, Spencer, you're going to kill me," he muttered."It's an occupational hazard," Spencer whispered, tiredness filling his bones. He drifted off peacefully.-----Zack was started to get rather irritated with the mechanisms of chance. A little over two years after Spencer came home and he was in danger again. He was starting to get used to the impromptu calls and Agent Hotchner's uneasy tone. He was finishing a lecture on degenerative bone diseases and their affect on human remains when his phone began buzzing. He excused himself from his students. "Agent Hotchner," he greeted."Zack. I'm so sorry. But you need to go to the hospital. Spencer is there, recovering from an on the job injury," Hotch sighed.Zack's brow furrowed. "Forgive me for saying, Agent Hotchner, but that's exceptionally vague. Of course, I'll be there as soon as I can, but can you elaborate on Spencer's condition?"Hotch gritted his teeth. "Zack. No, I can't I'm sorry, it's classified information. I can only tell you that he's going to be okay, and he's been asking for you."Zack hung up, confused. Walking back into the lecture hall, he announced. "I'm going to have to continue this lecture next time, I have had a family emergency."He excused his students and grabbed his briefcase. Hailing a cab, he rode to the hospital in silence. This was becoming an all too frequent occurrence and he would have to have a firm discussion with both Spencer and someone else on the team, because they needed to be looking out for him a lot better than they had been. He walked into the emergency room. "Agent Spencer Reid," he told the receptionist. "I'm here to visit him."The receptionsist nodded, clicking keys on the keyboard. "He just came from the ICU, he's over there."Zack entered Spencer's hotel room, tossing his briefcase on a chair. Zack took a seat at the foot of Spencer's bed. "Spence. I'm gonna have a legitimate heart attack," he told his boyfriend seriously.Spencer flushed. "I'm sorry Zack," he said apologetically."I'm not mad at you, I'm just worried," Zack explained. "I know you said this was an occupational hazard, but I'm starting to fear for your life every time you go out on a case. It makes me worry that every time I see you will be the last.""So you're leaving me?" Spencer asked, face falling.Zack shook his head. "Never. I was actually, well, I was saving this for our anniversary in a few months, but I'm not sure if you'll live that long," he said jokingly. He got off the bed and went back to his briefcase, rummaging around inside. His fingers closed over a small black velvet box. "Spencer. I'm really awkward and I've been searching for a way to ask you this for months. But considering your occupational hazards, I think now is as good of a time as any to ask you to marry me," Zack said bashfully.He didn't receive verbal confirmation until Spencer stopped kissing him. "I love you," Spencer said, resting his head on Zack's shoulder."I love you too," Zack replied, an unidentifiable fuzzy feeling glowing in his chest.-----Four months had passed since Spencer's last incident. The couple was in the throes of wedding planning, receiving the support and friendship from both of their friend groups. It was late September. Zack was spending a day at his office, meeting new students and outlining his lesson plan. His phone began ringing and he nearly rolled his eyes when he read the caller ID. "Agent Hotchner. What happened to him now?" Zack asked wryly.To his surprise, Hotch let out an uncharacteristic chuckle. "He got shot, he's in the hospital."Zack dropped the paper he was holding. "Where did he get shot? Was it bad?" he asked, shrugging on his coat and tripping out the door."He got shot in the leg, it went clean through, but they want to hold him for a day or so in observation."Spencer sat in his hospital bed anxiously. He knew Zack was on the way and he was nervous. Would Zack be mad at him? He did have an uncanny knack for getting hurt, but he never intended to go out on a case and come back injured. When Zack appeared in his doorway, he gave him a sheepish grin. "Afternoon dear," he greeted weakly.Zack huffed. "Spencer William Reid this is the fourth time I've had to sit by your bedside in the hospital. Are you trying to kill me?" he asked accusingly, collapsing by Spencer's bedside. "This is utterly ridiculous, that's an objective and subjective observation," he added bitterly.Spencer shook his head emphatically. "It just happens, it's an occupational hazard," he said lamely.Zack rolled his eyes. "You need to stop doing that macho hero stuff. Leave that to Derek, or for godsake, even Hotch. You're not indestructible. For godsake dear, you're not even thirty," Zack chided gently.Spencer bit his lip. "Yes sir," he said meekly.Zack pushed the hair out of Spencer's eyes. "I can't afford to lose you, ok?" he said firmly."Ok," Spencer agreed, leaning into the touch.----Zack sat on the plane, oozing with anger. Agent Hotchner had called him out to Texas. The phone call was brief, but Spencer had been shot in the line of duty. Again. His husband of three years had managed to evade trouble for almost half a decade. Though, Zack supposed, 'luck' can't last forever. He know Dr. Brennan didn't believe in luck, and logically, neither does he. But he doesn't know what else to call the periods of time that Spencer goes out on cases and comes home uninjured. The couple got married late in the summer of 2011. The day was joyous, as both the BAU and the Jeffersonian staff attended, teary eyed as Zack and Spencer kissed for the first time as a married couple. They had settled down in Georgetown, Zack continued to teach at the local university, and Spencer continued his work as profiler. They reveled in each other's presence, and they grew strong as a couple and as individuals.Zack hurried through the Dallas airport, meeting up with David Rossi. "Nice to see you, Zack," Rossi said with a smile smile.Zack merely nodded, smiling stiffly. "How is he?" he asked, concerned.Rossi's smile faltered. "He just got out of surgery. They say he's stable but he's still in intensive care."Zack swallowed the lump in his throat, his anxiety coarsing through his veins. They rode to the hospital, chatting amicably. After Rossi parked the SUV, Zack followed him into the emergency room. They passed through a heavy set of metal doors, and Rossi pointed out Spencer's room. Zack entered quietly, his husband fast asleep. He greeted Penelope, who was sitting in a chair by Spencer's bed. "He just got out of surgery, they say he should wake up any time now," she relayed as Zack took the seat next to her. He chuckled. "We went a good five years without Spencer being in some kind of danger," he told Penelope.She laughed. "He kind of attracts trouble doesn't he?"Zack nodded, rolling his eyes. "I worry about him. Which isn't logical. Five accidents over the course of a decade isn't anything too horrendous, it's still five times too often for my liking," he observed, reaching out to hold Spencer's hand.Penelope smiled softly. "He talks about you, all the time, even to this day. It's been a full decade of 'Zack said' this and 'Zack showed me' that," she told him. "We could all tell, after you two got together, that he was happier. I'm not a profiler, but it would be impossible to miss. Before you guys got together, he always looked...worried. Now, look at him," she gestured to Spencer, who was still asleep, with a faint smile etched oto his face."He's made me really happy too," Zack said fondly.Spencer felt extremely groggy. A stabbing pain radiated in his neck, and his limbs felt heavy. He blinked slowly, vision clearing. He could smell Zack, the faint traces of disinfectant and pine lingered in the room. Zack was leaning against his hospital bed, head down and snoring softly. Zack had his arm dangling over the bed rail. Spencer squeezed Zack's hand weakly. Zack's head shot up and he met Spencer's bleary gaze. "Spencer. I don't even think I need to tell you that I'm worried. Your eidetic memory has plenty of recollections of me fussing over you," Zack reasoned, eyes watering slightly. "But I'm gonna tell you anyways, that I was worried as hell and that I swear some day you'll be the death of me."Spencer let out a hoarse wheeze. "Occupational hazard," he repeated.Zack merely rolled his eyes, leaned in, and pressed a kiss onto Spencer's chapped lips. ---- Zack sat in the hospital bed, fidgeting with the blanket. He was lecturing one of his classes when he became extremely light headed. He fell, hitting his head on the podium. After coming to in the hospital room, he felt extremely foolish. Shame flooded his senses when Spencer burst through the door, worry written all over his face. "Zack," Spencer said, rushing to his side."I'm fine," Zack protested, flushing under his husband's worried gaze. "I just fell. Vasovagal syncope, they said. I wasn't feeling to great this morning and I guess my body just needed to rest."Spencer ignored him and sat on the foot of his bed, collecting Zack's hand into his own. "I told Hotch. They were flying out on a case and he said I can join them later."Zack turned an even deeper shade of red. "I didn't intend to interrupt your work," he sputtered.Spencer ignored his concerns dismissively. "If I can recall, you have rushed to my bedside a whopping 5 times since we started dating. I owe you."Zack smiled. "Remember what you always told me, whenever I expressed my concern?"Spencer laughed. "Occupational hazard," he remarked.Zack scrunched up his nose. "I guess my profession has a few occupational hazards of their own," he said lightly, running his fingers through Spencer's hair.
|
10076909
|
To Love Another
|
{
"Archive Warning": null,
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Harry Potter, Severus Snape",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by Krystal2088 [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "5/5",
"completed": "2008-05-05",
"published": "2008-04-24T00:00:00",
"words": "8,184",
"Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Slash sex, Mpreg, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Angst, Tragedy, Bonding, Drama, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Romance",
"Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": "Underage Sex, Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Title: To Love AnotherAuthor: Krystal2088Rating: MVPairing: Harry/SeverusWarnings: Sexual Situations, Adult Language, Violence, Under 18, First Time….Summary: At the beginning of the summer before Harry’s sixth year at Hogwarts Dumbledore tells Harry a member of the Order will be training him. Harry is dumbstruck when he finds out who his trainer is and fights it to a dangerous point.Disclaimer: I do not own any characters for the Harry Potter world. I make now money from the story. All character in the HP world belong to R.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, etc.Authors Note: This is my first fan fiction. All of the stories I have read have inspired me. So if certain parts of my story resemble another authors story I am truly sorry.Chapter One: Harry wakes early the morning of his birthday to a tapping sound on his window. He slowly opens his eyes reaching for his glasses before slowly remembering that Dumbledore had cast a spell to fix his eyes on his sixteenth birthday just over a month ago. He slides out of bed, gasping as his feet hit the cold floor. Moving to the window he lets the owl in, noticing it is one of Hogwarts owls. He takes the letter from the owl before giving it a treat and letting it out. He sits at his desk unrolling the parchment and begins to read:Harry, I am writing to inform you that I have given the pleasure of training you to another Order member, as Remus will be doing some other tasks for the Order. I will however make you wait until the morning after your birthday dinner. When you meet us for breakfast. Hope you are well. I will be arriving at Number 4 Privet Drive at exactly 11am. Please be ready, as you are spending the rest of the summer at Headquarters with your friends. Yours Most Sincerely, Professor Dumbledore Harry sighs and grumbles, looking out the window as the sun start to rise. He stretches and leaves his room to shower and dress before his uncle gets up. Remembering it is his birthday and Harry shivers as he remembers the night before when he woke screaming from pain in his scar. FlashbackHarry wakes screaming holding his hand over the scar on his forehead. He quickly covers his mouth before looking to the door seeing his uncle standing in the doorway glaring at the boy, looking rather pissed. “I told you to stop the screaming boy. If you can’t stop it yourself I will beat it out of you.” Vernon moves towards him, and Harry automatically moves to cover his face with his arms fearing his uncles punches. He hears his uncle approach and seconds later he is hit in the side of his head knocking him sideways, his arms falling to keep him from falling to the floor. His uncle takes the chance to hit him in the face several times before leaving with a huff. Harry crawled into bed after taking of a bloody nose and fat lip.End Flashback Harry looked at his face in the mirror. Gasping as he sees his left eyes is black and swollen as is his bottom lip. He also has blood dried to his face and shirt. He sighs stripping down and taking his shower. After getting dressed moving quietly in his room as he packs everything making sure not to miss anything. He spends the rest of the morning cooking breakfast for the Dursley’s and cleaning the kitchen. Ignoring all the mean and hateful things they keep saying to him. He slowly turns to them. “Dumbledore will be here soon to pick me up. I am going to be spending the rest of the summer with my friends at my Godfathers house.” He starts out of the kitchen and hears a knock on the door. Answering it, he sees its Dumbledore smiling down at him. “Hello my boy” He hugs Harry “I assume you are ready to leave?” Looking past Harry as Vernon starts to yell “That boy will be going no where with you!” As swings at Harry as he approaches, but Dumbledore casts a spell rendering him motionless, before he starts to speak. His voice calmer then his expression. “Harry will be leaving with me as soon as we retrieve his belongings. I am putting an end to this abuse!” Dumbledore turns to Harry frowning some, but soon smiles speaking quietly “Lead me to your room young man” Harry just nods and they gather Harry’s things before leaving. When they arrive at the house it is eerily quiet. Harry moves to the kitchens where he finds everyone eating breakfast. Hermione gets up running and tackling Harry in a hug. As everyone is saying their hellos. Hermione finally lets go “Oh Harry, what happened to you?” Harry shrugs “Mione I would rather not talk about it” She grumbles and moves back to her seat. Hello’s are passed around and Harry sits next to Ron “Hey mate. Happy Birthday” Harry smiles “Thanks. Up to some flying after breakfast?” “Sure” both boys dig into the food seeming to be oblivious to the other in the room. They all spent the day celebrating Harry’s sixteenth birthday. As they sat down for dinner Snape appears looking rather exhausted “I have bad news Voldemort plans to attack at Kings Cross on September 1st” he moves to sit at the table, sighing. Dumbledore looks around the room “We must start planning a strategy tomorrow. Tonight we will have dinner and enjoy each others company then all get a goods nights rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day. Oh and Harry remember you are meeting with me and your new trainer in the morning.” He and Snape then leave the room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione spend the evening catching up and playing wizards chess, which Harry kept winning. Finally Ron gave up and let Hermione play, who on turn beats Harry every time. With a huff both boy go to their room and Hermione goes to her and Ginny’s room. Harry wakes feeling rather well rested. Seeing it is about sun rise he quietly gets dressed and goes down stairs walking into the kitchen with a yawns. Seeing Snape and Dumbledore speaking. He sleepily says good morning. “Wants some tea Harry before we start our meeting?” Harry nods “When will my trainer be here sir?” Dumbledore hands him some tea. “He is here my boy, Professor Snape will be training you.” Harry’s face turns red as his anger rises and he stands “WHAT?!? That man has done nothing but torment me since I came to Hogwarts! He is a greasy evil git! I wont let him train me find someone else Dumbledore!”“Harry, sit down this moment. I thought you would be more understanding for Severus training me, despite what he has said to me about your attitude towards each other.”“I will not let him train me sir. I hate him and he hates me. Please sir!” Harry sits still red in the face obviously angry.Snape sneers “of course we hate each other Potter, but we have to do this none the less. Lupin most attend to other things for the Order and I am the only other person with enough free time to train you.”Harry stands screaming “Then I wont train with anyone I will train myself. I don’t need you or anyone else.” As he storms from the kitchen slamming the door, waking Mrs. Black’s portrait in the hallway, and in turn waking the house.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: At the beginning of the summer before Harry’s sixth year at Hogwarts Dumbledore tells Harry a member of the Order will be training him. Harry is dumbstruck when he finds out who his trainer is and fights it to a dangerous point
Pairing: Harry/SeverusWarnings: Sexual Situations, Adult Language, Violence, Under 18, First Time….Disclaimer: I do not own any characters for the Harry Potter world. I make now money from the story. All character in the HP world belong to R.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, etc.Chapter Two:After storming out the kitchen Harry stomps up the stairs to his bedroom with Ron. Ron sits straight up in his bed looking at Harry. “What’s all the commotion about mate?” He says as he gets out of bed. “And what has you so pissed off?”Harry starts pacing the room “Did you know that Dumbledore was replacing Remus as my trainer?” He doesn’t give Ron a chance to say anything “With Snape!”Ron just shakes his head and looks down as Hermione walks into the room. “Harry James Potter! You go down there right this minutes and apologize to Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore. Honestly Harry what has gotten into you?” She puts her hands on her hip glaring at Harry.“I am not apologizing, I did nothing wrong. Dumbledore is trying to force me to train with Snape Mione!” He grumbles more neither Ron or Hermione can understand what he is saying.Hermione whispers “Harry…we…well we knew that Snape would be training you from now on” Harry looks at her with more anger in crossing his face. “HOW COULD YOU? How could you not tell me what was going on? Did you just forget to mention it in your letters all summer? I cant believe you two” Harry starts for the door but Ron blocks his path “Come on Harry. You know we would have told you if you could have, but you know how Dumbledore is. He likes to tell you everything or let you find out like you did this morning. Is it really that bad that Snape will be training you?”“Yes it is. He has done nothing but torture and torment me since I came to Hogwarts. He hates me and will use this as a way to hurt me if not kill me for Voldemort!” Harry anger seems to keep rising as does his voice. “Let me out of this room Ron!”Hermione shakes her head “Not until you calm down Harry. You need to realize that Snape is on our side no Vo….Voldemort” she pales some as she says his name “We have been training with him this summer. He really wants to teach us Harry and I have learned not to hate him, I think Ron has too. Please Harry just give him a chance to prove to you he isn’t against you” Harry doesn’t say anything he just moves to his bed sighing and falls onto it. Glaring at nothing in particular. ~~~~Meanwhile downstairs Molly gets the portrait quieted and storms into the kitchen “That boy needs to learn to control his temper Albus. We are all love Harry but these outbursts and getting ridiculous” Albus sighs “I know Molly. I was only telling him that Severus would be training him and he blew up. I honestly thought he would react better then that. Remus said Harry was controlling his temper wonderfully”Severus sighs “Albus that could be the problem. Potter had no reason to get angry or hate Lupin. He needs someone, like myself, to train him. He hates me and I seem to bring his temper out. It would be more beneficial if I trained him” Albus looks at him “I know Severus, but we have to get Harry to agree to go to the training sessions” Severus stands “I will go talk to the boy” He leaves walking up the stairs hearing the end part of what Hermione is saying. He raises an eyebrow before knocking on the door before opening it. “Ron, Hermione please leave so I can talk to Mister Potter” he holds the door for them then closes it behind them.After several minutes Harry looks up as if he just realized Snape was there “GET.OUT.OF.MY.ROOM.NOW.YOU.GIT!” Severus doesn’t leave in fact he walks towards the teenager. “You need to learn to control your temper, Potter and everyone, myself included feel that I am the best person to help you do that while training you.” Harry’s face turns even redder if that is possible before he leaps out of bed striking Severus in the face with his fist. Before Harry knows what is happening Severus has him pinned to the bed. He growls “If you ever hit me again Potter you WILL regret it now control yourself!” Harry struggles to break free “Get off me Snape” Harry starts kicking his legs saying that over and over. After about twenty minutes he stops and goes limp. Snape looks down at he boy . Harry looks defeated and weak laying there, as if he will start crying. Snape automatically moves off the boy “Will you talk civically to me now Harry?” Harry looks startled when Snape used his first name. Looking at the older man he sighs “I don’t want you to train me. You have don’t nothing but torment and hate me since I arrived at Hogwarts. You have tried your hardest to make my life miserable in everyway and now you are claiming you want to help me? Whatever! I don’t believe a word you saying Severus Snape” Harry moves away from the man scrambling to the other side of the bed. Glaring at him.Snape moves to sit in a rather old but comfortable looking chair in the room. “Harry, I don’t expect you to believe me until I prove myself, but I can’t prove myself if you wont allow me to try.”After several minutes Harry looks at the older man “I will agree to one training session that’s all. If you don’t prove yourself to my standards then I will not train with you ever again. Do you understand me?”Snape nods “Today after lunch?” Harry nods and leaves the room. Knowing he need to apologize to his mentor.~~~Dumbledore is sitting at the talk in the kitchen talking to Molly, Charlie, and Remus when Harry walks in. He looks around his eyes finally settling on Dumbledore. “I am sorry for losing my temper with you earlier sir” Harry sits down at the table. Molly opens her mouth to speak but Dumbledore cuts her off. “Harry you need to learn to control your temper, and I think it is best if you allow Severus to train you. Your emotional out bursts and starting to annoy me as well as the other Order members.” He sighs as Harry speaks“I have agreed to give Professor Snape a chance after lunch today, but I will warn you like I did him. If I feel for any reason he is using me or trying to torment me I will not train with him again.” Harry watches the expression on his mentors face. As Dumbledore nods Charlie looks at Harry “I think we need to talk Harry” Harry shakes his head “Not right now I need to eat and prepare for training later tonight” he smiles as Charlie nods.A couple hours later they all sit down for lunch.Ron and Hermione seem upset but don’t say anything to Harry about his outburst earlier in the day. After lunch Harry meets Severus in the training roomSeverus watches Harry’s movements and starts casting hexes at him watching Harry block them all and send his own hexes. After about forty-five minutes of that Snape speaks.“Remus seemed to teach you well so far. How are you with physical abilities?” Harry takes a deep breath “ Why don’t you find out” His voice rude and filled with anger. Snape just stands there.“What? Too scared to attack a student? I would think you would jump at the chance to physically hurt me” Harry continues to bait Snape for several minutes before lunging at him. Screaming incoherent insults. They physically brawl out their anger. About an hour and a half later they sit on the floor in the training room breathing hard.“You need to learn to control yourself better Harry” “Stop calling me that. You have no right to call me anything other then Potter.” he says with a snarl.“CONTROL YOUR TEMPER” Snape stands watching as Harry does too. “I hate you Snape and I always will!” Harry storms out of the training session.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: At the beginning of the summer before Harry’s sixth year at Hogwarts Dumbledore tells Harry a member of the Order will be training him. Harry is dumbstruck when he finds out who his trainer is and fights it to a dangerous point.
Pairing: Harry/SeverusWarnings: Sexual Situations, Adult Language, Violence, Under 18, First Time….Disclaimer: I do not own any characters for the Harry Potter world. I make no money from the story. All character in the HP world belong to R.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, etc.Chapter Three: Severus sat on the floor in the training room dumbstruck. He never thought Harry really hated him and even if he did Severus thought he could change his mind while he trained him. It was starting to look like it would take every ounce of control he had to train the teenage boy. He hoped he didn’t lose his temper with the boy, because his was far worse then Harry’s and he could probably hurt Harry badly. Just as Snape was about to get up and leave the room Harry came back in with two glasses of pumpkin juice. Handing one to Snape Harry drank his own, watching the older man.“You just told me you hated me and you expect me to take a glass of pumpkin juice from you and not think you put something in it?” he sneers at Harry and see an almost hurt look on the younger mans face. Harry seems to struggle for words and then anger rises in his face “ How dear you fucking accuse me of doing something like that. I may hate you but I would never poison you. If I was going to kill you I would use my wand.” Harry pulls out his wand and points it at the Potions Master. He starts to cast a spell then abruptly stops lowering his wand not taking his eyes off the older man. “Why did you stop? IF you hate me so much why did you stop?” Snape slowly stands. Watching to make sure Harry keeps his wand lowered.“Because Dumbledore would never forgive me if I killed or seriously hurt you. Plus its what you expect because its what my father or godfather would have done. You have always made me into my father. A man I NEVER even knew. Can’t you see I am ME? Why can‘t you understand I am not my father?!?”Snape looks confused at the fact there is more hurt then anger in Harry’s voice as he says that and is stunned. He can’t find the words to express how he feels or what is going through his mind. After about fifteen minutes Harry speaks “Lets just get back to training Professor” Snape seems to snap out of his thoughts “Harry…” The younger man turns away “Its no use you will never see me as me and not my father. Lets just train like you are supposed to be doing”~~~That night Harry and Charlie sit at the kitchen table while everyone else sleeps. Both drinking tea. Harry yawns “You wanted to talk to me about something?” Charlie looks at Harry and nods “I wanted to talk about the night we spent together” Harry almost chokes on his tea and blushed deeply. “What about it?”“I enjoyed that night and wanted to see how you felt about it. Im not asking for you to love me or anything but I would like to know if you have any feelings for me” Charlie sighs softly and he watches Harry.Lost in thought Harry is quiet for several minutes. “I never really thought about it. I mean it was good and we had fun but you’re Ron’s brother. I don’t even know if I am gay. I mean we were just exploring right?”Charlie frowns some “Maybe you were just exploring but I was not. I know I am gay Harry and I like you, but I don’t want to pressure you into something you aren’t ready for. I honestly wish you were, but now I know you aren’t. I am sorry I brought it up. You didn’t need this on top of everything else you are going through. Having to train with Snape and be the person everyone expects to defect Voldemort. I really am sorry Harry” Before Harry can say anything Charlie kisses him on the cheek and leaves the room. Harry stays there for a while longer and as he is getting ready to leave Dumbledore enters the room. “Please stay. I need to talk to you Harry” Dumbledore sits down next to Harry and Harry sighs “I have agreed to allow Professor Snape train me sir” The older man nods and seems to be thinking. After a few minutes he looks at Harry.“I know this is hard for you Harry. You and Severus have never seen eye to eye. For a long time he only saw James, your father, in you.” he pauses stopping Harry from speaking “Today after your training he came to me and now I am coming to you. Please allow Severus the chance to see you and not your father. He is set in his ways but I believe he wishes to change and get to know the young man you are. Please just try to train properly and learn to control that horrible temper of yours.”Harry nods “I admit that I was mostly angry because Professor Snape kept seeing my father not me. It hurt even though I never really like Snape to begin with. For you I will give him a chance and I will do my best to train properly. But sir please understand this will be just as hard for me as it is him, I have known nothing but a cruel and heartless man. After five years that is something that will be difficult to change.”“Of course my boy. All I ask it you try. It is getting late you should get to bed. Lots to do again tomorrow. Goodnight. Dumbledore leaves the room as Snape enters. They say goodnight to each other. Noticing Harry he whispers “Im sorry to bother you Mister Potter” and turns to leave. Before he has a chance to leave Harry whispers “No, please stay” The two spend the next twenty minutes planning their training sessions for the rest of the summer. After which both head to bed.~~~Over the next month Harry spent his time with his friends and training with Snape. Harry didn’t hear from Charlie again and when he woke the night after they talked Charlie has already went back to work. It saddened Harry that he didn’t get a chance to say goodbye but he knew it was for the best. He didn’t have the same feelings Charlie seemed to have and he didn’t want to hurt Charlie at all. Snape proceeds to train Harry in dueling and in physical strength. Teaching him a marital type of fighting. They also started on wandless magic and prefect Harry’s ability to block his mind. By August 30th Harry was getting good on wandless magic and his marital training. He was however not getting any better at controlling his temper. He and Severus got in several fights over the month and the one the night before was the worst. As Harry takes his shower before leaving for Kings Cross he remembers his fight with Severus the night before.FlashbackThey were training like normal when Harry got hit with a rather nasty hex. Snape moved to Harry’s side wanting to help him when Harry started yelling.“You were just waiting to hurt me weren’t you. Bidding your time waiting for me to trust you. Well I will never trust you, never believe you. No one will ever trust you or care about you. You are a Death Eater!” The anger and pain filled Harry’s face and when he could stand he left the room.End FlashbackWell maybe not a fight. All Harry could think about was the pain and anguish he saw on Severus’s face before he left. And the sound of him sobbing as he closed the door to the training room. Harry finished his shower and went downstairs for breakfast feeling rather guilty. He looked around the kitchen seeing Molly cooking and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Remus, and Snape sitting at the table. Harry took a seat and said good morning to everyone. All but Snape said good morning back. Harry turned to Snape “This is the last afternoon before we go back to Hogwarts will we be training today?” Snape seemed to tense but looked at the younger man “I was planning on just a hour or two today. Practice blocking you mind and marital fighting. If that is okay with you” Harry nods looking down at the floor. “Yes that is alright sir”Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny went about packing and cleaning their rooms after breakfast. Harry and the other had went into muggle London so Harry could get some decent well fitting clothing the day before. Settling in for some wizards chess before lunch. They all played, talked, and laughed about their summer. After lunch Harry went into the training room to wait for Snape. He was clearing his mind and putting up barriers when Snape came in and tried to invade his mind without warning. Harry blocked him completely.“Well done Potter. Lets do some physical training now.” Harry nodding and stripped down to his black jeans that fit very well. Showing off his toned chest, stomach, back, and arms. When Harry looked up he caught a look in Severus’s eyes he couldn’t quite place, but it was soon gone as Severus attacked and they spent the next two and a half hours training physically. Both exhausted and sore they made their way to the kitchens for dinner. After eating and going over the plans for Kings Cross tomorrow they all went to bed.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: At the beginning of the summer before Harry’s sixth year at Hogwarts Dumbledore tells Harry a member of the Order will be training him. Harry is dumbstruck when he finds out who his trainer is and fights it to a dangerous point.
Pairing: Harry/SeverusDisclaimer: I do not own any characters for the Harry Potter world. I make no money from the story. All character in the HP world belong to R.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, etc.Authors Note: Thank you to dino1 and Black Phoenix for their reviews. I would love to hear anyone’s opinion so feel free to review. Chapter Four Dream:Harry is laying in the middle of a large and very comfortable bed. He is completely naked and a slim but well toned man is running his lips and tongue all over Harry’s body. Harry feels a hot wet tongue slip into his belly button as he moans arching into the touch. The wet mouth moves lower to his hip licking and exploring, then to his thighs, finally lapping at his hard erection, taking the head of his penis into their mouth sucking slow at first then hard and fast. As Harry nears climax he screams the mans name “Severussss…”End DreamHarry wakes breathing hard and his hand stroking his rock hard penis. Harry gasps and removes his hand and gets up. He walks into the bathroom to shower. He tried to ignore his state but as he thinks about the dream he just awoke from he gets impossibly harder. It gets to the point that he has to reach down and take hold of his erection. He strokes it hard and fast, cumming hard all over the wall of the shower. He cleans up and gets out getting dressed and going down to the kitchen for some tea.Everyone else woke up soon after Harry got out of the shower, getting ready and eating. When it was time Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny made their way to Kings Cross along with Author, Tonks, and Remus. There were other aurors at the platform. When they arrived nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Within a couple minutes however five death eater’s were seen on the platform. Parents started yelling for the students to get on the train and the aurors started throwing hexes at the death eaters. Harry was in the middle of it all using wandless magic like he was taught. When he was hit in the chest with several spells. As he gasped for breath and fell to his knee, Remus ran to him and apparated as close to Hogwarts has he could and ran into the castle with Harry in his arms. Running straight to the infirmary. “Madam Pomfrey!” Remus yelled settling Harry on a bed. The woman came from her office “Stop yelling I’m…” she see Harry running to his side. “What happened to this boy Remus?” He sighs and start telling her about what happened at Kings Cross. “I see. I will take care of Harry. You get back to Kings Cross. Make sure all those children get here safely” Remus nods and runs out of the room. Pomfrey goes about taking care of Harry then tucks him into bed shaking her head. “This boy will be the death of me one day” she sighs going back to her office. ~~~When Remus gets back to Kings Cross the death eaters are being taken away. Finding Arthur he begins speaking “Were any students hurt? I was able to get Harry to the castle.” Arthur turns and nods “All the students made it onto the train. Ron was hit with a stunning spell but he is fine. Will Harry be okay?” “I am not sure. I didn’t stay long enough to see I came back as fast as I could. I am sure Madam Pomfrey will make sure he is okay. I will report the news to Dumbledore. I must hurry to get on the trane. I will let you know how Harry is when I find out” Remus runs and jumps into the trane as it is starting to leave Kings Cross. He sighs and finds Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna in a compartment and sits with them. Assuring them Harry is in the infirmary at the castle. The trip to Hogwarts seemed to take forever this time. As they were all worried about Harry and wanted to see him.Upon arriving Ron and Hermione ran straight to the infirmary. They were meet by Madam Pomfrey “Off you two go. You can come see Harry in the morning” “but Madam Pomfrey…” they frowned as she interrupted “No buts….off you go…now” They sighed but left going down to the feast. When they arrived the sorting was already over and they sat down. Looking up at the head table Hermione could see Snape looked furious and Dumbledore looked please. She turned to Ron and whispers “I wonder what has Snape so mad and Dumbledore so pleased” Ron Shrugged and they all ate. After dinner they all moved to the Gryffindor common room to catch up and tell stories about their summers. Late into the night they all finally decide to wonder off the bed.In the morning after breakfast Ron and Hermione make their way up to the infirmary where they find Harry sitting up in bed eating. Ron smiles “Hello mate, how are you feeling?” Harry smiles at them “better madam Pomfrey says I can leave after I finish eating” “That’s great Harry. Do you need to meet with Professor Snape about your training” Hermione looks concerned. “Later tonight. Why to you look concern Mione?” Harry takes another bite of food finishing his breakfast. “Well…Snape looked furious last night at the feast. I just hope he isn’t going to take it out of you.” she sighs. Harry gets out of bed getting dressed. “I am sure everything will be fine Mione…lets get out of here” The three of them left the infirmary and headed to classes. The day seemed uneventful and after dinner he was summoned to Snape’s office. At 8pm Harry knocked on the door waiting for Snape to say come in then lets himself in closing the door behind him.“You wanted to see me sir?” Harry sits in the chair across from Snape. The older man seems to stare at him for quite some him before speaking.“I am very disappointed in you, Potter. You can manage to block all my curses during training but can’t get through a planned attack at Kings Cross when the plan was went over several times?” Snape sneers at the boy. Harry looks a little defeated “I tried me best sir. During training it is just us. At Kings Cross there were several people cursing me.” Snape scowls “I don’t care that is no excuse. We trained hours everyday for the last month and you cant get through one battle. You are weak and you will never defeat the Dark Lord. You are useless and you are just wasting my time!”Harry’s face turns red and he starts shaking “Well fuck you Severus Snape! I did the best I could and if you would stop trying to make me into my father you would see that and you would see I am getting stronger every day. I hold by what I said. You are nothing. You are nothing but a death eater no one trusts or cares about!” with that Harry storms out. Instead of going back to the Gryffindor tower he heads to the owlry. Stopping on the stairs to look up at the star filled sky he sighed. He wondered why things seem to be going so wrong lately. He didn’t think Snape was nothing but a death eater and only said it because Snape was being cruel. Why couldn’t Snape see he was doing his very best. Harry was tired of being the boy who lived and the savior. He wished someone would see him as Harry not boy who lived and the savior, but he knew it would never happen. Now he had to continue training with a man who hated him and thought him weak. Sighing Harry went back to the common room. Saying goodnight he went to bed. Waking an hour later from a horrible dreams. It took him hours to get back to sleep and before he knew it, it was time to get up for breakfast and classes. He had double potions today. ‘just great’ he thought to himself as he heading to the dungeons. Taking his normal seat as class started. Professor Snape walks into the room with his normal dramatic first day of the year attitude. “The directions are on the board. You have till the end of class to complete the potion” Then he sits at this desk and picks up a quill. “So Potter. I hear you cant even get through a small death eater attack.” Draco Malfoy smirks “How will you ever defeat the Dark Lord?” The Slythrins laugh. Professor Snape looks up “Be quiet and get your potions done NOW”Halfway through class Snape starts walk though the class cmmenting on various potions. When he reaches Harry he sneers “Well Mister Potter like always you can follow simple directions” with a wave of his hand Harry’s caldron is empty. “ Fifty points from Gryffindor, a zero on the assignment and detention with me tonight 8pm my office”. Harry sighed and looked down. Feeling ashamed and tired. ~~After dinner that night Harry started his homework. Realizing it was close to 8pm Harry hurried down to Snape’s office, knocking on the door. Entering when Snape says enter. “Sit Mister Potter” Harry sits and keeps his eyes on the floor “I am tired of my time being wasted. You will train alone or with someone else. I have informed Dumbledore of my decision and against his wishes I am following through with my decision. He seems to think you are getting stronger, but I have to disagree Potter. You are getting weaker and you aren’t even trying.”Harry looks up at the older man “I am not getting weaker you arrogant git! You are just jealous I am more powerful then you!” Realizing he shouldn’t have said that he moves out of the room quickly hearing Snape say “ why you insolent brat!” as he closed the door behind him.When Harry got back to the common room he sat in front of the fire with Ron and Hermione. Telling them what he said they look shocked. Hermione looks at Harry “You should take this up with Professor Dumbledore first thing in the morning Harry” He shrugs “Snape told Dumbledore he wasn’t going to train me anymore, but I will let Dumbledore know anyways.” Harry yawns “I am going to bed guys…Goodnight” Harry falls into bed. He tosses and turns for a couple hours before he falls into a restless sleep.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: At the beginning of the summer before Harry’s sixth year at Hogwarts Dumbledore tells Harry a member of the Order will be training him. Harry is dumbstruck when he finds out who his trainer is and fights it to a dangerous point.
Pairing: Harry/SeverusDisclaimer: I do not own any characters for the Harry Potter world. I make no money from the story. All character in the HP world belong to R.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, etc.Authors Note: Thanks to those of you who have reviewed. If anyone is concerned about Harry’s OWL scores they are the same as they were in the sixth book. Harry is taking Charms, Defense Against The Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, and Potions. Another thing, Professor Snape is teaching potions for their sixth year and Harry does not find the Half Blood Princes potion book and his Exceeds Expectations OWL in Potions was enough for him to take the N.E.W.T potions class. Sorry it took so long to update, Ive been really sick. Now enjoy… Chapter Five:The next morning Ron wakes to Harry screaming. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and moves to Harry’s side, shaking him softly “Harry, wake up. Its only a dream” after repeating that a few times Harry wakes up, sitting straight up. Sighing he realizes it was just a dream , he turns to Ron, who has a look of concern on his face. “You okay mate?” Ron asks watching Harry. Harry nods, speaking quietly “It was another nightmare. What time is it?” Harry starts to get out of bed. Ron looks out the window “Early morning, wanna go down to breakfast?” Harry nods and they both dress and head down to the common room where they find Hermione.Hermione is curled up in a large comfy red and gold chair in front of the clam fire with a book half falling out of her hand. The boys laugh to themselves.Ron speaking first “Leave it to Mione to fall asleep with a book. I swear there is something wrong with that girl. She likes school far too much.” Harry nods and moves across the room waking the young woman. “Morning Mione” The girl yawns and looks around seeing that the common room is deserted “Morning…I fell asleep in the common room again” she giggles “Heading to breakfast boys?” They nod and say “Yep.” She starts up the stairs “I will meet you down there after I shower”. They nod, heading out of the Gryffindor tower. Saying good morning to the fat lady.As they enter the Great Hall they notice most students aren’t up yet. A few at each house table. Only Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape are at the head table. They seem to be deep in conversation both looking upset. Harry and Ron sit at the end closest to the head table. Eggs, bacon, toast and juice appear before them. As they dish up Harry glances up at the two professors.“I wonder what is going on with Snape and Dumbledore. They both look upset.” Ron looks up at them and shrugs “Dumbledore is probably mad that Snape was so cruel last night…Do you think that’s what triggered the nightmare?” Harry nods “He said something that reminded me of my uncle. That’s what the nightmare was about Vernon beating me up”. His voice fills with venom when he says his uncles name. They both go back to eating silently. Harry hears Dumbledore briefly “Severus, you will train that young man and you will stop being cruel to him. Have I caught you nothing?!?” Dumbledore’s face turns slightly red when Snape replies but Harry can not hear what Snape says. Hermione walks up sitting next to Ron. “What’s going on up there?” She motions to the Professors. Ron shrugs “I don’t know… Do you Harry?” Harry nods “I think Dumbledore is yelling at Snape for not training me and what he said to me last night, but I’m not sure.” He tries to listen more, but both professors are keeping their voices down. They finish their breakfast as more students and teachers start filling the Great Hall. Ginny, Neville, Dean, Seamus, and some others join Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Ginny yawns “Anything interesting happen this morning?” looking around at the others. Hermione smiles “Other then Snape and Dumbledore fighting about something no”.They all laugh someone saying “When is Dumbledore not jumping down someone’s throat?”. Everyone finishes their breakfast before going off to class. Harry’s day was uneventful. He didn’t have potions, which he was glad for because he didn’t want to have to deal with Snape. At lunch he received a note from Professor Dumbledore:Harry, I would like to see you in my offices at 8pm this evening. Hope you are doing well. Care for some orange sherbet?Yours Most Sincerely,Albus DumbledoreHermione looks at Harry “What is it?” Harry smiles “Dumbledore just wants to see me in his office later tonight.” “Maybe he wants to talk to you about Snape. Perhaps he found someone better to train you now.” Ron says joining in on the conversations. Harry nods, and heads to the library since he has a free period after lunch. There are student scattered through out it some at large wooden tables some browsing the shelves. He and Ron get a start on their homework before going to their next class. After classes and dinner everyone heads to the common room to work on homework, chat, and play various wizarding games. When it is time, Harry gathers his things and puts them in his room before heading to the headmasters office. Upon arriving he say “Orange Sherbet” and is allowed in, knocking on the inner door before opening it. He enters seeing the headmaster and Snape sitting at the headmasters desk. “Ah, yes, it is that time, come in Harry have a seat”.Harry nods and sits down, seeing the normal tea pot and cups on Dumbledore‘s dark wooden desk. “You wanted to speak with me sir” not looking at or acknowledging Professor Snape. Dumbledore smiles looking at Harry through his half moon shaped glasses. A “Yes I feel the three of us need to sit down and talk. We can’t afford for you to not be training, Harry.”Harry nods glancing at Professor Snape “Well Sir. Snape..” Dumbledore frowns “Professor Snape Harry”Harry nods “Fine. Professor Snape refuses to train me and I must agree. He has been cruel that last few sessions. He does nothing but demean me and put me down. Telling me I am getting weaker when everyone else is telling me I am getting stronger. I want to continue to train, but I think someone else should train me.”Snape snorts and seems to glare at Harry before he starts speaking “On the contrary I think if Potter would only apply himself he would excel but he doesn’t care about his training. He is the one you demeans the training and me.”Harry’s face turns red and he is about to blow up when the headmaster speaks “I honestly don’t care how you two feel about each other. Severus you are a professor and need to treat Harry as a student not as his father. And Harry you are a student and need to treat Severus with respect. You both need to put your personal problems aside and learn to get along, during class and training sessions.” he sighs “I trust both of you can do that and start training again”Harry nods looking at Severus then back to Dumbledore “Sir I think you should find someone else to train me. I don’t feel comfortable or safe with Professor Snape training me anymore.”Snape looks shocked and sneers “You don’t feel comfortable or safe? Potter you aren’t supposed to be comfortable or safe during training.” Harry looks at Snape “I should be comfortable enough with whoever is training me to feel safe and confident they wont hurt me or cast something that will cause lasting damage. I don’t feel that way when we train lately.”Before Snape can reply to what Harry said Dumbledore speaks up “I can assure you Harry that Severus would never intentionally harm you or cast a lasting spell on you. Just because he spies for the Order, doesn’t mean he is a death eater at heart. He is not a malicious man and if you would give him a chance you would see he can be a very caring man. And Severus if you would look past the fact Harry is sixteen and James’ son, you would see he is truly becoming more powerful with your training not weaker. Also if you would stop seeing “the boy who lived” and see Harry you would realize he wants to be just another sixteen year old boy. He doesn’t want the fame and responsibility the wizarding world has thrust on him. He is being remarkably strong and courageous for his age.” He takes a deep breath “Can you two at least give the training another try and keep in mind what has been said here tonight?”They both nods Snape looking to the young man “Harry, can you meet me in my office at 7 tomorrow night? We can go over a reasonable schedule for training.” Harry nods “Yes sir.”Snape nods as well “Very well. I must be going Albus I have grading I must get done. I will see you both tomorrow.” He stands and leaves the room. Harry looks to Dumbledore “Is there anything else you need to speak with me about sir?”Dumbledore turns his head “No Mister Potter, you can go and fill in your friend who I am sure are anxiously awaiting your return” He grins “ Off you go, goodnight Harry”Harry stands leaving saying goodnight before he closes the headmasters door.~~~When Harry enters the common room Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are waiting for him. “How did things go? What did he want to talk to you about?” Ginny gushes as soon as Harry sits in a chair.Hermione nods her hair falling around her shoulders “Yes please tell us”Harry shakes his head at his over enthusiastic friends. “It was a meeting with Snape and Dumbledore. He wanted to talk to us about the training. Saying that Snape needs to treat me like a student not my father and that I need to be respectful and treat Snape like my teacher not a death eater”Ron frowns “But he IS a death eater!” his voice kind of loud.Hermione scowls “But that’s not ALL he is Ron!”Ginny laughs at the interaction. Turning back to Harry.Harry nods “He told both of us we need to forget our feelings toward each other and work together to make me stronger and more powerful. I have to meet Snape in his office tomorrow night to set up a training schedule.” Harry sighs.“That’s so unfair. I can’t believe he is making you train with that greasy git again” Ron face slightly red. Hermione “Honestly Ron. It will be good for Harry to train again and if they can put their differences aside and train like they did over the summer then it will be good for him”Ginny nods in agreement but Ron and Harry shake their head both saying “whatever”.Hermione huff and goes off to bed. Shortly after Ginny follows. Then the boy decide to go to bed. Ron falls asleep right away but Harry lays in bed for a while thinking about his conversation with Dumbledore and Snape. Wondering when things got so complicated. He finally falls asleep a couple hours later.
|
10019609
|
The Past is Never Far
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Pop Tate, Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews, Cheryl Blossom, Fred Andrews",
"Fandom": "Riverdale (TV 2017)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by hippiefairy",
"chapters": "1/3",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "1,276",
"Additional Tags": "warning for general grundyness, these kids need HELP, pop tate is a good guy, so is archie's dad, i haven't wrote anything in a while, i'm rusty and this probably sucks, Oh, and a warning for the sucky blossom parents too, may be a hint of jarchie in this, Not AU yet, i'm sure it will be after ep 6",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
To put it bluntly, Pop Tate had seen a lot of shit in his life, most of it involving the kids that came into his diner. He’d opened the diner with his father back before the current kids’ parents were even twinkles in
their
parent’s eyes. It had taken him a few years, but eventually he’d developed a good sense of when a kid needed some extra food on their plate, when they needed to be able to stay past closing, when they could use to earn a few extra dollars by sweeping the floor for him. He’d seen a lot of kids come and go, but there were some generations that were particularly special to him, usually the ones that needed him more, like this one. It was sad how many of them felt more at home in his diner than they did in their actual home. He did what he could and shook his head over how the “perfect” town of Riverdale couldn’t even take care of it’s own kids.
The diner was practically empty, would’ve been if Archie Andrews hadn’t been sitting in a booth by himself. Pop Tate frowned thoughtfully, this was a kid that most would think was doing alright. Good father, decent grades, rising star on the football team, worked hard at everything he did. To any outsider it would look like Archie Andrews was in a good place and had a great shot at doing more with his life. Pop Tate wasn’t so sure, he knew that something had to have happened to the kid, he wasn’t the high spirited boy that Pop Tate had watched grow up. No, Archie had grown quieter and quieter over the summer, and now, he seemed almost depressed… and maybe a little lost.
Perhaps a free milkshake would cheer him up some? Pop Tate nodded to himself, yes, it couldn’t hurt anyway. He had just finished pouring the creamy treat into a tall glass when the door opened and then closed, and he looked up to see the familiar sight of Jughead Jones joining Archie in his booth… well, not so familiar anymore. Nowadays Jughead usually sat by himself, even now it looked like he and the red haired boy were arguing instead of joking around like they used to.
“Another one then” Pop Tate whispered to himself, he couldn’t very well give Archie a free milkshake and not give the homeless kid one. Oh yes, he knew Jughead was homeless, just about killed him when he figured it out. If the the kid wasn’t so damn stubborn Pop Tate would just give him free food all the time. But, if the kid wasn’t so stubborn he wouldn’t be out on the streets. Pop Tate would just about guarantee that Fred Andrews would take the boy in if he knew.
Pop Tate placed the milkshakes on the tray and added a basket of fries as he snuck another look at the table. Jughead was looking worryingly thin. Not to mention cold and tired. How could Archie not see it? Was he really so wrapped up in his own problems? Pop Tate wondered, what about Jughead’s other friends? Betty Cooper had a good head on her shoulders, so did Kevin Keller… well, sometimes, Pop Tate amended as he remembered seeing Kevin hanging out with that one kid over in the not so good part of town. The kid was a Serpent if Pop Tate wasn’t mistaken, and he seldom was, he hoped that didn’t blow up in Kevin’s face.
He lifted the tray and shook the thoughts from his head, obviously if no one else was going to pay attention, he’d just have to do something about it. Was probably past time to have a talk with Fred.
“Uh, we didn’t order that” Archie said confusedly when Pop Tate placed the food on the table.
“A treat for two of my best customers… or you can call it a bribe” Pop Tate answered “it’s dead in here tonight and my old bones are tired, so if you boys will lock up when you leave I’ll just go on home after I clean up a bit”.
The old man didn’t miss how Jughead perked up just the slightest at that, he was willing to bet the kid would just stay all night. ‘Good’ he thought, better than him sleeping outside somewhere.
“Just put the dishes over on the counter before you leave” he said after they’d agreed to lock the door. He bustled off amidst their thanks and stood for a second in the kitchen, he was out of sight of them and he allowed himself a shake of the head as a mix of anger and sorrow swelled in him. What was it with this town? Things were the worst he’d ever seen them. He could count on his fingers how many kids were really alright. At least he knew that the two sitting in his diner were as alright as they could be tonight. He hoped the others were too.
Cheryl Blossom was a damn good example of a kid that deserved better. Pop Tate had seriously wondered a few times what would happen if he actually saw her parents somewhere, he wasn’t a violent man but if any two people deserved a good punch or three… he shook the thoughts off and took the redhead her milkshake. It was actually far too early for him to be open but, once again, one of his kids needed refuge. He wasn’t going to turn someone away just because he wasn’t open yet. He sat down across from Cheryl and waited patiently.
“Thanks Pop” she whispered, keeping her eyes on the glass.
“Which one was it this time?” he asked her gently.
“Both” she answered “they were blaming me again for happened to Jason” she sniffled and tried to surreptitiously wipe her eyes, she had steadfastly refused to cry in front of Pop Tate, except for the horrible night after her twin’s body had been found and he’d been the only one to even try to comfort her.
“It’s not your fault” Pop Tate told her as a hot rush of anger flooded through him, what kind of monster would tell their child something like that? She already seemed so close to breaking. Whatever he might of thought of her twin, he knew Jason had been her rock, and now who did she even have? Maybe that new girl, Hermione’s girl, Pop Tate hoped so. Hermione had always had good sense when she’d been younger, perhaps if her daughter took after her, Cheryl might have a chance… at least as much of a chance as any Blossom ever had in Riverdale.
“I should’ve been there for him” she disagreed “or I shouldn’t have helped him in the first place, I just never could say no to him, and he swore it was important”.
“It isn’t your fault” Pop Tate said firmly “and you can’t dwell on the what ifs, they’ll drive you crazy and Jason wouldn’t want that”.
He stood up then, knowing that she needed time alone to think.
“You know you can stay as long as you need” he told her, patting her hand and returning to his own refuge in the kitchen. There wasn’t much else he could for Cheryl, her parents too rich and influential for anyone to want to mess with them… although, a not so friendly reminder of a certain event to her father might help. He added that phone call to his mental list and decided it was as good a time as any to call Fred Andrews.
|
10099952
|
soulmates
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Takahashi (Ajin), Gen (Ajin)",
"Fandom": "亜人 - 三浦追儺 & 桜井画門 | Ajin - Miura Tsuina & Sakurai Gamon",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by cxrteo",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00",
"words": "2,471",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Gen/Takahashi (Ajin)",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“What’s a soulmate, Takahashi?” Gen asked, dragging out the end of Takahashi’s name as he leaned on his arm. Takahashi, who always had been taller than Gen, looked down at him and smiled his toothy grin.
“My mom said that they’re like... someone who’s very special to you, and you wanna spend forever with them!” He answered, turning his smile into a smirk. He crossed his arms and put on a proud face, like he had just explained a complex math problem to him. Which, in fact, was the complete opposite.
Takahashi watched contently as Gen contemplated something for a second.
“Does that mean you’re my soulmate?” He asked finally, looking back up to him.
A confused look passed over Takahashi’s face for a second as he thought of an answer.
“There’s other stuff, too.” Gen frowned at that. “Besides, we don’t get to find out until we’re way older. I even heard that some people don’t get to find out until they’re adults!”
Gen’s frown grew. “But Takahashi... what other stuff is there?”
He frowned with him and dropped his arms to his sides.
“They like... kiss and stuff-” He answered slowly. “Soulmates act like how moms and dads do, Gen.”
It was Gen’s turn to be confused. “But, what about that girl down the street from us? She has two moms! Are they not soulmates-?”
“W-Well, yeah they are. Why?”
“You said it like it’s bad to have a soulmate that’s a boy... when you’re a boy, too.” Gen answered.
Takahashi shook his head. “No, no. Well, some people don’t think it’s okay, like my parents... but I don’t think there’s something bad about it. That girl seems happy, so...”
Suddenly, something about Gen cracked. He began staring at the ground, his loose ponytail letting strands of hair fall to the front of his face.
“Gen? What’s wrong, Gen?” Takahashi grabbed his shoulders gently, leaning down to get a better look at his face. His frown had become just a thin line on his face.
He didn’t answer, but Takahashi wasn’t going anywhere. He persisted, giving Gen a tiny shake. Finally, the other took a shaky breath and looked up again.
“I’m not... happy.”
Takahashi stood there, confused. “What do you mean? Not happy about what?”
“...Don’t some people never get their soulmates?”
Takahashi slid his hands of the other’s shoulders and put them into his pockets. “Gen, that’s only if they die-” Then he shook his head. “Why are you worried about soulmate stuff anyways? We’re nine. We don’t have to worry about it until like... seven years from now.”
Gen giggled a little. “Nine years.” Takahashi just shrugged, waiting for Gen’s answer.
Gen just nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t worry about it. But... my old babysitter didn’t get one. Not even words or lines... nothing. But she’s still here. She didn't die?”
Takahashi clenched his hands in his pockets, not wanting to answer with the first thing that had popped into his head. But of course, he was always the one that couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He always voiced his opinion, no matter what it was.
“Maybe her soulmate did.” Six years later
Takahashi sat boredly in the cafeteria, alone as he picked at his breakfast with a fork. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked for messages from Gen. His inbox was empty, so he opened up his conversation with him from the night before.
T: hey why aren’t you at school yet
He sat his phone down on the table, trying his best to continue eating. It was way after the time that Gen arrives, and he always felt off whenever he wasn’t around. He frequently glanced at his phone, waiting for a response impatiently.
Finally, the screen lit up and a new message alert was there.
G: I don’t think I’m coming today :c
T: y
G: I feel like shit lol
T: thats not fair i had to suck it up lots of times to go to school >:c
G: Hey that was your decision
I’m going back to bed so I’ll text you when I get back up ok?
Takahashi rolled his eyes but gave a brief reply anyways. He put his phone into his pocket and stared at his breakfast, which seemed to have turned incredibly unappetizing in the few short minutes that he was talking to Gen. He tossed it into the trash can as he left the cafeteria, and realized that he enjoyed the silence of the hallways. The cafeteria was too loud, but Gen liked it there, so he never complained in front of him. But the hallways were barren, all of the students either in their classes, the gym, the library, or the cafeteria.
He passed a few stragglers who were rummaging through their lockers for their lost books. He honestly had no idea where his assigned locker was even at, so he carried everything in his pockets and arms. Never owned a backpack in his life, and besides, he could always shove it into Gen’s backpack if it was too heavy.
But of course, Gen wasn’t here.
He trudged into his first period class and sat in his usual seat. The only open spot was next to him, where Gen usually sat; the wall on the other side of Takahashi.
Gen rarely missed school, mainly because his mom would never let him stay home. It wouldn’t have mattered if he physically couldn’t move anymore; she’d still make him go. So being alone for the whole day isn’t something Takahashi was used to.
Soon enough, the teacher started attendance and he quickly realized just how long the day was going to be. Halfway through his last class of the day, he hadn’t received a single message from Gen. He wasn’t exactly worrying, but it was definitely strange to think he was still sleeping. Gen hated sleeping in; he felt like the day would be wasted if he didn’t get up so damn early. Takahashi could barely get up before 10.
He had already finished his work so he sat there, playing a game on his phone. Suddenly the message alert appeared and he didn’t hesitate to click it.
G: I’m at the hospital. Mom’s been in an accident.
Takahashi waited for a moment, wondering what he could say to that.
T: do you want me to come by after school ?
G: Yeah, please. I need a ride home anyways...
T: is she bad? what happened
G: Some asshole slammed head on into her when she was driving home apparently. They ran and I guess someone came along and called the police. I was told the police found her car on its side with the person who called the police and mom was passed out when they found her.
T: that’s fucked up that they hit and ran
is she like awake??
Gen didn’t reply for a while. The final bell rang by the time another message alert showed up.
G: No, she’s still out. The nurse came by and told me she has brain damage.
Takahashi stared at his phone, trying desperately to think of a way to respond as he walked through the hallways. Finally, he said that he would be there soon, and he shoved his phone into his pocket.
He blanked out, not realizing that he was shoving people out of the way as he hurried through the school. He heard a few people actually call out to him, but he didn’t care about it right now.
Gen was all that had ever mattered to him anyways.Two years later
Takahashi was laying in his bed, running his fingers down Gen’s back lightly. He wasn’t sure how else to comfort him.
Less than a day ago, his mom passed away; she was still deep into a coma, and it had been over two years since the accident. Gen’s father could no longer afford the medical bills keeping her alive, so he had set Gen down to tell him. But Gen knew, and Takahashi knew he knew.
So there they were, Gen sobbing quietly to himself in his bed, with Takahashi trying his best to let him know that he was still there, in the gentlest way he could.
He was angry. Gen didn’t deserve this. His mom, who was a sweet, kind lady, didn’t deserve this. Even his dad, who spent most of his money not used for medical bills on alcohol, didn’t deserve this. They were supposed to be happy. His parents were supposed to watch him graduate together, after he had worked so hard to get better grades for them. All he wanted was to get a better future set up for him, and get a good job so he could help pay the bills.
They were supposed to be happy, not like Takahashi’s parents.
When Takahashi had snapped out of his thoughts, he realized that his forehead was resting on the back of Gen’s neck, and Gen had fallen asleep, too.
He sighed, rolling over to face the ceiling. He tried his best to get rid of the angry feeling, but be became restless either way. Morning
Gen blinked his eyes open, pain shooting through his head. He always had headaches after crying himself to sleep.
“Taka?” He asked quietly.
No one answered, so he slapped his arm around behind him. Takahashi wasn’t there, so he turned to face the empty bed. He looked around his room, which was actually the basement of his house, and couldn’t find him.
Propping himself up on his elbows, he scooted onto Takahashi’s side and turned on his lamp. The room lit up, way too bright for this early in the morning, and he squinted around the room once more.
He was just going to text Takahashi when he heard something slam onto the floor above him.
Rolling his eyes, he stood up and started for the stairs, turning his lamp back off as he went.
When he got upstairs, Takahashi stood in the kitchen, staring sadly at the ground behind the island counter.
“The hell was that?” Gen asked tiredly.
Takahashi stared at him blankly, as if it were obvious. “The pan.”
“Pick it up?”
“It’s too hot.”
“It has a handle for a reason.”
“...That’s hot, too.”
Gen made a confused noise, walking over to the counter to lean onto it.
“I put it over the other stove part and it got hot. That’s why I dropped it-.”
Gen rolled his eyes, then realized he should stop doing that because it hurts.
“Why do you need both on? What are you doing?” Gen asked.
“I was making you breakfast.” Takahashi snarked back, grabbing the rag that Gen got from under the counter in midair. He picked up the pan hurriedly and placed it back on the stovetop. “...There’s headache medicine on the table for you. I know how you feel after crying.”
Gen grumbled a thanks and eventually, he was sitting at the kitchen table with pancakes and eggs in front of him.
“Does it...look like normal food?” Takahashi asked slowly, putting the pans into the sink.
Gen laughed to himself, nodding when Takahashi turned around to look for approval on his culinary ‘skills’.
“It looks good... Thank you.” Gen took a slow bite, honestly expecting it to taste terrible, but it wasn’t. Four months later
Gen stared at Takahashi, whose eyes were half lidded and his teeth biting his lip in a lewd expression. His hands were at Gen’s hips, gripping them gently. He rocked back and forth, sitting on top of Takahashi, a hand on his clothed chest. The other was placed over one of Takahashi’s hands.
Takahashi’s other hand boredly slipped down from Gen’s side to in between his legs, resulting in a very shaky breath from him. The music almost covered it.
Takahashi smirked amusedly, opening his eyes more to look at Gen.
“You’re hot like this.” He moaned to him.
They smiled at each other, listening to the music as it ran down their spines. Takahashi turned his arm under the light, looking at the dark markings going up from his wrist to almost his elbow. He got them nearly a year ago, when he was just turning seventeen. Gen’s had arrived more slowly, and in a different form. It appeared as two straight lines crossing on his forearm, like a T. Takahashi always had to make a joke about it obviously standing for his name, and that maybe the markings on his arm would eventually spell out Gen’s name or something.While they did worry that they weren’t actually soulmates, they often forgot about it. A few sweet words to each other were enough to remind them that it was real. Even just hanging out with each other never got boring, seeing as Takahashi has next to no filter, physically or mentally. Gen often catches Takahashi staring at him during school. He denies it though, of course. They loved each other more than anything in the world. They knew everything about the other, to the smallest detail, because they were always next to each other. Being together was the normal, and it felt strange when the other wasn’t there.After they graduated, Takahashi promised he’d get the jobs to pay for Gen’s college, and in return, Gen would marry him one day. He had it all planned out, to the date, approximately, as Gen had to remind him, and where they were going to move to after it all. Those years of Takahashi working tirelessly so he could afford everything left him feeling drained and lonely, especially since he came home to an empty house almost every night. It didn’t help that Gen could only really come over on the weekends, but he still cherished the moments they had together. But that couldn’t stop him from stealing things from his drug dealer. Gen worked tirelessly as well, studying mindlessly, trying to get the best grades he could manage, so that he could leave there and find a good job, and he would be able to pay back Takahashi for everything, and not just with the marriage. It was near his last year.
Gen curled up in a corner of his dorm room, shaking in terror. His books were strewn about his side of the room, his things knocked over and a mess on the floor. He stared at his phone, flashing off as it died. The screen was ruined; a dent in the wall where he had thrown it.
There was a message from Takahashi’s mom, telling him he needed to get to the hospital where the only thing that mattered to him was in.
But it didn’t matter. He watched his arm, the T clearly fading away.
Takahashi was already dead.
|
10039382
|
There is no plan
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Taehyung | V, Jeon Jungkook",
"Fandom": "방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by NeyleiTarento",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-09-08T00:00:00",
"words": "4,165",
"Additional Tags": "Comedy, they both like jimin, I tried to make it funny, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, TaeKook dissing each other, Bottom Park Jimin, Top Kim Taehyung | V, Top Jeon Jungkook, Alternate Universe - College/University",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook & Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
"Hey, Tae-hyung. Can I...uh, tell you something?"
The older of the two looks up from his smartphone, eyebrow raised curiously. He locks his phone and puts it on the table, propping his elbows on the desk and resting his chin on his hands.
"Mate... Dude. I know I'm perfect and stuff and I appreciate the fact that you have the guts to tell me directly like this," Taehyung starts in a serious tone. And Jungkook just looks away with a scoff, encouraging his friend to continue his monologue with a wave of his hand. Taehyung doesn't break into a smile even if it looked like he might for a second.
Instead, he puts his hands on his chest and furrows his eyebrows as in pain.
"My lil' Jungkookie, you know I love you with all my heart, you're my ol' pal and bro for life, but I can't return your feelings-"
"Are you done yet?" Jungkook asks, taking his iced coffee and sipping through the straw, finding out there is not much of the beverage left in the blue box. Taehyung frowns at him, corners of his mouth pulled down: "You can't appreciate true art."
Jungkook now stops swinging on his chair, leans with his forearm on the desk and points a finger at his older friend: "You weren't even quoting an important author, so how is that me not appreciating art?"
Taehyung is staring at the black-haired boy for a few seconds, before he throws his hands in the air, giving up: "All right, you got me there. What did you want to say?"
"I found myself a fuck-buddy," Jungkook finally confesses, eyes sparkling and Taehyung raises an eyebrow: "Oh, you tried your left hand the other day?"
Jungkook slaps Taehyung's arm.
"God, hyung I’m trying to make you jealous here by telling you that I actually spend time with someone else than you and you are... you," Jungkook waves his hand and looks away, lips pouted.
"God or hyung? Choose one, it's confusing if you call me by two names..." Taehyung says, not listening to Jungkook's bickering. Then he waits for his friend to take another sip from his coffee, to say: "I found one too. He’s in my class and quite... creative, I guess you could say."
Jungkook chokes on the liquid and sputters it in the air in front of him, just glad that there wasn't someone walking by. Sitting in the not so empty cafeteria, there are people turning to him with chuckling or judging expressions on their faces. Jungkook's cheeks get red at the sudden attention.
"Hyung could you not- wait, what?" The younger boy faces his friend again, "I wanted to be the first one! Since neither of us is a fan of relationships."
"Ah, Jungkookie. You won't ever be ahead of your awesome hyung," Taehyung coos at the other boy, pinching Jungkook's cheeks. The younger pushes his hands away immediately, not wanting to be treated like a child.
"Go fuck yourself."
"Now here is the fun thing because I can say I have someone to fuck now and-"
~.~
"Jungkook? You alright?"
The addressed boy is laying on the bed in his room, one hand under his head and second one scraping against his stomach unknowingly. He turns his head to the right, watching the male who spoke before pulling on his shirt.
"Yeah, sure. Just thinking about something."
"Then don't furrow your eyebrows like this, you're gonna get wrinkles and end up alone with seventy-four cats."
"The hell. First, my best friend is mocking me and now you too? Today sucks," Jungkook mutters, rolling on his side, burning his eyes into the smaller guy's petite figure.
"Aw, sorry Jungkookie. I'll make it up to you one day," the blond male walks back to the bed and kneels on it, kissing the younger boy on the cheek playfully, "Now I have to go. Too much work to do. Will you see me to the front door?"
Jungkook turns his eyes to the other male and after a few seconds of staring at his lips he finally sits up, running a hand through his hair. He dresses quickly, feeling the other boy's gaze lingering on him and when he faces him, he comes closer, sneaking his hands around Jungkook's waist and moving them down to grip his ass: "How about we switch positions sometimes? You have a really nice butt."
Jungkook stares at the smaller male with wide eyes, a fearful expression creeping on his face.
"Nope, no way. That's not gonna happen. But thanks," he stutters quickly, making his companion crack up, his jingle-bell like laugh filling the silence of Jungkook's room.
"I was joking, Kookie. I love your dick way too much to-" the boy doesn't finish what he was saying, because Jungkook bends down to him and presses his lips against his, pushing him back onto his bed.
"Did you say you have to meet up with someone later?" Jungkook asks, leaving the other man's lips, when he pushes him on the bed and crawls on top of him, leaning closer to pepper kisses on the man's neck.
"Yeah, about an hour ago, when we were in the exact same position as we are now. I told you that I don't have much time today so we have to make it fast."
"Is it important?" the younger asks, nibbling on the skin under the older boy's lower jaw, making his breath hitch in his lungs.
"N-no, not really," the smaller man stutters, fingers sliding down to cup the back of Jungkook's neck, second one tangling in the short hair, pressing him closer to his neck, "I guess it can wait another hour."
~.~
"Taehyungie!"
Taehyung snaps his head up from being thoroughly engrossed in the game he's been playing while waiting for the slightly older male to show up. Now he stands up from the railing he was sitting on and waits for the other boy to come closer.
"Did you get my text? You weren't waiting here for the whole hour, right?"
Taehyung closes the game and just now notices that the other boy indeed sent him a message that something came up and he will meet him later. So Taehyung acts as if nothing happened and pushes the device down the pocket of his jacket, smiling: "I just got here a few minutes ago."
It would be embarrassing to confess he was so into the game that he spent more time sitting on the railing than he intended to.
The smaller withdraws his own phone from his jean pocket and frowns: "But it says you haven't read it."
Taehyung's smile freezes on his face, then he laughs: "It's not important. Now you're here, right? So let's go."
The older male looks at him suspiciously, then just shakes his head putting the phone back in its previous place. Taehyung is glad he's not questioning anything even though he is sure the other boy knows.
Taehyung starts walking towards the nearby cinema and then he gets popcorn and nachos (because he loves nachos but his company is more of a fan of popcorn - of sweet popcorn). Once they sit down in the mildly lit room, all the way in the back, Taehyung starts talking animatedly, frowning lightly every time there is a new couple or a group of people coming in and settling somewhere in the room.
"There sure is a lot of people here," Taehyung points out and the other boy turns his head to him, munching on the popcorn. He swallows and licks the tips of his fingers, then faces Taehyung again: "You should do a good job at holding your voice in then once my hand reaches down your pants."
"Wouldn't it be more fun the other way around?" Taehyung asks, partly because he is not sure if he now wants to let the other boy jerk him off in a room full of people even if they can't see him.
The boy beside him chuckles quietly, then leans closer, whispering in Taehyung's ear: "I’m no good at holding my voice in. You know that, don't you? But we can go back to your place after since we couldn't before the movie."
~.~
It's a week later when Jungkook and Taehyung have the free hour on their schedule that they're used to spending together in the school cafeteria. There are not many opportunities to meet up when they have different classes since Taehyung is two years older and thus they have different schedules as well.
"You never told me who your fuck-buddy was, Kookie," Taehyung says, downing the doughnut in his hands as if he hasn't eaten in years. Jungkook pulls a face at his best friend's behaviour, watching the crumbs falling on the table just a few centimetres away from his hands.
"Because you never asked. Anyway, you're disgusting, Don't speak while eating," Jungkook pushes his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, hiding them from Taehyung's threatening saliva.
Taehyung cracks his eyebrow up and gazes down, wiping the crumbs away from the small table, then taking Jungkook's iced coffee and slurping from the straw.
"Oh, big Jungkookie, a dear friend of mine, please tell me who are you worshipping now in your sacred bedroom," Taehyung moves his hands in the air as if he was on a stage, performing Shakespeare's Hamlet or something. And Jungkook's pupils turn towards the ceiling finding out that it's actually painted yellow just as the lower half of the walls in the cafeteria.
The younger man shakes his head and faces his friend again, taking back his box of coffee, right from Taehyung's hands.
"Now if you listen to me, I might actually tell you. He is older than me and-"
"So you're on the bottom?" Taehyung interrupts him and Jungkook freezes, opening his mouth but no words come out.
"No?" he squeaks in the end, eyes wide, hands pressed into his lap. Taehyung is staring at him, blinking slowly.
"Oh. just, the guy I sleep with tried to get me on the bottom just because he's like, three months or something older. And n- NO, don't look at me like that, I am NOT on the bottom. Well, not all the time, I mean- don't say anything."
Jungkook's smirk widens, leaning back in his chair, looking at his older friend all smug and self-satisfied. Taehyung buries his face in his palm, not meeting the other male's gaze.
"I would really love to make fun of you now, hyung, but I slept for three hours because I was playing games and my brain cannot produce any ideas right now," Jungkook says, his voice light and teasing, making Taehyung frown at him with a newly found energy.
"So he's older than me, but he's like- oh."
Jungkook turns his head towards the entrance of the cafeteria, seeing a blond male walking in, a baby blue sweater hugging his torso and thin waist perfectly.
Taehyung rises his head too and both of them speak at the same time.
"Jimin-ah!"
"Jimin-hyung!"
The sitting boys look at each other, not knowing what to think in that moment, then they turn their gazes back to the startled male few meter away from them. He waves at his friends to go and walks towards the table where the boys are sitting.
"Oh hey, what's up?" Jimin asks, seemingly trying to hold back his surprise at seeing his two friends with benefits sitting at one table as long time buddies.
"Hyung, you know each other?" Jungkook asks first, eyes darting from Jimin to his best friend, confusion sprawled across his cute face. Jimin just looks at Taehyung without saying anything. He really wants Taehyung to lie and say that they don't know each other but his dear classmate blurts out faster than he can even think: "He's the guy I was talking about."
"Now this is awkward," Jungkook says out loud what all of them were thinking and Jimin sighs, turning the closest chair backwards so he can straddle it while leaning with his hands against the back of the chair, backpack still on his own back.
"It's not really. Well, maybe a little bit, but that's not a problem, is it? It's not like anyone of us is cheating if you're into this kinda thing," Jimin says, resting his chin on his hands, looking up, eyes darting from Jungkook to Taehyung and back.
Both of them stay quiet and then Jungkook opens his mouth: "So Jimin-hyung tried to make you bottom? And you agreed?" he bursts out laughing, the vision of the small, #small male coming onto Taehyung way too funny to try to hold his laugh in.
"It happened like two times!" Taehyung defends himself. Jimin giggles, hiding his face behind his hand, making the other two look at him.
"Jungkookie, I had you on the edge too, don't lie. It would be like maybe two or three more meet ups and you would be on the bottom too."
Jungkook pouts his lips: "No way. I told you that's not possible, hyung."
Taehyung was quiet for some time, eyes burning a hole in the desk of the table.
"Hey, Jimin-ah, who of the two of us is better?"
"Hyung, really?" Jungkook looks at him and Taehyung points a finger at him: "Don't tell me you don't want to know!"
Meanwhile, Jimin looks at him wide-eyed, not knowing what to say. It's not like it's even polite to answer such a question in the first place. And the second problem is that he really doesn't know. Both of them were good but too different. That's why he had two fuck-buddies and not just one. Each of them could do something better but sucked on some other thing (his dick mostly).
But that's not the point.
"I can't say that. It's not considerate to answer questions like that," he mutters, but the younger boys look at him frowning, hands already fisted in each other's shirts, ready to fight.
"Hey, if you're going to fight, do it without me, I ain't gonna be a part of that," Jimin says, straightening his back and both of the boys look at each other again, slowly relaxing and falling back into their seats.
"Jiminie, are you going with us, or-"
The blond turns his head, watching his friends at the entrance again, Hoseok holding two cups of coffee. And Jimin stands up: "Let's work this out some other time. Or let's not think about it at all, that would be even better. I gotta go now."
The blond leaves their sight while laughing with the unknown man beside him, who hands him his coffee and then wraps his arms around the blond's waist, which sets a weird feeling into their stomach that neither of them want to admit it.
"What about a competition?" Taehyung asks after a few minutes of silence, interrupted just by Jungkook's quiet slurping from the coffee box. The younger male looks at him while blinking, slowly getting back to reality: "What do you mean?"
"One of us should call him to his place and then we could easily solve who of us is better. I think Jimin would have nothing against it since he's already sleeping with both of us," Taehyung says and Jungkook watches him silently.
"I’m not really sure-"
"Are you going to admit I’m the better lover here? 'Cause I’m not giving up until you admit it to my face."
"... Okay then, let's do it."
~.~
"You sounded really urgent when you called me, Jungkookie. What happened? Are you afraid that Taehyung will take me from you?"
Jungkook cracks a corner of his mouth up, pushing the door open so Jimin can shuffle inside his flat. They both know the routine. It doesn't take long until the older man shows up in Jungkook's bedroom but he freezes in place when he sees Taehyung sitting on the bed, playing with his phone.
"What is this about? Do you want to talk about this whole situation again?" Jimin asks, glancing over his shoulder when he hears the youngest closing the door. Jungkook comes closer to him, sneaking hands around Jimin's waist and pressing his chest on the smaller man's back.
Taehyung puts his phone away, then turns towards the couple by the door: "We decided that it would be better to solve this little problem with our actions instead of words."
Jimin lets the youngest set kisses on his neck, meanwhile he doesn't break the eye contact he holds with his classmate: "I think you're solving a different problem here, like- ouch, Jungkook, don't bite. You're obviously not solving the problem that you're friends and you've been sleeping with the same person. Seriously, Kookie, I’m trying to talk here," the older male turns his head and looks up, eyes piercing into the dark ones of the other boy.
"We want you to tell us who is a better lover," Jungkook says in low voice, hands moving under Jimin's sweater and shirt. Jimin's eyes snap wide and he turns his gaze back to Taehyung, who is now nodding in agreement.
"You can't be serious, do you want to kill me? What are you planning? Taking turns? Or do it at the same time? I mean it sounds kind of hot when I think about it, but- Jungkook! Stop biting you know I don't like it when you leave marks on me- but I-, yeah, it really sounds hot, why didn't you come up with this earlier?"
Jimin seems to lose himself, his aimless blabber faltering when Jungkook's hands make a quick process with the belt of his jeans and one of them slips under his underwear, fingers wrapping around his dick, Jungkook's lips still on the back of his neck.
Taehyung exchanges a surprised look with his best friend. He didn't think that it would be this easy to convince Jimin into participating in a... yeah, threesome. To be honest, Taehyung didn't have a plan. Neither did Jungkook so both of them just did what seemed right at the time.
Taehyung walks over to the pair and tugs Jimin's jeans down, undressing him with a bit of help from the youngest boy. Together they haul Jimin on the bed, the smallest of them sitting in the middle with his back against Jungkook's chest while sitting between his legs. Taehyung kneels in front of them, motioning to Jungkook to remove the baby blue sweater and he does, taking Jimin's shirt along with it and the boy stays with only his boxers and socks left. Taehyung takes care of the latter because socks were not sexy.
"So, who's gonna go first?" Taehyung asks, but Jungkook is way too bothered by Jimin's leaking cock in his fist to care about his other hyung at that moment. So Taehyung throws a tantrum. If Jungkook doesn't want to have rules, then fine.
The boy leans towards the bedside table to get lube that he knows Jungkook has in there. As he finds it, he returns to Jimin, pulling down his boxers.
"Tae- be-, do it slowly, I- I haven't done it in a few days so," Jimin speaks up, eyes darting towards the younger male. his breathing is fast and his heart is beating like crazy, his cheeks and shoulders flushing red. Taehyung bites on his lower lip, Jimin was too sexy for his own good. If Taehyung didn't know that he could hurt his pretty body with such a rash action, he would've fucked him right there as he was half sitting, half laying in front of him, legs apart and feet pressed against Taehyung's thighs. Now he just shuffles to make himself a bit more comfortable even with the pulsing hard-on in his pants and he opens the bottle of lube, covering his fingers with just the right amount. He spreads some of it around Jimin's hole before he actually pushes one digit in, looking up to observe Jimin's expression.
And Jimin is all about that hand wrapped around his dick, softly whimpering Jungkook's name every time the boy slows down the pace he is jerking him with. Taehyung then pushes his finger further down the tight heat, wiggling it around, searching for that one particular spot.
"F-fuck, Tae, righ-t, right there- oh my god," Jimin draws out between his moans and Taehyung looks up, locking his gaze with Jungkook's: "Don't let him cum just yet, it would be a pain to wait until he gets down from his high."
Jungkook chuckles, kissing Jimin's temple.
"Roger."
The youngest tightens his grip just around the base of Jimin's cock, his other hand moving on the older man's hip to hold him down. And Jimin whines, one hand on Jungkook's wrist, nails of the second one digging into Taehyung's leg while the boy pushes another finger inside Jimin's body.
"Jimin-ah, who's better now? Do you want Jungkook to let go of your cock or me to pull my fingers out of your ass?"
Jimin opens his eyes, looking at Taehyung with fear: "No- you, don't you dare do that, neither of you- I can't- I want to cum, let me cum- seriously if one of you stops, I will kill you."
"You're so adorable, hyung," Jungkook whispers, sending a light chill down Jimin's spine. Taehyung starts scissoring Jimin open, then a third finger joins the other two. Jungkook slowly starts moving his hand again and Jimin feels tears pricking in his eyes with the increasing speed.
"Ah, fuck I’m- I’m so clo-" Jimin doesn't finish his sentence once the orgasm rushing through his body makes him arch his back and moan loudly, eyes shut and fingernails digging deep into the skin of the other two boys.
Taehyung pulls out his fingers when Jimin's body goes limp and wipes them off on the bedsheet, watching as Jungkook pulls off his shirt and then wipes his own hand of Jimin's cum.
"Jimin-ah, what was better? Jungkook's hand or my fingers?" Taehyung asks, running his hands on Jimin's beautifully ripped thighs.
The blond opens his eyes a bit, looking up at Jungkook and then at Taehyung with glossy eyes.
"Your fingers."
"That's a point for me, Jungkookie."
"But we're not stopping here. I can easily gain more points."
"Nah, you're still a kid."
"And that means he has a lot more energy than an old guy like you, Tae," Jimin chuckles, just for the sake of seeing Taehyung's offended face.
"Let's see who’ll last longer then."
~.~
"Hey, guys, do you even remember how many points you have?"
It's the morning after and Jimin wakes up sandwiched between the two taller men, all of them still sweaty and exhausted even after sleep. Well, they didn’t sleep for long anyway since they all woke up at the moment that Jimin's alarm went off in his jeans; Jungkook had to get up to find the piece of clothing in the room after Taehyung said he would rather let himself be suffocated by a pillow than get up from bed so early.
"It doesn't matter," Taehyung mutters into his pillow and Jungkook scoots onto the bed again, settling himself close to Jimin's warm body.
"I’m sure I’ve won since I’m better than hyung at everything," Jungkook whispers, face in Jimin's hair, eyes already closed.
"I hate to break it to you, but since my alarm went off, I should get up. I need to shower," Jimin says, determined because he's not one to skip school. Neither of the guys beside him makes a move or even a sound so Jimin just wriggles out, crawling on the other side of the bed and then stands up, just to have his legs give out under his weight right after. He falls on the floor with a pained mewl and now both of the taller boys are up, helping Jimin on his legs again. And when Jimin tries to actually leave them, they just pull him back in the bed, wrapping their limbs around him like an octopus.
"I’ll lend you my notes later," Taehyung mutters, shuffling closer to Jimin, nudging his head in the crook between the boy's shoulder and neck.
Jungkook secures his arms around the boy's waist and buries his face in Jimin's hair, whispering: "Hyung, you won't have them either if you don't go to class."
"Can you both just shut the fuck up if you're not going to help me?" Jimin asks, cutting them both off and they stay silent.
But the silence doesn't last long because Taehyung feels the need to share all of his thoughts: "Pretty things shouldn't swear."
"Jiminie is not a thing, hyung."
"To hell with both of you. I’m leaving," Jimin says suddenly, being done with their shit at that very moment and when he makes an attempt to sit up, the boys just pull him back onto the bed, saying sorry and "We won't do it again, so stay."
|
10017029
|
Personal Data Breach
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Main Character (Mystic Messenger), 707 | Luciel Choi, Saeran Choi, Unknown, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)",
"Fandom": "Mystic Messenger (Video Game)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by sarkaztik (orphan_account)",
"chapters": "4/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "13,732",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff, Angst, Death, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon, Alternate Universe, Hacker!MC, Flashbacks, Depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Past Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Heavy Angst, Swearing, Spoilers, Seven's Name spoilers, Seven's Route Spoilers, Crying, lots of it too, add tags later, Polyamory, Polyamorous relationship",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "707 | Luciel Choi/Main Character, 707 | Luciel Choi/Reader, 707 | Luciel Choi/Original Character(s)",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": "F/M, Gen, Multi",
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“Hey, you think we cou- Oh my god, SAEYOUNG, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”Seven screeched in panic, pushing back in his seat and away at a speed that his chair couldn’t keep up with, tipping over as his wheel halted and set his balance off until he was left groaning on the ground, with an ache in his neck.“MC,” He grunted, re-adjusting his glasses to stare at the guilty look on her face, “What, was THAT FOR!” He clambered off of his chair with a few wriggles, before pushing himself up to his feet to glare at the brunette, unimpressed evident behind his frames.She laughed awkwardly, sheepishly, rubbing at the back of her neck as she averted her gaze, “Uh, funny story,” She tried, but Seven crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his hip on an angle, tapping his foot. ‘Annoyed and sassy, noted’ MC thought to herself and she dropped her arms.“Your drink is too close…”“My drink?..Thats..-That’s what you scared me for!” They both looked at his desk, where a half filled can of PhD Pepper sat, innocently, at the side of his keyboard.MC shrunk more, her bangs covering her at a perfect angle that blocked her eyes from Seven’s view as he towered before her, “You’d get sticky keys if it spilt.. or you’d mess up your computer…”“I-“ Seven groaned, pinching his nose just beneath his glasses with a heavy sigh, “It’s fine, MC, I’ve been doing this for ages and it’s never spilt. Just…Don’t go freaking me out like that, or I might accidentally spill it.”“I know, I know, sorry..”Seven seemed to be thinking over something, but MC didn’t question it. He picked up his seat before dropping into it, having to scoot forward a bit before he turned and beckoned MC over with a hand.“Huh?- Hey!”He grabbed her arm, effectively using his foot to trip her, only to groan his regrets as she fell into his lap harder than expected. She punched him in the chest, huffing a ‘That’s what you get’, before settling herself comfortably. He straightened up, fingers returning to keys and eyes returning to the screen before him.They sat there for a while. Seven typed - a bit loudly, in MC’s opinion - while MC pondered over many things: What food to get later when they go shopping, Zen’s unbelievable figure, How Saeran is doing, Jaehee’s untouchable persistence, why Seven was typing that-“Huh?”“Huh?” MC squeaked, snapping out of your thoughts. Seven laughed softly.“Why are you pointing at the screen?”“I am?” She was. She looked where her finger pointed, almost accusingly, at a section of letters and dashes on the screen. She blinked, only to have her hand retreat as she squeaked again and her cheeks glow pink.Seven stared at her with a confused expression, although she couldn’t see, so he opted with staring at the back of her head.“I uh… thought I saw my name?” ‘Why did she say it like a question’“None of those letters match your name, babe,” He teased with a laugh. She laughed along. Change the subject, quickly.“I guess I need to get glasses then, don’t you think?” He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulders, before he continued typing.“As cute as you are in my glasses, I need them right now,”“You’re going to deprive me of my cuteness?”“Only because it’s my kryptonite,”“So the Defender of Justice does have a weakness! Now I shall exploit your darkest secret as my revenge!” She cackled a villainous laugh, springing up from his lap and dashing out of the room before he had the chance to hold her still.“Forgive me!” He cried out after her, grinning from ear to ear when he heard a loud, “Never!” in reply.“You two are gross.” Seven whipped around to face the door, only getting the chance to see Saeran as he passed the door, looking rather bored. “But we love you, Saeran,” Seven gasped, hand clutched to his chest, only to smile at his brothers unimpressed glare before he went out of view with a muttered, “Whatever…”And the day continued like that. MC would hang out with Seven every now and then, bringing in food and drinks that she insisted were for herself (“Uh-huh, that’s why you brought enough for two, right?”) while he continued to stay seated and type. Saeran came around to hang out with the two, sitting to the side of Seven quietly, only using his voice to chastise Saeyoung when he did something wrong, (“That doesn’t go their..idiot”). Their days were calm and flowed easily, and all three relished in it.——————“It’s pretty funny,”
“What is?” MC piped up, staring at her lover curiously. The three were hanging about, Saeran and Seven besides one another in front of the computer while MC lounged on the small reading chair she had tucked into the room’s corner after the first few weeks of living with the twins - If she was gonna hole herself up with Saeyoung, she wanted to do it in comfort at least. Saeran didn’t react, except for making a small noise, curious himself.Seven smiled at the screen, taking as a small break. He yawned loudly, stretching his arms high in the air before pushing back into his seat with a sigh. “I never believed I’d be happy after everything that’s happened, and yet here we are.”
MC smiled, glancing at Saeran then at Seven, who stared at her with his own soft smile. He was earnest, you could read it on his face from a mile away, and MC felt her heart flutter at the sincerity.“You deserve it,” she responded, sliding a bookmark in place as she placed her book to the side, “You both do,” She added as she turned to Saeran. He turned as well to face her, nothing readable in his expression until he ducked away, hiding his face behind his hair. No doubt, a blush evident on his cheeks. MC smiled at the thought.“You deserve it, too,”MC’s gaze snapped back to Saeyoung as he spoke, shock evident in her features, which confused him.“What do you mean?” It sounded like a demand, MC’s intense yet nervous stare that made Saeyoung pause and think. He wasn’t sure what had caused such a tense change, had he said something wrong? “Well… I mean, everything the happened with RFA must have been stressful…right?”MC softened in realisation, mumbling a soft “oh..” to herself. Seven’s brows furrowed, confusion settling deep. Now she was fine? He couldn’t understand. Did he want to understand?Yeah, probably.“It was nothing,” She shrugged, “Well, as ‘nothing’ as the risk of dying can get,” She laughed nervously.
“But… It was nice. Meeting you all,” She continued, now staring at her lap where hands fiddled restlessly. “Jaehee is probably one of the closest girl friends i’ve managed to make before with a love for caffeine that rivals my own, and Zen is like, my protective older brother who is really damn talented and get’s all the girls,” Both Seven and MC laughed at that.“Then Yoosung is cute and easy to tease-“
“Hey! I’m cute too!”
MC snorted a small laugh, Seven smiled, and then she continued, “He helps out with LOLOL from time to time, too, which is nice. He always helps cook when he comes around, unlike some people,” Saeyoung and Saeran both shrunk, ducking their head in unison that practically showed that yeah, these two are definitely twins.“Jumin…” She paused, thinking on her words, “He’s nice. He shows it in his own way, but it’s still there, and you feel like you’ve always got a support there no matter what?” Was that the right way to put it? Yeah, “It’s reassuring, knowing you’ve got someone with a fair amount of power beside you…” —————
“Don’t stress! We’ve got the strongest lady backing us up,” A male voice piped up cheerfully though the earpiece. MC smiled a small, shy smile.
“I’m not the strongest-“
“Can it, missy. You are, and you know it. Now open the door!” With a sigh, and a few seconds of key tapping, she heard a gleeful “Alright!” from the earpiece and then 4 dots on the screen were dashing past what the map showed as a doorway.
“I’m not that good at this, you guys..”
“Yeah, totally. That’s why the boss didn’t want you on the field, right?” A feminine voice, oozing with enough sarcasm to make MC click her tongue in annoyance at the personal jab.
MC scowled, “I’m still not, technically, on the field either. I’m still holed up in a dumb room looking after you four children.”
“Hey! We are not children!” The first voice screeched in protest, “I turned 18 two months ago, thank you!”
“Well, physically, yeah,” A low voice retorted. MC felt like she could hear the triumphant grin through the com if she tried hard enough, which made her laugh.
“Why you-!”
“You two are gonna get us caught if you keep shouting…” The last person to speak piped up, quietly, and everyone shushed with mumbles of ‘Right’s and ‘Sorry’s.
It was quiet, and MC decided to distract herself by watching the 4 blips blink and move through hallways and turns.
“We won’t get caught,” The female voice assured, breaking the silence, “We’ve got the strongest lady backing us up don’t we?”
Sounds of affirmation followed.
The female laughed softly, “Then that should be reassurance enough.”
———————“Hey!”Why was she breathing so hard?
Why did her heart ache so badly?Why was Saeyoung so close and … worried?She blinked and gulped, looking down to find her hand clutched tightly where her heart hid. She looked up to meet Seven’s eyes, who had his hands cupping her face; The intense worry she saw made her gulp again. Another memory.She didn’t even realise Saeran, who still sat by the desk, but now facing her with a mirrored expression of worry as Seven. Was it really that bad?A tear slipped over her cheek as an answer to her question, one that Seven hastily wiped away.“Are you okay?” The simple question felt so packed with concern, MC visibly flinched.“I’m .. I’ll be fine,” She nodded, Who am I convincing? She didn’t know.“You su-““I’ll be fine!” Her outburst shocked Saeyoung, surprising Saeran in the process. More tears fell, Why now!She trembled, tears clouding her vision as she sat there, submerging into her thoughts until she could feel her heart thudding at her ears. Saeyoung, unsure on how to handle the situation, backed away slowly.“I want-“ She choked her words out through her sobs, hands clasping at her mouth as the bubbling anxiety in her gut threatened bile to spill. Seven softened, staring at her with a notion of encouragement.“I want.. to go to bed,” She managed wearily, as she dropped her hands to her lap. They shook badly, and she didn’t want to see. She stood up, and Seven looked prepared to catch her if she were to fall. He reached for her wrist, testing her boundaries. When she didn’t refuse, he took hold and pulled her closer.“Let’s get you to bed then,” He whispered softly, and led her to the bedroom, mumbling loving words softly into her ear as they walked - MC managed to stumble majority of it. The sun still sat visible in the horizon as MC was laid into bed, and if anyone noticed, they didn’t mention it.—————————
“Hey, hey! What’s happening over there?”
“I don’t know - He - We can’t -“
“You can’t what? What’s happening!”
“Karma’s stuck! He’s stuck!”
“What do you mean he’s stuck?!”
“The fuck do you think I mean, asshole? He’s trapped in there!”
“Get him out, then!”
“I’m TRYING!”
“Oi, hacker lady, can’t you help?!”
“I-i’m trying, b-but I-“
“Karma, can you hear me?! Karma, talk to me!”
MC listened to the shrieking through the earpiece, each yell and each horrible sound of a bullet being fired ringing through her ears like it was there. She was bashing her keys at this point, frantically looking for a way to save him. Save them. Why couldn’t she save him?
“- I think something ….. block …. can’t move” More shouts were thrown as Karma’s voice crackled through, cutting out in chunks.
“You can’t move? What’s blocking?! Karma!’’ The demolition screamed, her volume making MC flinch despite the large distance between them. Her cries were loud, a heavy pounding echoing into MC’s headset as she bashed against the metal door that blocked her from her team mate- her friend.
“-Taru, we can’t stay here-“
“Shut up! Shut up, shut up!” She screamed in a chant, her fist’s banging louder against the heavy door.
“I’ll save you, K! You hear me?! You’re coming out of there, and we’re gonna grab some ice cream and you’re gonna laugh,” MC could her sobs through the intercom. She watched as two blips on her screen stood before each other, a thick clear space separating them on the map.
“You’re gonna laugh and, and.. you’re gonna celebrate your birthday. You’re gonna be 19,” She wailed. Two other blips were dashing from one side of the screen and slowly to the two frozen blips.
“I’ll take you for drinks, and you’ll get a-absolutely smashed. I-i-i’m gonna teach you how to cure a hangover and- w-wait, hey! Hey, no! Put me down!”
MC watched as there blips grouped together before they began moving again. One remained still, not moving.
“I’m sorry,”
“You can’t! Please, you can’t! Put me down!”
“We won’t survive if we stay here, Leo! This place is crumbling”
“We can’t leave him!”
“We must!”
“NO!”
Leona broke into sobs, crying loudly and MC’s heart ached. She could only watch, she couldn’t do anything. She was so sure this would be okay- that they’d be okay, so why did this happen?
“Hey.. Leo?”
The once shrill and cheerful voice sounded sad, no… he sounded in despair. He was crying too, MC could hear his sniffles through the crackling reception of his radio. He was broken; How did MC allow someone so hopeful to turn empty?
“M-Mallory?”
“For my birthday-“ A loud yet muffled crash sounded, cutting him off, and Mall broke into a coughing fit. Something must have collapsed.
“No, no ,no, don't you dare give up on me. I’lll come back for you, Mall. You’re gonna turn 19, you hear!?”
“I want-” A cough, “I want you all to be happy some day.”
“We’ll be happy- ,” She insisted,”You’re gonna be happy too, you fucker, okay? We’re gonna get out of this hell hole and live till we all get old and grey-“
“-That’s my birthday wish.” He breathed out with a breathy laugh, was he smiling?
“No, Mall-“
“Be happy for me, Leo. That’s all I want.”
His radio crackled again.
…
They didn’t hear a crash.
But from the screams of Leona and even the gruff sobs the other two men tried to hide, MC could tell the building collapsed. Leona was in hysterics, screaming and yelling as she punched into the other mans back, trashing her legs.
He couldn’t do anything.
Leona couldn’t stop crying.
They couldn’t save him.
MC couldn’t protect them.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Seven was kind enough not to mention MC’s episode for the next few days, but she knew he was worried. She would catch him staring when they both knew he was supposed to be working, quickly averting his gaze when she looked over her book to check on him. He tried to initiate conversation whenever the room got to quiet, or when MC looked as if she were thinking to hard about something.
Saeran even stuck by her side when Seven kicked her out of the room on rare occasions (“The Defender of Justice can not be distracted!”), not that he’d speak much, but it was as comforting as Saeran could get. She would catch him reading over her shoulder every now and then, or ask her random question about TV show’s (“How is he also his own mother? That’s physically impossible…”).
She pushed through the days and she made sure to thank the twins when she got the chance to do so. But she tried to avoid hanging around Seven when he was working, in fear she would …. yeah…
But, she knew she couldn’t avoid it forever.
————————
“Please talk to me,” Seven whispered softly, as he and MC lay in bed one night. The two lay curled up in one another, Seven protectively cradling her in his arms as she clung to him with her arms around his waist.
“About what?” She replied an innocent whisper, cocking her head to stare up at the golden eyes that peered down at her intently She gulped, oh..
“You know what i’m talking about”
He brushed her hair back gently, tucking it behind her ear with a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I wont force you,” He continued, his voice soothing to the point that MC was afraid she’d rudely fall asleep then and there. “But…” He sighed, resting his forehead to hers softly. His eyes are closed, she noted.
“Saeyoung?”
“I want to help you.” MC bit her lip, her eyes downcast, “Saeyoun-“
“Please,” he pressed, “You’ve helped me so much, I can’t just let you suffer quietly… Like I did…”
“It’s just mood swings, Saeyoung,” She lied.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” He states bluntly. She forced herself to open her eyes, to see the eyes of her lovers that bored into her. He looked hurt… and yet soft at the same time.
“I haven’t been avoiding you-“
“You have, i’ve been watching. You’ve hung around Saeran more than you have me lately,”
“That’s not true!”
“You’ve had more than five conversations with him and it hasn’t even been a week, MC. That’s a record, right there.”
She huffed stubbornly, but she didn’t leave Seven’s embrace. She couldn’t tell him, she couldn't burden him with anything else, he’s been through enough already. But she knowns Seven won’t drop the subject; he’ll just bring it up some other time.
Damn, there was a lot of things MC couldn’t do in her life…
“Some other time…” She whispered - a promise.
Seven let it pass, reluctantly, and nodded. He ducked enough to press his lips to her softer ones, something short and sweet. She hadn’t realised he had a hand cupping her cheek until his thumb caressed her cheek softly, and Seven gazed at her with a loving expression. He smiled as their eyes met and MC smiled back, bringing a hand to grip his warmer one that held her.
“I love you, MC.”
“I love you too, Saeyoung.”
—————————
“We’ve talked about this countless times before Saeran,” MC groaned in frustration, shaking her head in her hands.
“It just doesn’t make sense,”
Seven laughed from the opposite side of Saeran, nudging MC’s calf with his foot as he rested his back against the armrest of the couch, phone in hand, and a leg tucked up to give MC room to sit. “It’s a cartoon, Saeran, it doesn’t have to make sense,” He offered. She gave him a thankful glance.
Saeran’s nose scrunched visibly, “That’s a stupid reason,” he muttered. “People’s waist don’t go in that far,”
“Well maybe that’s cause she’s not a human?” MC suggested sarcastically, earning a glare from Saeran. But he had the same soft and golden eyes as Seven - that just made MC smile and Saeran glower more.
“She has three eyes, and all your concerned about is her waist?”
“I’m concerned about a lot more than just her waist,” Saeran snapped, “For example-“
“Oh my god!” MC exclaimed, throwing her hands up as she stood with her hands raised in surrender, “I give up! I refuse to hear another argument about Steven Universe!”
“Babe, noo~” Seven whined dramatically, as he reached to grab her wrist. Unfortunately for him, she was more than just an arms length of reach and by the time he realised this, he was flailing for something to grab. His cheek collided into the floor before the rest of his body slipped off the couch to join. He groaned, rolling off of his arm that was tucked awkwardly under his side, onto his back.
MC noticed Saeran snort softly, a small smile as he stared at his brother. She bit back her own laughter as she leaned closer to offer a hand.
“Ack!” MC squealed as Seven took her offer and yanked her down onto him.
He groaned at the sudden weight, “I should probably stop doing that,” he wheezed.
“Ya think?” She quipped just as his arms snaked around to keep her locked in place, nuzzling into her shoulder with a horribly done purr. She huffed but her smile didn't leave as she allowed Seven to hold her. She rested her head on his chest with closed eyes, just listening to the beat of his heart…
—————————
“Guys, what’s going on?” A new voice inquired over the sounds of gun shots.
“Oh shit, shit, shit, shit,” Leona chanted, breathlessly.
“Guys?” MC echoed their new recruit.
A grunt sent through the com, worrying MC. “The routes compromised, we need another one,” I gruff voice groaned, more bullets ringing through the headset, louder this time.
“Right, I got you.” MC changed her computer screens. She pulled up camera’s on both screens, scanning till she had her team ((Well, most of)) in view on one, and flicking through different routes and paths on the other one.
“Shit,” She hissed. There were so many people- the brief never said there would be this many! “You guys are gonna have to work quick, and keep your ear’s open. I’m going to direct you myself, but I can’t see every hallway, so bear with me,”
“Got it.”
“Alright.”
“Ready when you are.”
MC exhaled deeply and slowly, calming her nerves. She can’t let the pressure get the best of her, she can’t fail them. Not again.
And then she was concentrating, focusing intently on the each frame of camera feed she got her eyes on, before it flipped to another hallway, another entry, another blocked path. She watched the blips as the ran down a hall, away from the bullets being fired from the other end. “Take a left,” She ordered, “Now.” They turned.
She guided them as they got closer to the roof of the building, where a helicopter would come by and swoop them away just in time. Everything was going smoothly,
‘just a little more’.
And then there was a yell. And a shot.
“What’s happening?!” She barked. Please be nothing, please be nothing, please be-
“G’s hit!” Leo gasped, “Fuck! Not again,”
“I can make it, j-just gotta get up these stairs…” The gritted out insistently, huffing. “You’re leg’s hit, dumbass!”
MC tried to think of a way out. They were stuck on a stairway, and they only had a few more levels to go till they made it to the roof. Going back wasn’t an option- shit.
“Fuck, fuck- Newbie! Help me with G!”
“…Are you serious? We can’t lift him!”
“Did I ask for your damn opinion? No! Fucking help me.”
“He’s too heavy! We won’t make it!”
“
Help
.
Me
. Or I will shot
both
your legs my-fucking-self!” Leo roared. The newbie cursed to themselves, before scurrying over and taking G’s other arm.
“Leo, j-just go without me… y-you know how important this mission is, w-we can-t risk-“
“Shut up! Im not leaving you, and i’m not letting Karma’s wish go down,”
“Le-“
“Why do you boy’s never listen!”
They continued to bicker, but they made it. Thankfully. MC called for the helicopter before they reached the roof, listening to the pilot give the clear once the gunners finished off the guards that were practically littered along the roof and even balconies of the building.
————————
“MC?”
MC blinked and looked up at Seven. They were sitting up now, MC tucked into his lap as he wiped at the tears that streaked her cheeks. Her lip quivered as he watched her, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone, concerned etched clearly into his features.
“He’s gone,” she whispered, leaning into his touch as a fresh, fat tear rolled down and onto his hand. She trembled as she choked out a sob, her hands finding Sevens shirt and balling it into her fists. “They’re all gone.”
Seven frowned, and shared a look with his brother. Who was gone? He? Everyone in the RFA were fine… What had MC so stirred?
“He didn’t get his wish…” She wept and Seven pulled her closer, tucking her head into the crook of his neck as he rubbed her back. Saeran got up and left.
“…Who, baby?”
She didn’t answer, and Seven was afraid he had crossed the line. But what was he supposed to say? Should he have said something else?
“My friends..” She answered after a moment of thought. Her voice was quiet, weak, that Seven almost missed what she said.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered, sympathetically, “I didn’t know something like that was bothering you…”
“It’s fine…”
Seven bit his lip as he frowned. He didn’t like the way she sounded. He moved his hand from her back to pet her hair, his other wrapping around her waist securely.
“I’m here, MC,” he reminded her in a croon, “And I love you. So, please, talk to me if you need too. Don’t go through this alone.”
He felt his shirt tighten around him, as MC gripped more material of his shirt into her fist. She sobbed quietly into his neck, warm tears slipping down his neck messily.
“Thank you…” She whispered.
“Uh,” The two lovers turned at the sound of someone clearing their throat, Saeran fidgeting nervously under their gaze with something in his hand, his eyes downcast and hair drooping a little over his face.
Steam rose from the mug he held carefully in his hands, making Seven and MC both smile - although MC’s was a little weary.
“What’s that?” Seven asked curiously.
“It’s uh..” Saeran’s brows furrowed, as if he was thinking hard on something, “We have no coffee available and…” He coughed to clear his throat again, heat rising to his cheeks slowly, “S-so I made tea… for MC..”
“O-oh.. you didn’t have to, Saeran,” MC insisted weakly. Saeran looked surprised as he turned to face MC, before looking away again. MC panicked, afraid she had made Saeran feel bad, “Thank you!” She blurted out, blushing at her loss of composure, “I, uh, I really appreciate it. So, thank you..Saeran.”
Saeran only nodded and approached to place the tea down on the coffee table beside where Seven and MC were embraced together. He then rushed away, seeming embarrassed, muttering to himself quietly as he retreated to the safety of his room. Seven chuckled as he watched, his arms tightening around MC to pull her closer.
“You wanna hang out with me for a bit?” He offered quietly, “I’ve got a few little things to clear out before dinner.”
MC thought over it, before agreeing with a nod, “I’d like that,” She smiled. She moved to get up, but Seven held her down quickly.
“I nee-“
“Don’t worry,” He whispered, “The Defender of Justice, Seven Zero Seven, has got you!” He proclaimed heroically, making MC laugh.
Least to say, MC wasn’t laughing for long when Seven fell and landed them both onto the ground painfully, after losing his balance in his attempt to lift MC bridal style despite the struggle their position created. They both laughed and groaned in unison.
——————————————
They found themselves curled up with one another again, Saeran hiding in his room and dinner done long ago. Seven spooned MC, arms firm around her waist as he nuzzled and cooed gentle encouragements into her nape, punctuating words and sentences with small kisses inbetween.
“What are you doing, Saeyoung?” She whispered into the quiet room, feeling yet another kiss, this time to her shoulder.
“Loving you,” He replies easily.
“What for?”
“Can’t I just appreciate you without a reason?”
She sighed and turned to face him, forcing him to pull back a little. His arms were around her waist as soon as she was facing him, pulling her close enough to hide herself into his chest.
“I…” She paused, thinking hard on her next words, “I want to… I want to talk.”
“We can talk,” Seven assured, a hand now petting gently at her hair.
“I’ve lost some close friends,” She started wearily, “And.. I really miss them..”
Seven hummed, something soothing that made MC take a deep breath, “Tell me about them.”
MC thought for a moment. She wasn’t sure she was ready to tell him everything. I’ll tell him just enough.
“There was Mallory. He was… the youngest out of all of us..” She sounded unsure - she was sure Seven picked up on it as quickly as she did - but he didn’t mention anything, so she didn’t fuss over it.
“A big age difference or not?”
She looked up at him, looking bewildered by his surprisingly calm attitude. He looked to smile at her, such a small gesture pushing her to willingly continue.
“He wasn’t that much younger,” She whispered finally, breaking eye contact, “But… he was so cheery and happy- he was like a kid, and… it just became a huge joke between us.”
Seven didn’t say anything this time, just hummed in response.
“He used to get into little fights with the others sometimes, too,” At the memory, MC smiled thoughtfully, “They were always petty … he honestly reminds me of Yoosung when you both bicker,”
Seven laughed at that, “Does he remind you of Yoosung?”
MC shrugged a little, “A bit.. yeah.” She fell silent, back into her thoughts.
“Do they look similar?” Seven asked curiously, prompting MC to continue.
“No.. Not really. He had auburn hair and freckled skin. But they act similar….” MC went quiet again, but Seven didn’t urge anything.
“He…”
————————
“MC! I’m so tired~”
“Huh?- Hey! Get off of me!”
MC stared down at the boy that was now sprawled along the sofa, his middle covering MC’s lap as he groaned into the cushions of the sofa. He felt warm, like a blanket despite the efforts of MC’s air-conditoner.
“I had to run laps,” His muffled whine drowned into the sofa, “It was torture!”
MC chuckled, running her hands through his damp hair. “Ugh! You’re sweaty!” She exclaimed, pulling her hand away in disgust, wiping it against the sofa. No wonder he was warm.
He rolled over so that he could see MC better, his back now pressed against MC’s thighs. “Well yeah,” He grinned, “I just came back from training.”
“You could’ve at least showered first!”
“But I wanted to come see you~ Ack!”
MC shoved the younger one off of her lap and onto the floor. Mallory groaned, “I was already aching, why’d you have to make it worse.” He grunted.
“I don’t care, you need a shower.” She huffed as she stood up, stepping over him to walk somewhere else.
“You sound like my mum,” He pointed out with a lazy laugh before something was thrown over his face. A towel.
“I wouldn’t act like your mother if you actually took care of yourself,” She snapped, but there was no bite to it. “Just go have a shower. We’ve probably got some clothes that you left behind.”
Mallory was up on his feet in an instant, grinning from ear to ear has he bound over to MC, tackling her into a hug that sent the both of them onto the floor.
“You’re so caring, MC!”
“And you’re heavy!”
——————————
MC shook her head, snapping herself out of her thoughts. She reached to touch her own cheek.
No tears..
But Seven was still looking at her with the same worried expression he always has ever since her episode before, not saying anything just yet.
“He was much more abrasive and confident then Yoosung.. He was loud and always grinning. But he was also passionate about what he liked and deeply valued those close to him; That’s what reminds me of Yoosung..”
Seven stared and smiled, rubbing her arm softly, “Yeah.. that sounds about right..”
Her smile faltered, but she pressed on. “He was the first to … the first to-” Her voice betrayed her and broke; she felt something heavy in her throat. She couldn’t say it.
“Can I ask what happened?” Seven asked carefully.
MC panicked as she felt her eyes sting, the weight in her throat swelling and she suddenly felt breathless, her mouth dry and chest aching. Seven noticed this quickly, and squeezed her arm to get her attention.
“It’s okay if you can’t, I won’t push you,” He reassured softly, “I’m so, so happy you talked to me, you did so well.”
“I-“ She squeaked out pathetically, her voice giving out.
He hushed her, pulling her closer, “Don’t push yourself, baby. We’ll take it easy and slow, i’ll be patient and wait for you.” She nodded as she huddled closer, burying her face into his chest as she sobbed.
“Thank you…”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Not that one.”
“Saeran, c’mon” MC whined impatiently, as she waved the shirt in front of Saeran who continued to frown stubbornly. “Just this one shirt, that’s all I ask.”
“I don’t like it, MC.”
MC huffed as she inspected the shirt. “There’s nothing wrong. It’s black and white and simple, Saeran.”
“I just don’t like it.” He declared sharply, turning away with click of his tongue. MC grumbled, hooking the hanger back in.
“Why does he have to make me take you shopping?” MC sighed frustratedly, as she made her way to another array of clothing. Despite her frustration and annoyance, Saeran shrugged easily at the rhetorical question.
MC looked at what was stacked in their basket and frowned. “You always get the same colours..”
“I like those colours,” Saeran returned simply, turning to face MC as he glanced vaguely at the stack of red and various dark colours layered over one another, “They suit me.”
“I know but you could … at least try some other colours?” Saeran grimaced and looked away again, MC flicking through the various shirts hanging. She plucks out a shirt that’s mostly orange, with some logo in front, and holds it in front of Saeran. “How ‘bout this? It’s like red right?”
“It’s too bright.”
MC groaned and placed the shirt back. “You’re so emo today, Saeran.” She teased.
Saeran doesn't say anything and trudges off to another rack of clothes, eyeing the various jackets that were hanging on display.
MC continued to file through shirt upon shirts, letting Saeran go venture by himself. She knew he willingly wouldn’t stray from sight, so she didn’t worry much about him as she searched.
The store was calm, a few people walking past her as they talked about their days, children chasing after each other with tagged toys as their mothers conversed elsewhere. A couple walks by, an arm slung around a waist as they chatted enthusiastically about something MC couldn't quite catch. She spots the section where books awaited on shelfs as she watched the couple, and smiled. Dragging the basket along with her, she headed towards Saeran.
“Hey, you wanna get a book?”
Saeran looked at her and raised his brows curiously, “Why?”
“Why not?” MC shrugged, “You can pick something different.”
“I don’t want to..”
“Oh c’mon,” She groaned, grabbing Saeran’s wrist lightly and hauled him along with her as she walked towards the bookshelves, “I wanna grab you a book. Maybe we can grab a book about baking!”
Saeran sighed but allowed himself to get dragged regardless.
“Okay!” MC exclaimed, quite loudly, and Saeran’s shoulders slouched in embarrassment as a few shoppers walked by and stared curiously.
“How ‘bout this?”
Saeran turned to check the cookbook that MC held close to his face. He scowled at the word ‘Beginners’ and shook his head. “No thanks.”
“Why not? These things look pretty nice,” MC assured as she opened the book to flick through a few pages, “Look! It’s even got some sweet things in here too, Saeran!”
Saeran groaned, but he didn’t seem to disagree any further. MC gleamed happily as she took that as a ‘yes’ and dropped into the basket with the rest of the clothes. Saeran noticed and blushed, looking away embarrassedly.
“Alright, that’s one cookbook done. Let’s try and find a- OOF!” In the motion of spinning around, MC ended up spinning herself into another person. She stumbled back and thankfully Saeran awkwardly caught her before she had the chance to crash into the floor.
“I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t of … been… spinning….around…” MC’s sentence droned off slowly as she slowly began piecing together the strangers appearance together; Short black hair shaved at the side, various piercings, thin eyebrows with piercing blue-grey eyes that stared bewildered at MC.
MC stared at the other woman, lost in thought.
“I…” She whispered weakly but her throat suddenly felt dry and she couldn’t find the words she was meaning to say, taking a small step back to gain space but ultimately pressing closer to Saeran.
“MC?” Saeran’s voice snapped MC out of her daze, whipping around to look at the younger twin. He blinked and took a step back, her frightened stare shocking Saeran.
MC could feel it, the cold memories creeping up along her legs, desperately grasping there way up. She felt the chill run through her and her body froze. But Saeran looked concerned, his golden orbs breaking MC out of her shock.
“We need to leave,” She whispered hurriedly, gripping Saeran’s hand tightly. She turned away quickly and hurried out of the aisle of books, with Saeran trying his hardest to keep up and not trip.
“But, MC, the clothes-“
“It’s not safe here, Saeran!” She cut Saeran off abruptly, nervous and scared. Her hand quivered in Saeran’s, but she managed to tighten her grip regardless. Saeran gulped, not pressing any further.
They departed the store quickly, various workers watching the two with matching looks of confusion that the rest of the public displayed, watching as MC continued to pull Saeran behind her through the shopping centre. The exited through glass doors into the car park, spotting Seven’s sports car they had borrowed easily amongst all other cars. It stuck out like a sore thumb.
Saeran only began to truly worry about MC when she had started the car and began to pull out of the parking spot without even checking if Saeran had his belt on. Which he didn’t.
He yanked the belt around him quickly and clipped it in, digging through his pockets in search of phone. MC payed no attention, only concentrating strongly on the road before them, her knuckles turning white around the steering wheel.
“Saeran! How is my sweet, lil’ twin brother do-“ Saeyoung’s voice chimed cheerily through the receiver, only to be cut off by Saeran’s nervous and hushed voice.
“Saeyoung, somethings wrong.”
“Huh? Is something not in your size again? Saeran, you kn-“
“No. It’s MC. Something happened. I don’t know.”
“MC? What happened? Are you two safe?”
“I don’t know. She looks really scared… We’re driving back home.”
“Are you two
safe
?”
“I don’t know, Saeyoung!” Saeran whispered harshly, his own panic catching up with him. He looked over at MC briefly, hunched over and worriedly chewing at her lip. “She said we weren’t safe, Saeyoung. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t-“
I don’t want to get taken, He thought suddenly. After all these years had his father finally found him? He finally began to find happiness, and now he could see it disappearing right before his eyes, disappearing as it got swallowed into blackness.
I knew it, he thought, I will never find true happiness.
“Dammit” Saeyoung hissed, something moving and muffling through Saeran’s receiver, before his brothers voice came through again. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep an eye on you two, okay? Make sure you two get home safe. I’m going to-“
“Don’t leave!” Saeran cried, the phone now shaking in his hands as he clutched it close to his ear, panic thrumming along with his beating heart. There was a small pause.
“I will never leave you, Saeran,” Seven assure in a hushed tone, “But I need you to keep an eye on MC, and make sure she drives safely.”
“But I c-“
“Yes you can, Saeran. Everything is going to be alright. I’m watching over you two okay? I’ll keep you safe.”
“Saeyoung-“
“I won’t lose you again- Dammit, I’m not going to lose you two. I promise you, i’ll make sure you two are safe. You’re safe Saeran.”
Saeran took a shaky breath, and nodded despite the fact that Seven probably couldn’t even see it. “Just stay on the phone … please.”
“Of course”
The two didn’t say much after that. Saeran forced himself to watch over MC for the remainder of the trip, taking mental notes of every little twitch and quiver he took notice of. He could hear Saeyoung muttering over the line, nothing that he payed attention to, but the noise kept him planted to reality.
They arrived quicker than Saeran had expected, and the garage opened without the need for any key. Must be Saeyoung, He thought to himself.
Mc drove the car in smoothly, managing to park it neatly before shutting the vehicle off. She opened the door and rushed out of it, Saeran only just noticing the seatbelt that went unworn. He unbuckled himself and opened the door to follow behind MC, the door making a beep behind him and efficiently scaring him. At least she remembered to lock it…
They found Saeyoung pacing and mumbling once entering the house, looking up to them as he walked over quickly. “What happened?”
MC shook her head and shoved past, shucking off her handbag and dropping it once she fished out her phone. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Seven pressed, staying by Saeran’s side as he watched MC walk away. He grabbed for Saeran’s hand, (Again, with the hand holding…) and followed behind his girlfriend.
“I need your computer.”
“Wait, what for?” Saeran to notice of how Saeyoung quickened his pace. “Babe, what happened?”
“I just need your computer, Saeyoung,” She gritted, opening the door to Seven’s ‘office’. She scurried over to the elaborate computer and took a seat.
Saeyoung was confused, taking his place beside her. She made no move yet, but her furrowed brow showed that she was thinking hard on something.
“You have a laptop, MC, if you need to fi-“
“Saeyoung.”
Saeyoung looked down at MC, her sudden serious cutting him off in an instant. She stared back up at him, worry wearing her eyes and her lower lip red from her nervous chewing. He tried to read her, tried to find what was wrong. But all he could find was hurt and fear, sending a pang to his heart.
“Do you love me?” She asked softly.
“What?” Seven thought she was joking, but she looked dead serious. “Of course I do!”
And then she smiled, sadly, but a smile. “Thank you…”
“What’s happening? MC, talk to me.” He beg.
She shook her head. “Just let me do this.”
“Do what-“
No one spoke, but Saeyoung cut himself off from what he was about to say. Within an instant, MC was logged into Saeyoung’s computer.
And that wasn’t what confused him. She already knew his login. After the countless pleas to use his computer to play some LOLOL with Yoosung - claiming the game ran better on his computer - he had gotten sick of constantly having to log her in and gave her the password instead.
It was the various windows she opened and the way she typed, her fingers moving fluidly across keys quickly and with precision.
Camera feeds were pulled up and dragged to the top left corner of the screen, giving Seven a clear view. He recognised Saeran and MC standing in one of the camera’s, an unknown person standing before them. MC paused various camera’s with the same person in view, so Saeyoung easily assumed this person was the threat.
She then began scanning the person’s face and their features, something that Seven didn’t entirely understand yet, but MC did.
Wait. WHAT?
“Wait, you can hack?!” Saeyoung exclaimed, everything suddenly clicking together in his head as he realised what exactly he was watching MC do.
She didn’t reply, to invested in her current search to properly hold a conversation with Saeyoung, only sighing heavily.
“What the- MC, why didn’t you tell me this?”
“….”
“MC!”
“I’m busy!” She yelled back, the clacking of keys ceasing. She glared at Seven who returned it back easily.
“Why did you not tell me?”
“It’s not exactly an easy topic to explain when your boyfriend is an expert hacker,” She muttered grumpily, turning her attention back to the screen.
Seven gripped the back of the chair and spun her back around, switching from his right arm to his left to hold the back of the chair. His forearm stayed just beside MC’s face, blocking her ability to swivel back around.
“Why didn’t you tell me, MC.”
“Because it’s not who I am anymore.”
“Then how did I not find this? Why did this not appear in any searches I did on you?”
“Saeyoung, I’m busy.”
“With what!?” He shouted, frustrated and angry, “What is so important that you have to do- this!”
“That’s none of your business-“
“Of course it is! I’m you’re boyfriend, who just found out that you can actually hack, MC, something that I specialise in, this is very much my business!”
“Saeyoung, leave me alone.” She snarled, looking away from his glare stubbornly.
“I will not- Dammit, MC, look at me!”
She refused, scowling.
“MC!”
With an heavy sigh, she returned her gaze to Saeyoung’s. His gaze softened, sighing softly as he paused. They fell into a short silence.
“I’m not safe,” She whispered, breaking the silence. “Saeyoung, I tried. I thought I could get away from it all, but I was stupid. Fuck-“ Her voice hitched, tears springing from her eyes out of nowhere as they stung. “I should’ve just stayed put, I was greedy I shouldn’t of-“
“Hey,” Saeyoung stopped her, softly, lowering down to his knees and taking hold of her hands trembling in his own. He squeezed them softly as he smiled at her reassuringly. “Calm down, take a deep breath.”
She took a deep breath after a moment of hesitation, shaking, and closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself. But as soon as she did, the memory of the woman’s face washed over her and she forced her eyes to open, gasping for air.
“I have to find her, please, Saeyoung.” She begged weakly, her lip quivering. “We aren’t safe, she’s not safe, Saeyoung.”
“I don’t understand what your talking about, MC,” He interjected almost sheepishly, “Please, just calm down. I’ll help you, I promise, but I need you to calm down so that I can help you.”
“We don’t have time!”
“MC, listen to me.” He said sternly, squeezing her hands again to gain her attention. She sucked in a breath, but didn’t say anything.
He sighed softly, staring at their entwined hands. “I don’t know what’s happening, i’m honestly very lost about everything right now but… I’ll try my best to help you.”
“Saeyo-“
“But I need you to talk to me, so I can help you,” He insisted, cutting her off yet again. “I’m here for you, MC, you don’t need to shoulder this all by yourself.”
MC sobbed softly, tears slipping and splattering against her lap.
Seven pulled away briefly and opened his arm invitingly from where he kneeled. When MC opened her eyes, curious as to why his hands had moved, she felt more tears arise at the offer - ones that she was quick to wipe away. She flung herself at Seven without hesitation, burying into the crook of his neck as his arms encircled her into his warm embrace. He felt her tears dampen the collar of his shirt, ultimately wetting his skin but he didn’t mention it nor did he mind.
He noticed Saeran had taken his leave as MC cried in his arms, rubbing her back gently and shushing her with soft encouragements and loving coo’s.
He had to give himself credit. He almost had a panic attack after his call with Saeran, and yet he pushed through it and kept it together, only to have a higher risk of a heart attack once he learned that his girlfriend could do just what he did.
His precious MC, the woman who stayed by his side through the whole Mint Eye situation and continued to love him despite his earlier rejection.
The one who relates to Yoosung whenever exam and tests come to make him suffer and helps him out with his studying and late night gaming needs.
The one who warmed up to Jaehee despite her first meeting suspicions, fangirling along with the woman when Jaehee couldn’t contain herself about Zen’s upcoming shows.
The one who managed to break past Jumin’s walls and emotionless exterior, and encourages him to show emotions, no matter how small.
The one who continues to support Zen in his career, attempts to coax him away from the cigs and help him find a lady.
The one that helped him find his twin brother, and stayed by his side to help Saeran despite everything she had been through. The same woman who continues to stay by Saeran’s side and help him fit into the RFA better, and doesn’t push him when he’s at his limit.
And the same woman who was now broken in his arms, crying and whimpering as tears soaked into his shirt as the sobbing continued.
They stayed there for a while, Saeyoung whispering softly to MC as she cried, her sobs and whimpers softening over time until she was left a sniffling mess.
They didn’t say much, not as Saeyoung moved MC around so that he could lift her up as he stood. He carried her bridal style to their bedroom, her face still tucked into the crook of his neck and arms over his shoulders.
She stayed quiet as Saeyoung helped her get undressed and into something more comfortable, tugging at her hand as her lead her to the bed. He plucked off his glasses and laid down, pulling MC to lay at his side and tucking her close to his chest, her back pressed close to him as his arms wrapped around her waist securely. He continued his murmurs, soft whispers of ‘I love you’s into her ear as he pulled the covers over their bodies, nestling his nose to her hair.
He continued this until her body stopped shaking, the small rise and fall of her breathing indicating that she had fallen asleep, and yet he continued his whispers.
“I love you, MC.” He whispered softly, kissing her hair.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Saeyoung found the bed empty beside him when he woke up the next morning, his arms uneasily empty and feeling colder despite the blanket covering him. He searched for his glasses on the bedside table as he groggily sat up, kicking the blanket off. He slipped out of the warmth of the bed, rubbing his arms sleepily as he trudged out of the room in search of MC.
He found her sitting at his computer, too engrossed on whatever was on the screen to notice his presence. The chair that rested on one of the walls - a chair usually used by Saeran whenever he came to hang out - was dragged to the side of MC, Saeyoung plopping down into it with a sigh.
“Busy?”
MC paused and glanced over at him, eyes a little puffy as she frowned. “Saeyoung… it’s too early for you to be awake.”
He didn’t even check the time when woke up, he realised. With no phone on hand, he leant over and checked the time on the computer. He took note of the camera feeds pulled up on screen again.
“What are you doing up at 4 in the morning?” He questioned, even though MC was clearly curious about why he was awake.
“I’ve been up since 1,” She corrected simply, turning back to the screen. “Besides, I fell asleep at like … 5 in the afternoon yesterday. Why are you awake at 4 in the morning?”
Seven yawned, leaning into his chair and rubbing his eyes of sleep from under his glasses, “Missed you.”
She snorted a laugh, giving another glance in Seven’s direction. “Sap.”
“I know,” He chuckled, lower and rougher from sleep. He leaned across to kiss her cheek softly.
They fell into silence, only the sound of clicking of keys.
Seven peaked over at MC every now and then, as if he were checking she was real and that yes, this was happening. That she was sitting at his computer and typing out codes and whatnot, not typing into the chat bar of LOLOL at random players in her server. That she was staring intently at the screen, at the camera feeds and not on a difficult Boss that promised some legendary loot.
MC decided to break the silence. “Are you going to keep pretending your calm or what?” She sighed, stopping yet again. She turned to face Saeyoung, who couldn’t quite meet your gaze.
“It’s… a lot to take in.” He admitted truthfully and deflated, shoulders hunching as he combed a hand through his hair. “It’s not exactly everyday you hear that-“
“I know,” MC cut in, frowning as she looked down at her lap, “I was afraid of how you would’ve reacted…”
Seven hummed softly in acknowledgment. “Which is reasonable, I guess.”
“Yeah….”
“Can I..” Seven coughed awkwardly, daring to look over at MC who was now staring at him, looking worried. He gulped and looked back down. “Can I ask how long?”
MC smiled a little and her expression softened, “You make it sound like a typical infidelity scenario.” When Seven could only give a small yet forced smile at her attempt to lightening the mood, she cleared her throat. Now she had made it awkward.
“I started when I was sixteen.. almost seventeen.”
Seven let out a low whistle, “That like.. five years ago..” He whispered, clasping his hands together tightly. “Five years…that’s a long time.”
“It is.” She agreed briskly.
“So..” Seven struggled to find the words. What was he supposed to say? For the first time in years, he was stuck with a situation he didn’t know how to handle. He didn’t know what had lead MC to this point, what had her hacking in the first place, what she was doing before stumbling across the RFA… who that person was in the cameras, even!
“My family struggled a lot, um, growing up- Financially, that is.” MC tried, trying to help out Seven as he searched for words. “I was an only child and I did well academically… long story short, I received this shady email about joining some group when I was around … sixteen? I don’t remember it much, I was planning on just cleaning up my email, really.”
She looked pained from the memories as she paused, taking a deep breath. Saeyoung reached over to squeeze her hand encouragingly.
“I had managed to convince my parents to let me get home schooled … which, is what the Organisation wanted me to see it as, so that’s what I went with. A few weeks later, I was packed and … leaving home.”
There was another pause, and this time MC gripped Saeyoung’s hand tightly, purely for the sake of holding something. He didn’t question it, stayed quiet as he waited for MC patiently.
“I should’ve just stayed home, Saeyoung…” She whispered so softly that Saeyoung had to strain himself to hear her. “We weren’t even that bad with our money, I just… I just wanted my parents to stop struggling.”
Seven didn’t miss the way MC’s breath hitched as she took a shaky breath, her hold squeezing his hands tighter.
“It was simple at first… Just lessons upon lessons, like any other school, you know?” She looked over at Saeyoung, who nodded with an encouraging smile. She smiled nervously back.
“But then I … got moved, once they began to see how well I was progressing. It got real, after that. I met Leona first… um…” She bit down on her lip, Saeyoung only just noticing the slight glaze over her eyes once he looked up.
“MC,” He frowned, reaching across to wipe a tear that had managed to slip, “It’s okay, you don’t have to continue right now, I understand.”
MC shook her head, taking another deep breath. “No, no. I-I… I want to talk to you. I want to get this off my chest.”
Saeyoung nodded, bringing their entwined hands to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss. “Alright, i’m here for you.”
She smiled thankfully, and continued. “She was the first person I had managed to get along with, as well as being positioned elsewhere. I was stuck with all the tech geeks there, she was stuck with all the fitness junkies. She was… the one thing that really kept me sane back then…”
——————
“MC!”
The beckoned one only got a call of her name for warning, before she was tackled from behind and entrapped by limbs.
“Leo!” She exclaimed, clutching her papers for dear life as she stumbled in a clumsy effort to not fall. “You can’t just do that! I could’ve fell!”
“Aww, I’m sorry!” Leo apologised sweetly, “I just love you so much!”
MC grumbled, huffing stubbornly. “That’s a shame.”
Leo laughed and smacked a wet smooch to MC’s cheek. She blushed on instant, red spreading from her cheeks to her ears. “You love me, I know it.” Leo said proudly.
She rolled her eyes. “Just get off me, Leo.”
MC sighed out of relief once she felt the weight shift and move before disappearing. Until that weight decided to bound around her and in front, grinning gleefully as she walked backwards in order to see MC.
“So~ How was ‘class’?”
MC grumbled again. “I hated it… the teacher keeps praising me and it’s gross.”
“Teacher’s pet.” Leona teased, grinning still.
“I don’t even wanna be the teacher’s pet, Leo.” MC scowled, glaring at her friend. “They’re just gonna move me to a higher class anyway, so hopefully my next teacher hates me.”
“Maybe you should move to my class! I’m one of the best, so the teacher probably won’t even notice you.” Leo suggested, MC smiling at her friend confidence. ((Cocky confidence, really))
“You know I would … but they’re pretty intent on keeping me with the techies.”
“Techies sound stupid,” Leo commented, nose scrunching as she registered the name ‘Techies’ over and over in her head.
“Tell me about it,” MC laughed.
Leo smiled, but MC took notice of the nervous twitch at the corner of her lips. As if she knew she was being stared at, Leo looked up at MC and sighed. She stopped walking backwards, and decided to step to MC’s side, hooking her arm around the others arm. “They’re thinking about moving me to the field.”
MC’s eyes widened as she stared down at Leo, who stared at the floor like it was suddenly so interesting. “Are you sure?”
Leo nodded. “Coach pulled me back from class a bit to tell me… said it was to give me time to think on it.”
MC scoffed, shaking her head. “Like they’d actually give you a choice here anyway.”
The arm around her tightened, and she looked at Leo worriedly. “Leo?”
“I don’t wanna go,” came the whispered reply, shaky and weak. “I’ve heard stories about what happened from a few field people I do get to see… they say it’s not like what the classes teach you about.”
“I’m sure they’re just trying to freak you out,” MC suggested with a smile, ruffling Leo’s hair. “I’m sure everything will be fine, and if not, i’ll be here if you need it.”
“Yeah…” Leo rested her head on MC’s shoulder. Her sudden quietness made MC frown as she rested her head atop Leo’s as they walked.
“You wanna hang out with me for a bit? Maybe watch a movie or something to get your mind off things?”
Leo nodded and smiled. “Yeah… please.”
——————————
MC sighed forlornly at the memory, her lips pursed. “She reminds me a lot about you, to be honest - well, you remind me of her, actually.”
Seven raised a brow, “Oh?”
“She was … very annoying,” MC started, smiling at the childish pout Seven gave her. “Loud, talked a lot, enjoyed mucking about and hardly ever serious about things…”
“That sounds more like Luciel.” Seven corrected with a chuckle.
MC’s shoulders slouched sheepishly, “I guess… Maybe that’s why I didn’t fall for your happy-go-lucky facade, huh?”
“I’m a great actor, thank you vey much.” Seven huffed, pulling his hands away to childishly cross his arms across his chest. MC rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the child that is her boyfriend.
“She was my closest friend,” She continued, “Most people that also got dragged into the organisation were broken and emo, or angry and sensitive. She was the only happy one, and it was nice. It was refreshing, to have that kind of vibe in a place as horrible as …wherever it was.”
MC’s brow furrowed, where was that place anyway? Was it still around even?
“I want to know more about you’re side of things,” Seven spoke up, a hand resting on MC’s knee snapping her out of thought (She needed to stop doing that). When she didn’t reply, Saeyoung worried he had overstepped. “Only if that would be okay with you, of course…”
MC blinked, trying to focus as she looked at Seven. She then nodded, registering his question. “Oh right! Um, yeah. I was…I was apart of their technology defence thingy. After moving to higher ‘classes’, I was set on infiltrating security systems and what not.”
“Wait,” Seven cut her off, confused, “You were infiltrating? What for?”
“I didn’t actually know it was infiltrating at the time,” MC admitted with an uneasy shrug. “I only figured it out when I got better at it and overheard some of the counsellors. By that time, I was moved to a higher position, and was placed in charge of the organisation’s security system”
“And you were sixteen doing this?” Seven questioned in disbelief.
“Seventeen,” MC rectified, “It took me almost 7 months to get to that point.”
“What the- Why didn’t you leave? Surely you would’ve figured it out in seven months that that place wasn’t safe MC, why did you stay?”
“Wait, woah. Why do you sound angry about that?” MC looked puzzled, Seven only looking mildly annoyed. “You know how things are when it comes to people like that, Saeyoung…”
“You-! If that ‘organisation’ as you call it, only took seven months to boost you up to something that’s important, than that goes to prove your own intelligence. You could’ve figured a way out!”
“And do what, huh?” MC snapped, “Go back to my family with nothing to give and say ‘Oh yeah, sorry about that. Turns out home schooling just wasn’t for me, guess you’ll just have to deal with another mouth to feed!’? Abandon Leo, who had been nothing but a blessing to me while I was there in that hell hole? Put me and my family at further risk just because I was stupid enough to go along with a really shady looking email?!”
She was yelling now, glaring and seething as she looked at Seven. “I know what I did was stupid. I know I shouldn’t of had listened to that stupid email, but dammit, I don’t need to hear from you that me staying was stupid. I know it was, okay?! And it took me three fucking years to get out of there!”
Seven went to say something, only for his mouth to snap shut quickly. MC hardly ever swore, but now she was angry AND swearing, which only made it even more rare. “MC…”
“NO! Dammit, Saeyoung, if I had known going it was going to be horrible I wouldn’t of touched the damn email in the first place.” MC exhaled heavily, gritting her teeth as her hands balled up into fists on her lap. Her shoulders dropped as her gaze turned to her lap, heavy pants shaking her chest. She closed her eyes.
“I lost so much because of them. I lost Mallory… G… Sebastian……Leona. I lost my normal life, the comfortable and normal life that I could just share with my family and few friends I had at school. I didn’t get to spend my year being sixteen like I should of, drinking and curing hangovers until I was 18 and graduated. I never went to college, never got to take a normal job like most 19 and 20 year olds do. I became paranoid once I finally did escape, but instead of feeling free, I only felt more trapped.”
Tears dripped onto her hands, splattering and wetting her skin. She didn’t make an effort to wipe them away, letting them freely fall. Seven stayed still in his seat, afraid to make a move. “I was so scared they’d find me again, and I would have to go back. For a few years of my life I was careful and hardly did anything: I barely left my house, and I kept check of anything that would get my location out. I relied on selling information to get money, but even that made me anxious.”
“Then why’d you join the RFA?” Seven suddenly interjected. He bit his lip, looking apologetic for his abruptness, but continued on when MC didn’t seem to protest. “If you were so afraid of being found out, why did you trust an invitation from a stranger?”
MC only managed a small shrug. She didn’t exactly have an answer for that. The room went quiet as Saeyoung waited and MC thought.
“I guess… I was hoping that another dumb decision wouldn’t lead to something bad before… that maybe chance would balance itself out and i’d get something good out of it.” She sounded unsure, as if she was more trying to explain her reasoning to herself than she was to Saeyoung. “It was just a YOLO kinda thing, y’know? I had screwed over my life major time already, I made myself believe it couldn’t of had gotten any worse.”
She smiled thoughtfully, looking up at Saeyoung with glossy eyes, “I guess it was a good idea for me to listen to the ‘stranger’ huh?”
Saeyoung smiled back lopsidedly, “I guess so.”
Then the room went quiet again. Saeyoung fiddled awkwardly with his fingers, eyes flicking from his lap, to the computer screen, to MC and then the walls of the room. MC calmed herself and her tears as she stared at her lap, hands flexing nervously.
Saeyoung cleared his throat. “Um, so … is this person-“ He pointed a finger at one of the feeds, ”-from the organisation?”
MC looked up to the screen, her hands freezing as she swallowed hard. She stared at her hands that flexed into a fist and scowled. “That is… Leona.”
“…”
“…”
“…I’m sorry, what?”
MC sunk into the seat a little, shoulder hunched. “Leona…”
“But I..You said she was dead, MC. How can that be her?” Saeyoung pressed, staring at the screen intensely. Was this the Leona MC was talking about? It couldn’t be, even if he didn’t know what she looked like, it couldn't be-
“I never said she was dead,” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with another sigh. “She was the only one of my friends who made it out alive.”
Seven blinked, baffled beyond reason. “Wait, but I thought-“
“She isn’t dead, Saeyoung!” MC barked, nails digging into the palm of her hand as her fist clenched.
“I’m … sorry, I didn’t mean to push or anything. I was just confused and-“
“It’s fine…” MC cut him off and looked over at Saeyoung, quickly turning to the floor when he turned to meet her gaze. “I haven’t explained it all that well…”
“That’s okay,” Saeyoung assured softly, “I know I’ve said this a lot, but you can trust that I won’t push you into anything that makes you uncomfortable.” His hand rested on her lap, her own hand covering it causing them both to smile.
MC nodded as she forced herself to look up at Saeyoung, “It’s okay. You deserve to know, anyway. Besides… it would be nice to share this after so long…”
—————————
As soon as MC opened the door (admittedly after a few awkward minutes of standing outside because
oh god, what was she supposed to say?!
) she sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the room; It was simple, practically an apartment, and surprisingly clean. A young looking boy came bounding over to her as soon as he caught sight of her, blonde fluffy hair and clad in tight jeans and a sweater. He stuck out a hand as soon as he stood before MC, and only then did she notice a glinting silver ring on his bottom lip that matched the various silver rings and studs on his ears.
“You must be the new recruit! I’m Mallory! It’s nice to finally meet you!”
Shocked and unsure, MC offered a shy smile and quickly shook his hand. Talk about awkward…
He laughed at her reaction and MC would've most likely dashed back out the of the door from sheer embarrassment if it weren’t for his laugh, loud and gleeful, warming up MC just enough for her to give a more genuine looking smile. “MC..I never thought i’d meet someone as exuberant as Leo.”
Mallory looked at her as if she had grown another head. “Exube-what?” He shook his head in confusion, as if it would make the words process better, “Is that even a word?!” MC laughed at that.
And then jumped when another laugh joined her, lower and from behind her. She whipped around quickly to find who.
A young man who was most definitely taller than Mallory, with an oversized jumper hanging onto his shoulders pathetically and reaching down to his knees where jeans continued. In contrast to Mallory, he had black hair that was tied up, hair sticking out from what MC assumed to be a used-to-be undercut.
“Sebastian,” He had answered without even being asked, smirking lopsidedly as he dug his hands into the pocket of his jumper. “Mallory isn’t the brightest of them all as you can see.”
“Oi, you!” Mallory cried, stomping over to Sebastian angrily with fists at his sides. “Why do you always have to be such .. -an ass!”
Sebastian pouted mockingly, a finger pressed to his bottom lip to accentuate his pout more. “Aww, boo hoo. Did I hurt your feewings?”He cooed childishly, his pout breaking into a smirk, looking down at the smaller one challengingly. Mallory growled back, stepping closer into Sebastian’s space and scrunching the collar of Sebastian’s jumper into his fist, yanking the other down until there faces were hardly an inch apart. MC stood awkwardly to the side, just staring.
She turned to where there was a couch when she heard a heavy sigh, taking notice of the other person in the room. Despite the fact that he was sitting down, he looked bigger than the other two boys, bulkier (not excessively) and most likely taller. His hair was longer than Sebastian’s, tied up with stubble to match. Unlike the other two boys, he wore camp-patterned sweatpants and a jacket over a tank top. ‘I guess this guy and Leo have similar fashion sense…’
The man looked up and met MC’s stare, smiling a warm smile that contradicted his appearance. “I’m Gillian, but they normally just call me G.. or Gill.”
“Or the BFG.” Mallory piped up. MC turned her attention to the blonde, who seemed as chirpy as he was when he introduced himself as if the little squabble earlier never happened. Sebastian was still smiling, plopping himself down beside G, openly snuggling up to the other man. Mallory seemed to have noticed MC staring, as he made a small noise, nudging her side for her attention. “Him and G are dating too, so hopefully you’re okay with that.”
MC gawked at Mallory, shaking her head with her hands up in surrender. “That’s perfectly fine! I don’t mind.”
Sebastian clicked his tongue irritatedly and MC turned to him with a worried expression. She didn’t want their first impression of her to be a bad one…
“Why do you always tell people me and Gill are dating?” He grumbled. Oh, so it wasn’t her. That’s good… He rested his head on the bigger mans shoulder, arms hooking around Gill’s right arm from his spot beside him. “You’re with us too, you dork.”
Mallory blushed quickly, red spreading from his cheeks to the top of his ears so quick, MC wished she hadn’t of blinked. “People won’t believe me if I told them that… Besides, you and G look like a couple anyway.”
“Yeah, well, your also apart of this relationship too, stupid.” Sebastian chided with a glare, “So stop saying it’s just me and Gill, and add yourself into it too.”
“Leona is part of this too.” Gill added in, prodding Seb in the waist, who yelped and slapped away the hand.
Mallory mumbled an apology, trudging over to his boyfriends when Sebastian beckoned him over with a wave. An opening door followed by a shrill squeal saved MC from standing awkwardly before the trio, but what she knew followed the squeal made her sigh.
“MC! You’re here!” MC was only given a fraction of a second to brace herself just enough to catch the woman that flung herself towards her, leaping onto her back and wrapping her limbs around her.
MC sighed again, “You should really stop doing this, Leo. You’re gonna give me a bad back.”
Leo giggled, kissing her cheek quickly before jumping back down. “Well, just waving at you and saying hello is boring.” Sebastian made a dramatic gasp at the sight of this small peck, but Leo just rolled her eyes, efficiently shushing him with a finger to her lips.
“I’d much rather boring than a broken back,” MC chuckled. She ruffled her friends hair once she had stepped to her side. “Where were you anyway?”
“I had to talk with some of the councillors about your validation, ’s all. Why? Did these three give you a hard time?” She gave a glare to the guilty three that now sat huddled together, Mallory taking up the space of Gill’s lap, cuddled between the arms of the other two as he smiled sheepishly.
MC chuckled and shook her head, “Nah, they’re good. I’m surprised you four make up one of the strongest team’s here.” She teased, grinning as the boys made groans and complaints at her jest. Leo laughed, throwing aside a folder of papers onto the coffee table (which is hilariously a cardboard box with the words ‘Coffee tabel’ painted incorrectly onto it).
“They’re good at what they do. Mallory’s our agility, Sebastian’s our tactician and Gillian is our all-rounder. You-“ Leo patted MC’s shoulder, grinning at her. “You’ll be our guide”
“And you are?”
“The leader of course!” Leo exclaimed proudly, pressing a thumb to her chest with a wide grin, “I’m the one that keeps this team together, and the connection between our team and the council!”
MC huffed a laugh, crossing her arms as she stared at her friend with an amused look. “Are you quoting something from a show or something? That sounds cartoon-worthy.”
Leo preened, taking what MC said a compliment and beamed, “Thank you!”
MC shook her head and smiled, gaze falling to the folder that Leo had discarded earlier. She slowly crouched down, sitting down beside the ‘Coffee table’ as she picked up the folder. “What’s this?” She asked, waving it in front of Leo. The three boys made various noises of curiosity, all perking up to check out what’s happening. The other woman sighed tiredly and slugged her way to the couch, forcing herself a seat on the couch as the three scooted over as best they could to accomodate her, Sebastian snaking an arm around her waist to pull her closer as he was the only one close enough to do so. “Don’t worry about it, it’s just a brief of a mission we’re scheduled for in a month or two.”
MC raised a brow, “A month or so? Why the wait?”
Sebastian sat up a little straighter to see MC better, cocking his head to the side. “Have you not been on a mission before?”
MC smiled shyly, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. “Um, no? I moved down from the Technology sector, ‘A’ Class and into Field. This is my first team…”
“So you guys never got missions?” Mallory inquired, twisting in Gillian’s embrace to face MC.
MC pondered over the question a little. “Well…We weren’t really set missions, more like goals. I just had to ensure no one got into our systems, but after creating the security system, I didn’t reall-“
“Wait!” MC stopped abruptly, Gill’s sudden shout cutting her off quickly. He looked apologetic, but also serious… which honestly made him look a bit meaner than what he already looked like. “You’re the one who created the security system? The one that everyone started talking about?”
MC blushed embarrassedly, shrugging a little. “That’s me..”
Sebastian gave a low whistle, seeming impressed as he nodded in acknowledgment. “Heard that it’s pretty intense. Apparently, we’ve had no one infiltrate us ever since you established it.”
“I wasn’t aware people talked about it…” She said earnestly, blushing under their gazes. “I hardly left the sector though, so i’m not surprised the news never reached me any way.”
Mallory made a squeal as an idea suddenly struck him, surprising everyone in the process. “If this is your first team, should’t we like, celebrate or something?”
MC opened her mouth to say something, only for Sebastian to gasp in excitement and cut her off. “Oh yeah! We could go out to the city, maybe light up some fireworks on the roofs like we did last year!”
“Mall almost caught fire last time, Seb…”
“That’s cause he didn’t listen when I told him to step back!”
“Yes I did! You just didn’t light it right!”
“You would’ve caught fire even if I
did
light it right! G listened, and he didn’t get lit up!”
“Please don’t bring me into this, guys…”
“He was on the other building! How would you now if he listened or not?!”
“Well, he didn’t get burnt did he?!”
“EVERYONE STOP SHOUTING!”
The boys zipped their lips quickly, whispering soft ‘Sorry’s to Leo who only grumbled, burying her face into the arm of Sebastian’s jumper. MC laughed softly, placing the folder back down. Deciding to take her leave, she stood up and brushed herself down. Leo must have noticed this as she twisted her head to find MC. “Are you leaving?”
MC nodded, pushing her hands into her pockets. “Yeah, you look tired and I gotta finish a few things back at my office before I move. I’m also pretty sure the council might want talk to me…”
Leo seemed to understand and snorted a laugh. “Oh right… You snuck in to the Field, didn’t you?”
Sebastian and Mallory gawked, eyes wide and jaws dropped. “You snuck you’re way into the system?!” They cried, stuck between being impressed and mortified. Gillian seemed intrigued, but not as enthusiastically as the other two.
MC shrugged. “I mean, I created the security system. Changing my sector and where i’m assigned is practically child’s play.”
“Won’t you get in trouble?” Gill asked this time, the two other boys staring at each other in the same state of shock, as if they were mirroring each other.
“I might? I’m a vital part to their system, though, so I doubt it’ll be bad.” She shrugged again, taking a few steps back. “As much as I would love to stay, I really need to head off now.”
“But we have so many questions!” Seb whined. Leo shushed him, muttering something about being tired and a headache. MC smiled apologetically as she headed to the door backwards. “Well i’m apart of the team, so you can question me later. I really need to go now.”
Sebastian sighed defeatedly, but waved her goodbye nonetheless. “Fine, you owe me answers next time we meet.”
“I don’t remember owing you anything, but alright then.” MC laughed. She waved goodbye to the other three, earning a cheery “Cya, MC!”, a wave and smile, and a poor attempt at a wave that was just a tired raise of a hand. She smiled fondly at the four, opening the door. With another pause, another moment just appreciating the four that she will soon be working with, she eventually forced herself to say another fare well before stepping out of the room.
MC didn’t worry over the meeting she was called to when a councillor tracked her down as she was packing some of her things up from her office. She couldn’t care less when the councillors berated her for her undignified rebellion against their directions. She just let the words go through one ear and out the other until they eventually ran out of words to say and she was excused with a warning.
Because now she was out. She was free from her stupid little room, and her stupidly short desk that made her legs cramp underneath it, and her seat that seemed to drop randomly if so much as a breeze touched the lever. She was out and with people, people she could rely on and hopefully people who could rely on her. She wasn’t alone anymore.
She smiled at that.
Now, she wasn’t alone.
|
10036436
|
Burned
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Bray Wyatt, Luke Harper | Brodie Lee, Sister Abigail",
"Fandom": "World Wrestling Entertainment",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by InkyNix",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "1,216",
"Additional Tags": "Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Randy Orton",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
It was gone. It was really all gone. Bray dropped to his knees in the ashy patch that used to be his home. The home his sister gave him, built for him from scratch, just so he would have one place where he could be safe. The very house in which she was buried, because that’s what she wanted. So she could keep protecting the house even after she was gone. He burned it. He burned the hard work of a little girl trying to keep her little brother safe and sheltered. He burned memories of her, sitting in her rocking chair teaching Bray how to weave, dancing around the kitchen when the days got too cold to smile. He burned her. A choked sob left Bray’s throat. How could he have been so stupid? It wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before, people lying and deceiving him before kicking him to the curb. He didn’t know why he thought this would be different. He cared too much, he put his soul into people who might become brothers to him, who needed help and a family, and they ripped his soul out and tore it to shreds. He trusted too much, and they spat on that trust and burned it, just like Randy did to his home. Why did he keep doing this? Bray felt hot tears fall down his face. It almost surprised him, he didn’t think he had any more tears to cry. Her chair, her house, her resting place, all crumbled into a pile of gray dust in the middle of the forest. And he’d been all the way in Minnesota, worrying over which man he was going to fight come April, and he couldn’t do anything about it. How was that repaying her kindness? How was that keeping her legacy alive? He heard a branch snap behind him and his head snapped around. Luke was standing there. Harper had actually come back, his usual tank-top swapped out for a black one, as if he was in mourning. He probably was. He was her friend when she was still alive. He’d helped build the house. They stared at each other for a moment, not sure what to think, what to say. Bray abandoned him, and had his life crumble around him as punishment. He didn’t deserve him, and he knew he didn’t. Still, Luke walked over, stepping into the ashy gray square. Bray watched him for a long moment, his eyes still wet, but guarded. Luke took a breath and said, “I’m sorry.” Bray blinked and opened his mouth to respond before Luke cut him off. “I won’t say ‘I told you so’, but I’m sorry that he went to…these lengths. Never in a million years did I think that Randy would actually…” “I’m sorry…” Bray’s voice was choppy and hoarse, “I should have listened to you. I should have never chosen him over you, I just…” Luke just dropped to his knees and pulled Bray in for a hug. Bray couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving his throat, and the fresh wave of tears that fell from his eyes. “No matter what,” Luke muttered in his ear, “She’s with you. She walks beside you, she cheers you on. She’s safe with your mother, and wherever you go, she goes.” “He burned her…” Bray choked, “He burned her…” “He burned a body.” Luke pulled away to look Bray in the eyes, “He could never burn her.” Bray just broke, collapsing into Luke’s grip and sobbing, mumbling incoherent sentences that Luke could barely place as ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘All my fault’. Luke held him tighter, staring at the spot where they’d buried her and rocking her little brother, just like he had when she died. Luke felt sick. He’d promised her that if anything happened to her, he’d keep Bray safe. He was doing a shitty job at upholding that promise.“I’m sorry.” Luke said back, trying to hush Bray’s crying, “I won’t leave you again. I promise.” Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that. The sun was starting to set, so Luke helped Bray to his feet. The younger man stumbled a bit, but seemed to have regained some of his composure. “We’ll make him pay.” Luke pressed his forehead against Bray’s, “He’ll regret even thinking of doing something like this.” “He’s going to come after my title.” Bray replied, “We’ll get him then. I want his fucking head.” Anger. That was more like the Bray Wyatt Luke knew. Luke couldn’t hold back a little smirk. “You’ll get it, Bray.” He ran his thumb across Bray’s cheek, smearing ash across it and leaving a gray streak, “I promise.” She sat in the creaky rocking chair, humming as she weaved a hat out of straw. Luke couldn’t help but stare at how peaceful she was, like it hadn’t only been a year since she took her baby brother and ran away from their abusive home as their mother was slaughtered, like she wasn’t only thirteen. She smiled and looked up. “It’s rude to stare, Luke.” She giggled, her bright blue eyes twinkling. Luke blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.” He said, “You just look so much like a grown-up.” “I’ve got to be a grown-up.” She said, putting the half-woven hat aside, “He’s counting on me.” Luke turned and looked out the window. Her little brother yelped and cheered happily as he ran after fireflies outside. He managed to catch one, peering through a hole in his clasped hands, grinning widely before opening them and letting the bug go. “He seems happy.” Luke commented, looking back at her. Anyone could tell they were related. They shared the same wavy brown hair, the same bright blue eyes, the same smile. “He’s gotten so much better since we left.” She stood and watched him out the window, “He’s playing again, Luke. He’s being loud and happy, like little kids should. I haven’t seen him play like that since he was two.” They were quiet before she spoke again. “Luke? Promise me that if anything ever happens to me, should I starve or freeze or get sick, that you’ll take care of him.” Luke looked at her with wide eyes. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. You’re the strongest girl I know.” “That’s what I thought about Mama.” She looked at him with a sad smile, “Sometimes your time on earth is shorter than you want it to be, and you have to leave behind the people who still need you. I’m preparing now, so if I have to leave him, I know that there’s still someone who will keep him safe for me.” Luke looked out the window at the little boy again, who had flopped down onto the grass and was staring up at the glowing bugs. “Alright, I promise. But only if you promise me something too, okay?” “What do you want me to promise?” She smiled at him, pushing a curl out of her face. “Promise me that you’ll watch us even when you’re gone.” Luke said, “That no matter what we do or where we go, you’ll help keep us as safe and as happy as we possibly can.” She gave him a warm look. “I promise.”
|
10061642
|
Breaths
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Baze Malbus, Chirrut Îmwe",
"Fandom": "Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by magikfanfic",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00",
"words": "6,828",
"Additional Tags": "Pre-Rogue One, Backstory, Fluff and Angst, mostly angst, gray or demisexual Baze",
"Relationship": "Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Baze is always counting his own breaths in the dark belly of the ship. They are short and rapid and anxious. There is no peace here, which is fine because Baze is convinced that peace has no place for him anymore. Peace disappeared in the moment that he walked out of the door in the middle of the night, leaning into the cold Jedhan wind, escaping from a life that had loved him warmly with two hands and looked into him with blue eyes even if they were blind in the normal sense of the word. He kissed peace goodbye while it slept, the coward’s way, stealing into the night without a backward glance because if he had lingered, if he had hesitated at all, then he would have never have been able to move. No, he would have remained wrapped around Chirrut but slowly disintegrating, slowly turning into nothing more than smoke from the tight clench of anger in his gut, the mounting waves of despair. These are things he did not want to burden Chirrut with so he fled, and now Baze has no idea whether his plan worked at all.How selfish he was to leave a blind man alone in a city razed and occupied just because he did not want his hurt heart to be a burden. But Baze Malbus has never been good at reaching out, at asking for help, at doing anything but shouldering everything anyone will give him. He has never learned to share the weight, to even consider that there might be something too heavy for his shoulders, too large for his hands. He is a mountain of a man, after all, built of muscle and stone, drenched in blood and death now. An angered giant rising from the ground to lay waste to those who dared disturb his rest, destroy his world. It wafts off him, waves of it, the killing, the blood, the despair, and no one dares draw near to him.Even among the mercenaries he is alone, and Baze is fine with this fact. He has been alone before, and he will be alone again. It does not hurt if he doesn’t take the time to think about it. Instead he learns everything he can about the guns stored in the ship until he can break all of them down, clean them, and put them back together again faster than anyone else. While blindfolded. He could thank Chirrut for this trick if he took the time to think about it, but he shoves that away, down, somewhere it will not hurt him as much. Nevertheless it is a trick that his companions like, and they often call out to him to come and show off when they drink late into the night. Sometimes Baze will humor them, when the hissing in his mind is at its worst, but most of the time he remains on his own, quiet, alone. Some of the others think he is mute, and that is another untruth he does not argue. Especially if it encourages them to leave him alone.At night he counts his breaths to keep his mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t go. It doesn’t work, it never does, and yet he does it anyway just in case, one day, it might. They are a loosely connected team of outlaws, stealing, killing, destroying targets. Baze never asks for details other than what he is meant to do because he doesn’t want to know. Knowing has always hurt. The facts make things real, and Baze is floating in a world of unreality as much as he can, lost in a haze of moving from one thing to another, seeing the same people but never learning names, trying to forget eyes and mouths and the way that they laugh. He is a mountain. Mountains don’t care about what lies around them, he tells himself. Mountains have no more thought for a tree or a bird than for anything else. He forgets that the wind and water can wear mountains down, that animals can carry bits of a mountain away, piece by piece over time, until there is nothing left of the mountain at all.And, of course, mountains do not count their breaths in the darkness, willing themselves to forget hands on their face, lips pressed smooth and laughing against their mouth, warmth, and love. Mountains are stone. He will make himself a stone. One day. If not this day, then the next or the one after or the one after. On and on and on. He will persist until he succeeds. In this, as in so many other things, he is failing, but Baze Malbus knows how to fail. He excels in that. “What are you running from? What are you doing here?” one of the other mercenaries asks, a woman with thick hair and a facial marking that runs from her forehead down below her shirt. They are in the middle of a cantina, waiting for the group’s leader to return with the assignments for the next round of missions, and the air is thick of noise but her voice is still more than audible.Baze cannot recall if she has ever heard him speak before so he makes a flurry of hand gestures her way that mean nothing and decides to let her interpret them as she wants. The only response is a sharp laugh that might have been pretty in the past but now just sounds like glass shattering around them, the hum of a blaster charging, and then she returns to her drink. They wait the rest of the time in silence, and the woman does not look at him again. There is nothing personal in his room. Baze has his clothes, his weapons, the bed, but nothing else. The others, he knows, buy things--trinkets, rocks, dolls--to take home to families that are waiting or to lay on graves as tribute to what has been lost. Still more bring things from home to scatter around their quarters, pictures or maybe a scrap of silk, jewelry. These small sentimentalities remind him that these are people who are still clinging to something, and he tries not to notice because he doesn’t want the heaviness of that realization. He does not want to see them soft and smiling, reminiscing about a brother or lover or friend. Those are words he especially cannot stand to hear because they bring the memories crashing like a wave over the stone cold expression of his face, which reminds him that water can etch rivulets in a mountain, divots that trail from the corners of his eyes down his cheek to drip off his chin. Baze is a stone, and he will not cry.Those are the nights when he counts his breaths aloud, his voice echoing around the room until it no longer sounds like him, until it is light and bubbling, laughter at the tips, and then it is someone else’s voice, and he lies awake all night long because dreaming after he has heard that memory voice will only result in more pain. One of their missions involves a stakeout. Baze and another man settle into an abandoned storehouse across the way from another that has been rigged with explosives and wait, watching, so that they can determine when all the targets are inside. They take shifts, though Baze sleeps even worse in company, wakes in fits and starts. The other man, whose name he will never allow himself to remember, also speaks Jedhan, and that is the most painful thing that has happened to him in months. It hurts more than the half dozen injuries he has sustained during that period of time, and he keeps putting his hands over his ears when he tries to sleep in an attempt to block it out because the man likes to ramble to himself quietly, constantly. And who does that remind him of but bright blue eyes and soft warm hands and the press of lips, the smoothness of skin lingering against his in the stillness. The box in his mind is rapidly filling like a bucket catching water. At some point the surface tension will break, and it will overflow. Everything will be drenched.Baze tries not to think about how water can get into mountains, find ways into cracks and crevices in the stone, the way it can pool, forgotten and silent, until the cold comes and it freezes, cracking everything wide open. Yet he also cannot count aloud in the darkness with the murmured Jedhan filling the air. So he just turns onto his back and watches the ceiling, the way that the lights filter in and splash across it, the pictures it draws. The light is blue, and he tries not to make the easy associations that he always makes with blue, but it presses at him, heavy handed, like a staff to the chest, like a staff sweeping him off his feet and onto the ground, like laughter above him, and a hand reaching down to help him up when it is over. Like a kiss.Blue. Blue is his favorite color, and Baze never considered himself the type of man to have a favorite color until he did. When he realized it, it was so obvious that he almost started crying he was laughing so hard. Or maybe it was the other way around. Now he avoids the color as much as possible because of what it means, the memories that it brings swirling to the surface of his mind, his heart. It is a distraction. Baze cannot be distracted here. Especially if he ever means to return.Does he ever mean to return? It is a question that rises up to the forefront of his mind often. It swims across his vision, lazy, when he counts his breaths at night, presses on his chest like a weight. It is something that he does not know how to answer because with every passing day, every lost second, he is sure that Chirrut moves further away from him, and the amount of blood that drenches him grows thicker. One day Baze imagines he will wake up and be unable to move because of the blood encasing his limbs. It will cling, thick, clotted, holding him down, dragging him under. He will take his last breath and breathe in nothing but the metallic tang of blood. His lungs will fill the way his soul has filled, and he will drown there, slowly. And he will have earned every moment of it.Baze scrubs his hands over his face unable to unsee the blue light dancing across the ceiling, unable to drown out the words that crowd the air. When he is weak, he lies to himself and says that all he wanted to do was make things easier for Chirrut, not infect him with his soul sickness, but it is more than that. Baze wanted to run, and he wanted to hurt those who had hurt him, those who took the temple, who took Jedha, who took his faith. He thought this would help. It has not helped. He is not sure what, if anything, will help. Vengeance was on his tongue when he left, it stained his lips, and he was cautious about kissing Chirrut when he slipped away, not wanting to leave the taste in his mouth, corrupt the only true blue thing still on Jedha. Now, as he lies on the ground, he wonders if he managed it. He wonders if what he had meant to be an act of protection was just as much an act of violence as anything that the Empire did to them. These are the questions that he has always had a hard time answering. Once he would have taken them to Chirrut, let Chirrut talk in his floating, teasing, ethereal way as he braided his hair, settled hands on his back to smooth away all the tension. These days the worries are just millstones, hairshirts, penance scarred across his skin from skirmishes that get too close. Once upon a time Baze Malbus was a hand to hand fighter, but he left that in the gutters of Jedha along with his own staff as he walked from the home he shared with the man he loved and to the mercenary ship.Baze Malbus touches no one, and no one touches him. All of the deaths carved into his soul have been accomplished with guns. There is no hand to hand in him anymore. There are no hands fit to touch him save the two he is running from, and he does not deserve them now.On the other side of the room, the pitch of the Jedhan words rises, the other man calls for him to take his shift, and Baze is almost grateful to rise, to gain the silence that comes when the other sleeps. In that this man does not remind him of Chirrut because his love would dream talk constantly. It used to help him get to sleep, the warmth of Chirrut beside him, the bubbling stream of nonsensical words forming a barrier around them. Baze crosses the room, heavy armor on, heavy gun strapped to his back, always at the ready. He takes his place, and the other man nods, once, before he goes to sleep. It only takes a moment for silence to reign.Blue light continues to spill in through the window, falling over the toes of his boots like a hand, like a sign. Baze moves his feet backward until it can no longer illuminate him, what he has become. He is beneath blue these days, would stain it red, some muddy shade of purple, dark like dried blood on flagstones. When they can finally blow the building, he manages a sigh of relief just to escape the flickering fingers of blue light.Sometimes, in the middle of the night when he has managed to slip into a haze, Baze wonders what he looks like in the Force now. Loss and despair and anger can change someone, he knows that because of his learnings, because of the fact that, once, he was a Guardian of the Whills. He left his faith in the dirt, but that doesn’t mean he has forgotten it. It has a taste, and a smell, and a solidity that will never fade from him. It marks his being, his knowledge, as darkly as any tattoo he has ever seen. Maybe his cannot be seen, but it remains. It is not something that Baze can ever wash away, not completely. When he first left, he thought he could feel Chirrut scrabbling at him through the Force, trying to get to him, but Baze cannot be sure whether or not that was just his own mind playing tricks on him or a true thing. He imagines how Chirrut reacted when he awoke to find him gone and none of the ideas are good. None of them do anything but make his stomach twist. He promised love forever and then walked away, leaving Chirrut in a world unknown to them both. That is a heavier weight on his heart than any amount of thick blood, and he does not know if there would be any way to pay penance for it. He still loves Chirrut. He always will. That is one thing that will not change no matter how far he travels, no matter what sights he sees.One of the things that Baze regrets is that Chirrut will never know the places he visits because Chirrut will never leave Jedha. They had the discussion, among many others, before Baze left. He would have taken Chirrut with him. He would have followed Chirrut if he had an idea of something else to do. But Chirrut was adamant in needing to stay in NiJedha, to continue on as its protector, and Baze simply couldn’t manage it another day. When he stands on a new planet, when he takes in a new sight, heavy trees or the first flakes of snow or rivers that dance or even blistering sand, he wants to be able to go back into the ship, pull Chirrut to him and tell him about all the little details. He wants to share, but there is no one to share with. So he holds it inside, puts it in that box, which has not overflowed but has simply gotten larger, bigger, huge enough to swallow everything he shoves into it. Baze wonders if it is a black hole or if it will allow everything he crams it full of to escape again one day, when he is ready for it.For now, though, he just stands on the surface of an ice planet, breathing into the air and watching it escape his mouth in clouds. Everything is cold and bright and blistering. The light off the ice is so intense that they are all wearing goggles so that they do not go blind from the glare. The ice is so thick that it is blue, and this is the first time he has been able to really look at the color without feeling like his insides are cracking open. For a moment, he forgets that he is a blood drenched mountain of a man, an angry, woken giant looking to smash as many other worlds as he can touch. For a moment, he is nothing other than a lover of blue.It is not a moment that fades away slowly and sweetly. No, it is a moment broken by the sharp bark of the mercenary leader as she calls his name, and he turns swiftly on his heel to see what she wants, leaving the blue behind him without even a goodbye. Like before. His feet leave deep prints in the show, pressing too hard against the ground. Baze Malbus has always been an easy man to track, always walking too heavy, leaving not just the tracks of his feet but his burdens in his wake.Baze is the only member of the team who does not take leave. The others come and go. He can almost count on them like a chrono. They return home or take time off on leisure planets, spend a fortnight in a cantina. Because of this he knows all the regulars after a time, though he still tries not to learn faces or names. No, instead he remembers how one shoots a little to the left or how another is proficient with explosives, how one is always wrapped in two jackets or another takes rocks from any planet they land on. These details are almost more harmful than normal ones, but he cannot banish them from his mind altogether, cannot just walk with ghosts.The regulars know better than to ask him questions, especially any that are not related to the mission at hand. When new people join their team, he is quick to leave the room if they become curious with questions or hands. Baze has never understood why people want to touch him, and that has only increased with the passage of time. His hair is long now, dirty and matted, not a home for whatever precious trinkets Chirrut would put there, no longer brushed or pulled back or cared for. Baths are an infrequent luxury that he does not often pay for because there are better uses for those credits, which he funnels back to Jedha in whatever ways he can. Yes, some of them find their way to Chirrut, though he has no way of knowing whether or not the man uses them. He would not be surprised if he simply gave them all away. So he is dirty, and he smells, and his face is covered with a thick beard. He glares, and does not speak and is covered with armor and weapons, both physical and metaphorical. Yet, still, someone will be drawn to him, and he will have to make it obvious with his body language and his eyes that he is not interested.There is only one person that Baze has been interested in, and he is not sure whether or not this makes him less than other people or not. He was raised to be a Guardian, after all. He was raised to give himself to a faith and a temple and a purpose. So it never worried him that he seemed to lack the stirrings of the flesh that the older boys talked about when he was young. He simply wrote it off as his dedication to the faith, that it was the will of the Force. When he felt something twist, sharply, painfully, desperately, in his gut one day for Chirrut, it took him aback. He had known Chirrut forever, why was this happening now? Why hadn’t it ever happened with anyone else? Could it happen with anyone else? Of course once Chirrut had kissed him, once they had wrapped themselves around each other, he no longer cared whether it could happen with anyone else because he was happy with what he had been given. He had thanked the Force for allowing him to have devotion, passion, for two things when he used to think it would only ever be the one, which would have been enough, but he was so glad to have both gifts.Now he has nothing but a habit of counting his breath in the dark to try and fall asleep. It has been years, and it has not gotten any easier. By now Baze has accepted that it is never going to get any easier, but he is a man of routine, always has been, so he continues to count anyway.Some missions are not easy. Baze is in a firefight that has erupted after a heist went wrong when suddenly his face is wet. He is so involved in finishing what he is doing that he takes no real notice of it, barely even acknowledges it until they are done, back in the ship and someone finally looks at him and gasps, gesturing at his face. When he swipes at what he thinks will be mud or water, he pulls back fingers covered in dark red. Baze allows the sterile touch of the medic as he sews the cut up as he has sewn up many other cuts on Baze’s body over the years. Once he has finished, Baze traces his fingers over the stitches and wonders whether Chirrut will recognize him if he returns home.That night he counts the stitches instead of his breaths and manages to slip to sleep much faster than normal, though it is anything but peaceful. Baze dreams. He wanders the empty streets of NiJedha, stands knocked over and empty, houses on fire around him, curtains snapping in the breeze, singed at the edges. There are no bodies on the ground, but there are impressions, the stains of blood left on the paving stones. He recalls running down these streets as a boy, calling out to his friends, calling out to Chirrut, on the rare days when they were released from the temple and allowed to act like children instead of small masters. A bowl of rice has smashed against the ground, the grains spilled everywhere, but when he looks closer they undulate until he moves quickly away. No one lingers, alive or dead. He is the only man in the city, a city that he always knew was large but that never felt like it until this moment, alone.He is wearing his initiate robes, they are beige and cream and tan and rust, colors of the sand, colors of the city. They are light and breezy. It is not a good day, but Baze feels lighter without the weight of the armor, without his repeater cannon on his back, on his arm. For the first time in a long while it feels like he can move again, it feels like he can breathe without worrying about something crushing him. It does not last. Nothing good ever does it seems.There is a footfall along the streets, just past the block where he is, and he moves towards it, wants to catch it, see who it is. He knows who it is. But he needs to confirm that. He needs to see him. No matter how he runs, no matter how he tries, he never catches the other. The footsteps remain out of reach, always circling, always a breath away. After what feels like hours, Baze crashes to his knees, panting, in the sand and the dirt and the detritus of the forgotten, fallen city. That, of course, is when the footsteps find him.The man in front of him is no longer a man. He is kyber, through and through, solid, crystalline and blue. The light glimmers off of him the way that it catches on snowflakes, dazzling and dangerous. Baze puts his hands over his eyes and weeps a torrent of sorrow onto the ground in front of him. Chirrut, all kyber, as strong as anything in the universe now, utterly and completely beyond his reach, just lingers there, sparkling. Eventually Baze cries out all the moisture in his body, turns to stone, turns to dust, blows away.Baze wakes with a start, a truncated cry in the darkness, chest heaving, covered in sweat. For a moment, he has no idea where he is. His face aches, his heart aches, his soul is splintering. Everything is splintering. There is a crack in the mountain, water has gotten in, and it is freezing. He wraps his arm around his body, fingers tight on his upper arms and counts his breaths to slow his heart, calm himself. It takes longer than it should. Baze does not sleep anymore that night. Every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is blue. The leader looks surprised when he speaks as though she, too, has forgotten that he can. Baze does not remember if she is the same one he spoke with when he came on board anymore. Years have passed, and it is possible that this woman has never heard his voice before today. She thanks him for his service, makes sure that his credits are correct, and assists him in finding passage back to Jedha. Baze tells no one he is leaving, and he has nothing to take with him that is not already strapped to his back. One day he is there, and the next he is heading back to the broken place that means more to him than the entire universe put together, wondering what he will find when he gets there, whether everything has broken as much as he fears.It feels like there are shards of kyber in his throat or sand, something making it close up, and his stomach twists in a way that is similar to that first pang of desire he felt for Chirrut. Baze folds and unfolds his hands in his lap and waits. The shuttle is old, and the journey takes longer than it should. Baze realizes that he has gathered all these stories, all these places to tell Chirrut about, but that he doesn’t know the names of any of them. He has been so careful about not learning names, not making ties, that his mind is full of images and noises and impressions but so very little that is concrete.Unlike the mercenary ship, this one will not land on Jedha at night. The captain fears the winds and the darkness and the tiny spaces of the cramped city so Baze spends a night pacing the halls, gazing at his moon out of the window, the closest he has been in years and yet still separated despite all of that. He wonders if Chirrut can sense him now, if the Force has lit him up like a beacon, like a star. But, no, he is dark and tarnished, he is covered in blood and desperation. Surely the Force is dark around him now, a cloud. Surely he is nothing but a blight on an otherwise bright landscape. It is the longest night he has ever known. When he finally disembarks the next morning, he feels even worse. He is exhausted, his eyes burn, the stitches in his face hurt, and he cannot recall when he ate or drank last. The only thing he can think of is blue, of seeing Chirrut, of making sure that Chirrut is okay. And then. Then what?He pauses and falters, has to brace himself against a building because he never got that far, never got to the step beyond checking on Chirrut. He cannot imagine that the other man will welcome him back with open arms. It has been too long, and he left in such a cowardly way. Baze has never been good at thinking on his feet when it comes to his emotions. He is good in a fight, excellent at predicting what people will do, where they will be. When they were Guardians, Chirrut said it was because the Force was strong with them both. Baze just thinks it is luck and skill. When it comes to people, when it comes to himself, Baze is usually oddly adrift, not sure what to do or how to proceed. He loved Chirrut from a distance for four months before the younger initiate found him, backed him up to a wall and kissed him until they were both so out of breath that they saw stars. Chirrut has always been the one to lead in this way, and Baze should have plotted out a plan before coming back to NiJedha. Now that he is part of the crushing crowds again, it is not going to take long for Chirrut to find him. Hiding from Chirrut here, of all places, is a lost cause.In the end, he does not have to go far. Baze barely makes it down two streets before he hears the voice in the air, a voice he would know anywhere, because it is lodged in the metal black hole box, it is caught in the strings of his heart. It is mirth and lightness at the edges, but Baze knows it well enough to hear that this does not go all the way through. There is a hollowness at the center, and he feels even smaller, thinking that he might have contributed to that vastness in some way. Despite this gnawing concern, he follows the voice, which does not recede or vanish. He follows it until it is on the other side of a wall that he cannot bring himself to look around. Instead he just lingers there, repeat blaster on the ground, back against the wall, fingers pressed to the stitches in his cheek, listening to the rise and the fall of his lover’s voice, though his memory plays other words over the standard sermon of the Force that is being doled out to the marketplace.As the day grows short, it begins to get cold, the winds blowing strong and chill off the desert. Baze considers hiding or leaving or just walking out into the desert and sinking into the sand the way that the statues have over the years. That has never been his way either. And now that he is close enough to hear Chirrut, close enough to see him if he could just find the courage to look, he is transfixed, held in place, stuck. Instead he just waits, back pressed to the wall. If Chirrut has not moved from their rooms, then he will pass this way to return to them, and that is what Baze is banking on. Just the chance to see him. Just the chance to see if Chirrut knows he is there.He hears the staff against the stones before he sees him. Baze feels like he can hear everything in the world now, but most of all he can feel the rush of blood through his body, the hurried, hitching beat of his heart, the way the air catches in his throat. Stepping away from the wall, he puts the blaster cannon back on, and waits. By the time he sees the hem of a robe, black with a hint of red, he is sure that eons have passed. When he catches the blue of Chirrut’s eyes, brighter than anything his memory ever managed to give him, he almost sobs, has to stop his mouth with a closed fist.Despite all of this, those sightless eyes train themselves on him, and Chirrut’s mouth is a line, tight, though Baze cannot tell if it is from anger or hurt. Whichever it is he wants to wipe it from his lover’s mouth, but he does not deserve to touch him. Like a mountain, he cannot move. Like a mountain, he is being changed from without, as Chirrut reaches, silent for once, to catch his wrist with his fingers and tug insistently. The grip is stronger than anything he has ever known, and he fears that Chirrut has already turned to kyber in his absence, but he follows anyway, a half step behind, head down not only because of his shame but also because looking up might blind him.The distance to the rooms they used to share, which Chirrut still inhabits, is short, but it takes forever to cross and yet not enough time at all. Baze knows that he should use the time to put together what he will say, how he will ask for forgiveness. He does none of this. The entire walk back all he can do is watch Chirrut’s careful feet and think about the strength behind them, the way that he has seen this man take people down effortlessly with just his feet alone, laughing all the while. Baze has yet to hear Chirrut laugh, and he wonders if he is the reason for Chirrut turning to kyber, if it was necessary for him to turn hard because of the steps that Baze has taken, the years that he has wasted. And they are wasted, those years. There is no getting them back. Thousands of moments, kisses, touches, words, whispers, memories lost because he slipped away in the middle of the night and spent all that time throwing himself at death in a hundred different forms. A man with a kind of death wish, the death wish of the heart more than anything, and now his heart feels twisted all over again. Nothing has changed. He feels no better for having escaped to the sky, lived in the belly of a ship in silence for years. It didn’t solve anything. All it did was leave him beaten and worn, tired, scarred. Now there are physical manifestations for the wounds on his soul. Is that it then? Was the entire thing just a long journey to self destruction? How sad and ignoble of him. Especially the thought of leaving Chirrut for something as small as all that.When they enter the room, Chirrut finally drops his wrist, leaves him at the threshold as though he is unwilling to lead him any further, as though what he does now is no longer of any consequence. Or it is a test to see if Baze will run again. It can be difficult to tell with Chirrut, especially when he is as silent as he is now. Baze closes the door behind him and secures it. There is a hesitation in him for a moment before he slides the repeater canon off, leaving the weapons on the floor, followed by the armor. It only takes a handful of minutes before he is standing there in nothing but a flight suit, feeling very vulnerable without the assortment of protection that he has been wearing for years. With everything strewn on the floor around him, with the weight off his back, he feels more than anything the rush of all the other burdens he has heaped onto himself, the pressing heaviness of the deaths that he remembers, all of them, will never forget. He is surprised that his hands do not drip blood onto the floor. He is surprised that he is not so Force stained that Chirrut chases him into the desert. Chirrut still has not done anything. He stands, back to him, silent, strong as kyber and maybe as sharp now too. Baze drops to his knees, and the sound is harsh in the small room. His breath comes out in a rush as if it is the first true exhale he has managed in a long time. “Chirrut, I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s for everything. Everything that he has done. Everything that he didn’t say. All the blood he has brought in, all the sins he has committed, all the times he never came home. The fact that he left home at all.Chirrut finally turns, and his face is stony, a face that Baze recognizes even with the mouth set in such a line. He remembers seeing it when they would spar, when he would get the upper hand unexpectedly, there would be that moment of determination, of slightly simmering anger before Chirrut would cover it with a smile and then prove that he was the better fighter. Again. His sigh seems loud enough to rattle the glasses on a small table as he crosses to where Baze is and settles himself on the ground as well.Baze cannot tear his eyes away from Chirrut, drinks him in, and it has been so long. In his mind, nothing about Chirrut has changed so he never added in wrinkles or slight scars, never considered that time would move the same for Chirrut as it did for him. All these little changes that he missed and now he wants to memorize them before this breaks like glass in his hands. Other than the sterile hands of the medic, Baze has not been touched in years so when Chirrut’s fingers first lift, he actually flinches back and away from them for a moment, and does not miss how that motion brings concern stark across Chirrut’s forehead. “Baze,” Chirrut says, and it means so many things, the way it always does, that Baze is afraid he’ll miss one of them because he is just so relieved that Chirrut will still even let it fall from his lips. More than anything, though, Baze knows that it means Chirrut needs to see him so he presses forward, letting the tips of those elegant fingers brush his face.When Chirrut’s hands touch his face, cradle it, he shudders, pressing closer to the caress, needing it. He spent so many nights trying to fight the memory back, push it into the darkness so that he would not feel as utterly ruined as he does now. The fingers are steady, careful, and deliberate. Baze watches Chirrut’s features to try and gauge a reaction to the changes but nothing flickers there at all. The eyes are blue, fixed, stoic, and his mouth still a line. Kyber. Then the fingers trace across the stitches and everything changes. All of the cold, all of that thick blue ice falls away. Dismay dances across Chirrut’s face, and terror seems to prick at the edges of his eyes. His touch immediately gentles as he counts the stitches and then does it again. And then again as though he cannot stand to look anywhere else. Maybe he is hoping that it will disappear under his fingers if he keeps touching. Maybe he thinks smoothing that one injury away will fix everything in Baze that has broken. Baze does not know, but he knows that watching Chirrut’s face as his fingers trace it is wringing him open inside, it’s like everything that he stuffed into that black hole has started to come up all at once, and he is caught in the torrent. The surface tension is breaking.“Still beautiful. No matter what has happened,” Chirrut says. “Still beloved.”The downpour starts. Baze weeps as the hurts of the forgotten years move over him. He is drowning in it, slowly, except that there are strong, capable hands that have caught him and are holding him up, and there is that voice, the one he tried to chase away in the dark by counting his breaths, that is whispering solid comforts to him. And Baze Malbus weeps openly, he cries into the hands that have known him at his best and his worst, he cries into the hands that are strong as kyber but not sharp, not with him. Baze weeps, and he does not turn to stone or dust. He does not blow away on the Jedhan wind.
|
10030892
|
The Boy Voted Most
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Sephiroth, Cloud Strife, Hojo (Compilation of FFVII), Zack Fair, Aerith Gainsborough, Fuhito (Compilation of FFVII), Tifa Lockhart, Barret Wallace, Cid Highwind, Vincent Valentine, Lucrecia Crescent, Yuffie Kisaragi, Reeve Tuesti, Reno (Compilation of FFVII)",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by CryptCreeperX",
"chapters": "1/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "7,733",
"Additional Tags": "Horror, Teen Romance, Jealousy, Awkward Crush, Mad Scientist, Odd Family, Violence, Torture, Recreational Drug Use, Drinking, Coming of Age, Sexual Tension, Cheating, Sex, Misunderstandings, Death, Dark, Gothic, Alternate Universe - High School, Stalking",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Sephiroth/Cloud Strife, Cloud Strife/Other(s)",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": "M/M, F/M",
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
PROLOGUE: On the Run
When Father told him it was time to take out the trash, Sephiroth knew what he meant. Dragging a corpse in the middle of Corel’s desert, the seven-year-old child pulled the entire weight of it with one hand. His bulky yellow hazmat bodysuit made it difficult to move and see. Not only did Sephiroth feel hot and sticky in it, but the suit appeared one size too big for his tiny frame. Each time he exhaled his plastic visor fogged in front of his face. Meanwhile, Father followed a few steps behind, donned in similar attire. Dr. Hojo remained silent as they approached a trio of chemical barrels. Hydrofluoric acid filled each of them.Plenty of stars littered across the night sky above. The hour fell late. Only the moon and bright beams of a station wagon’s headlights offered them visual aid. As the wolves from distant rocky mountains howled, the son and father duo lifted the corpse together and carefully placed it inside one of the acid-filled containers. Even with the face mask on, the child’s unusual keen senses detected the stench of plastic, copper, and something similar to a sweet musky perfume. His father secured the lid.In silence, both returned to the beat-up, late-model station wagon several feet away. The lively sounds of a stringed instrument ensemble played from its stereo.They still had two more bodies to dump. That didn’t bother Sephiroth as much as knowing they needed to skip town soon. He knew the Turks were on their way. His father had been too ambitious for his own good this time. Corel’s local authorities already started to connect the number of missing persons to the town’s oddball dentist. It would only be a matter of time before a sheriff or Turk busted down the door of their apartment to apprehend Dr. Hojo.“Hm, this one is too large…” noted Father as he studied the bodies in their trunk, momentarily breaking Sephiroth from his mental ramblings. His cracked voice sounded muffled behind the suit’s visor. “It was an unfortunate lack of foresight on my part, yes; one that must be remedied.”The late-twenties man lifted off his suit’s flimsy mask and breathed in the opened air. His long dark hair was pulled back into a loose low-rise ponytail, revealing his pale skin. With a long straight nose, prominent chin, and pitch-black eyes, Dr. Hojo held all the presence of a dark brooding man. Sleep deprivation and years of intense study added lines along the forehead and between the brows. Despite his withered appearance, though, he possessed a bizarre allure. It both repulsed and fascinated many.Father readjusted the thin frames of his glasses with a finger and stared at one of the dead bodies stashed in their wagon’s trunk space. A plastic sheet rested under the corpses to prevent bodily fluids from seeping into the carpeted interior. Dr. Hojo shook his head and emitted a low growl.Removing his mask as well, Sephiroth instantly welcomed the chilly air of Corel’s desert. His neck-length silver hair stayed matted and pressed against his flushed cheeks and forehead.The fact many mistook him for a girl couldn’t be helped. His long dark lashes, blush-pink lips, petite shape and large green eyes made him too lovely and delicate to be otherwise. Sephiroth learned to deal with it. He kept telling himself it was a matter of little significance. Even so, he inwardly hoped when he got older he could amass enough height and muscles to make his sex more obvious.Observing the two corpses now, the child realized his father was right. One of them had very long legs. There was no way it’d fit inside one of the barrels.“Be a good boy and resolve the issue for us,” ordered Father. “Snap to it now. Snap, snap, snap.”The child’s large, jade-colored eyes dimly glowed. Their strange slit-like pupils thinned even more. Wordlessly, Sephiroth left his father’s side to fetch a blade that rested across the passenger’s side. It was so long, the back seat had to be pulled back to make room for its body.The car’s rusted door squeaked as the youngster opened it. Sephiroth made a face when he noticed a small animal sleeping at the passenger’s foot space. Barney, a baby Behemoth coated with purple fur and spiked red hair, was supposed to be on watch duty, looking out for desert wild life and any local authorities snooping close by. Instead, Sephiroth’s childhood pet kept its eyes closed. It briefly opened them and lazily stretched out its small body. The tail wagged several times when Barney noticed Sephiroth. Then it shut its yellow eyes and fell back to sleep.“Indolent creature…” the child muttered, borrowing a line his father often used. He took out the long sheathed sword and shut the door as quietly as possible.By the time Sephiroth rejoined his father, the man had pulled enough of the body out of the trunk to stretch out its long legs. Dr. Hojo held onto the ankles and lifted them high. Sephiroth took a few moments to remove the lengthy sword from its holster.Masamune originated from Wutai, the very place Father was born and raised before being cast out in his teens by Lord Godo for defiling a deceased warrior’s corpse in the name of science. Setting the blade on the ground, the novice sword bearer nearly lost his balance as he yanked and pulled Masamune all the way out of its elongated holster. The white metal gleamed under the moon’s lighting.It was said only a great warrior could weld this blade. Small hands wrapped around its handle. The child lifted the sword high. Despite having the strength to hold it, he still lacked balance and struggled not to fall backward when he held it slightly more to one side. Sephiroth managed to swiftly resolve the issue with one stroke, nonetheless, making sure to strike true and hard.Both legs plopped out without a sound. It was a clean cut.“I feel like pizza,” Father announced later. Dr. Hojo dropped the legs and pulled out the remaining torso from the trunk. He began dragging it across the dirt path and headed to the second container. “How about you, boy? Do you desire edible substance as well?”Holstering the massive sword with as much effort as it took getting it out, Sephiroth glanced up at him. Pizza. He suspected this was Father’s way of apologizing for the inconvenience of his actions. Or perhaps the man underestimated their delicate situation and didn’t see the need to leave Corel right away. Regardless of his reasons, both corners of Sephiroth’s mouth tugged. The restless, eager spirit of a seven-year-old child started to peek out from its usual stoic façade.He was in the mood for pizza too.“The Golden Saucer?” the boy suggested. His green eyes brightened even more when he confessed, “Their pizza is satisfactory, Father. Also, I… want to play some of the games and ride the gondola.”Dr. Hojo snorted. “Foolish child. The Saucer is closed. It’s past midnight. Think before you suggest.”Sephiroth pursed his lips and shoved Masamune back into its proper place.When silence prevailed between them, Dr. Hojo stopped dragging the body. He looked back at his son and tilted his head to one side. Words emerged low and soft when he offered, “I will take you to the park instead. Will that suffice, boy?”Sephiroth’s youthful features glowed warmly. Despite it being late at night with the air chilly, he already looked forward to playing on the park’s swings and monkey bars. He nodded.“Ah, excellent,” concurred his father. “Very good then, boy. The faster we dispose of these useless specimens the faster I can heat up the oven pizza at home. We will eat it at the park. On the double now, boy. Chop, chop, chop.”Sephiroth quickly gathered the dismembered legs from the ground. He followed his father to the second barrel. Both flipped on their masks before opening the barrel’s lid and dumping the evidence in acid.Taking out the trash was a common affair for Sephiroth. He knew these corpses had something to do with Father’s work but remained oblivious to the details. Dr. Hojo kept that information to himself. The boy’s only concern rested on luring specimens to his laboratory. Some were chosen at random; others chosen for their blood type or genetic-based encoding.For Sephiroth, he’d been encouraged to think of his assignments as a game of wit and persuasion. His lost-child performance proved effective. He’d pick a spot within his target’s facility and pretend to be lost, begging them to take him home to find his daddy. The tears would only come out if the specimen was level-headed enough to suggest they contact the authorities than personally handle the matter. Luckily, Sephiroth’s ethereal appearance and gentle voice made them all susceptible to his influence.Any time he succeeded in acquiring a specimen, Dr. Hojo rewarded his son by letting him play in a VR game specifically designed for him. For hours, Sephiroth practiced his swordsmanship in the digital world while his father conducted medical check-ups of his specimens. On the occasion that Sephiroth’s VR game was interrupted by the sound of screams from the lab, Dr. Hojo reminded him of their overall objective. He also warned his son not to get emotionally attached to the specimens or anyone else.The world is filled with deceitful, fickle creatures ready to take what is yours, boy. You will learn only pain and loss if you attach yourself to someone. In the aftermath of loss, the brain pumps your body full of cortisol and epinephrine, resulting in swollen muscles and headaches. You’d think your body was falling apart. Best to avoid such symptoms altogether. Accept we are star dust; destined to exist and die alone.Sephiroth kept those words in mind whenever he felt his stomach churn at the sight of a new target.Unfortunately, these extracurricular activities made life complicated. The local authorities would always catch onto his father’s handiwork. At that point, the two had to skip town. It was vital they kept on the move and remained under the radar. A lot of people searched for them, namely Shinra’s people.From what Sephiroth had been told, his father used to work for their Science Department along with a team of other scientists. Two of them, Dr. Gast and Dr. Crescent, conspired against him though. They stole his life’s work and kicked him out of the Department. Shortly after, his father was thought dead after an assassination attempt.Sephiroth never met the traitors. He was just a baby when Shinra’s people betrayed Dr. Hojo. His mother, Jenova, died giving birth to him. The Science Department – specifically, Dr. Crescent– tried to take custody of the silver-haired boy.Growing up, Sephiroth knew he was special. He had inherited the unique genetic legacy of his mother. He could do things others his age couldn’t do; see things others couldn’t see. Father explained Dr. Crescent wanted him for Shinra’s SOLDIER program. She wanted to exploit his innate gifts. He’d become Shinra’s new shiny toy to order around and break. Thankfully, Father rescued him from that life. They fled Midgar City together and had been on the run ever since.Seven years had passed since their great escape but they remained on the Turks’ Most Wanted list. Taking on various identities to elude the men in suits, Sephiroth and his father went through various names and occupations as frequently as they changed clothes. Dr. Hojo had been a pharmacist, a nurse, and a dentist. Sephiroth had been Stephan, Stevens, and… Bob. Still, the Turks proved relentless. They eventually tracked their location. One particular agent, a tall dark-haired man with crimson eyes, was the most persistent of them all.Valentine.This Turk seemed hell-bent in retrieving the silver-haired boy and handing him over to Dr. Crescent. He had likely been sent on her behalf. Dr. Hojo instructed his son to avoid Valentine at all costs and not to believe any of his lies.Deception. Running. Hiding. This had become Sephiroth’s reality. Soon, he would start a new life in a new town with a new name. Different place. Different identity. Same predicament. Because of Shinra, he couldn’t live a normal existence like the other kids. Sephiroth grew determined to bring down the company that ruined their lives, especially the two scientists that betrayed his father. He also vowed to protect Dr. Hojo at all costs. He didn’t want to lose him to prison or death; he’d already lost his mother.“You won’t leave me, Father, will you?” the child quietly asked, removing the last body from the trunk.This question came out of his mouth so suddenly that even he had to pause afterward. Admittedly, this fear had been haunting Sephiroth for a long time. As strong as he was, as fast as he was, as smart as he was, he dreaded the possibility of being alone in this world; of being abandoned.“Foolish child,” Father responded with, “Only pathetic, feeble-minded little boys ask irrelevant questions like that. You are not pathetic or feeble-minded, are you?”“…No, Father.”“Do not act or talk as such then.”“…Yes, Father.”Dr. Hojo walked side-by-side with his son to the final barrel. The scientist folded his arms behind him and studied the night sky above. Even with the biohazard mask on, his voice still carried strong and loud. “Sephiroth. I’ve partaken in many experiments in my life. I’ve endured countless failures in my quest to test the laws of science. You… are my greatest creation. For the first time in my life, I stand witness to something even science cannot define or contain.”Slowing down, Sephiroth turned his head. His green eyes filled with a soft light as he watched his father.“In time, you will grow into a splendid man. You will sail the cosmos long after my body has rotted. It may be a difficult and lonely journey for you. That often is the case for individuals the world cannot comprehend. You may walk among men but you will always stand above them as a God. Thus, you must physically and mentally be strong. You must endure and prevail. Do you understand my words, boy? Do you understand their significance?”Sephiroth slowly nodded.“Until the day comes when I last draw my breath, I will watch over you. You are my legacy and what a fruitful legacy that will be.” This time, Dr. Hojo looked back at Sephiroth. The creases between his brows relaxed. “Now quicken the pace, boy. I starve, heh heh heh.”It wasn’t long until all three bodies were secured in their barrels. They buried them deep in Corel’s desert. Even if the Turks located them, Sephiroth knew his father’s work would be dissolved in the acid long before they arrived. Dr. Hojo also rigged each container with explosives. Anyone foolish enough to disturb them and survive the blast would be sprayed by the acid. Either way, their work was done. They headed home. Five minutes remained on an oven’s digital timer. Warm air circulated throughout the apartment along with the aroma of freshly cooked pizza. Sephiroth couldn’t wait to feast on it. Solid food was a rarity for him. His entire diet revolved around green colored protein shakes Dr. Hojo specifically concocted for him. They tasted sweet and tangy. In the times Sephiroth felt too nauseous to ingest the shakes, he’d be strapped to an IV that pumped him with an unknown green liquid. He had no idea what the fluid contained, only that it made him feel lightheaded.Situated on the second floor of an apartment complex, the child left the door of his bedroom opened to keep an eye on the oven directly across in the kitchen. As he did, he shoved various personal items into his Moogle-shaped backpack. Barney slept on his mattress while late-night reruns of Chocobo and Cactuar Adventures broadcasted on a television screen.“Kweh! Today we’re going on a grand adventure with the family, kids,” announced Chocobo. “We’re going to have lots of super fun! Kweh!”Sephiroth sincerely doubted that. He didn’t look forward to the move. Still, he humored Chocobo and Cactuar anyway by watching the rest of their show while he continued to pack. Onscreen, Cactuar appeared next. It blinked its large green eyes and stared directly at him.“Spending time with the family is super important, kids. Not all families are the same, but that’s okay. We all have one thing in common: love.”“Love…” Sephiroth echoed.“So make sure you spend as much time with your family and tell them you love them, kids!”“I don’t think my father would approve of that…” Sephiroth tried to reason with the fictional character, “He views love as an irrational emotion based on manipulation and coercion.”“Kweh! Love your family, kids,” reinforced Chocobo, as if that was the only thing that mattered right now. “Can you spell ‘family’, kweh?”“F-A-M-I-L-Y…” Sephiroth answered confidently and slid a pair of underwear into his backpack.“Kweh! That’s right,” Chocobo automatically replied moments later.The child furrowed his silver brows while he watched Chocobo and Cactuar dance onscreen. He knew this was a recorded rerun and wondered aloud, “But what if I had misspelled it, Chocobo? It seems inappropriate to presume I would’ve answered your question correctly.”“Kweh! Now onto our adventure!” continued Chocobo, ignoring his question. “Let’s gooooo!”“Insufferable, imbecilic bird… Be gone.” With the remote, Sephiroth changed the channel to another kid show he liked.To his right, the sound of running water came from the bathroom he shared with his father. The door was closed. Dr. Hojo currently showered, getting rid of any traces from tonight’s activities on his person. Sephiroth wanted to have all his packing done before he got out, lest he received a lengthy lecture on promptness.The plan was simple: load whatever was left in the apartment to the car and head out to the park with their pizza. Tonight would be their final night in Corel Town. It promised to be a peaceful one. As always, Father had promised this would be the last time they needed to move but Sephiroth knew better. He didn’t question him or express his doubts though.Already, he dreaded the woes that came from transferring schools. By now, he’d gone through three of them. Or was it four? Difficult to keep track of. At only seven-years-old, all of his instructors considered him a smart clever boy – save for that one time he told everyone his mother was an alien from outer space during Parents Day. Sephiroth shocked many adults with his knowledge of biology and chemistry too; his father had personally seen to that. A child prodigy, they all claimed. His current school wanted to jump him ahead several grades.If only he could stick around long enough to complete his classes.The child reached and grabbed a yellow framed picture from a nearby dresser. It showed his father and him at the Golden Saucer. Sephiroth’s younger self held a Moogle plushie. A rare easy smile appeared on his father’s face. While he didn’t hold Sephiroth like the other parents did with their children, he stood close by his side with one hand on his shoulder.Holding the framed picture close to his chest, Sephiroth recalled that had been a fun time. Father’s laugh sounded different that day; gentle and soft. He wished they could go back to that place, to that specific moment of normalcy. Sephiroth finally let go of the treasured memory when loud laughter directed his attention to a glassed door behind him. It led to his balcony outside.Despite being one in the morning, a barbeque party commenced at the ground level’s public pool. Still holding onto his framed picture, Sephiroth padded barefooted across the carpet floor of his bedroom. He wandered to the balcony outside and peeked over the metal railing.A large group of teenagers occupied the outdoor space. Music blasted from stereo speakers while the pits steamed with various scents of cooked meat. Liquids with bright colors were gulped down in an instant. It looked like a lively environment, complete with party balloons. Sephiroth stood upright when he noticed a good number of topless women strutting about in the party. They swam or danced, swaying their hips to the beat of the music. The child’s cheeks colored warmly.He was familiar with the biological structure of females but had never seen a naked one in person before. The illustrations on his tablet left… a lot of details out, such as how breasts appeared when under the influence of gravity and motion. Interesting.Sephiroth blinked several times when he discovered two teens at a dark corner, both male, doing something with their lower regions. The child shifted his head to one side. He watched their bodies repeatedly press together. Baffled by this activity, he determined it was some sort of mating ritual. But what was the point? Males could not procreate with other males. Sephiroth wondered if the information he’d read on human reproduction had been wrong all along. Perhaps he missed some vital piece of data. He’d have to ask Father for additional input whenever he had the chance.A sequential beeping sound from the kitchen reminded Sephiroth about the pizza. He turned away from the odd scene below and re-entered his bedroom, ready to check on dinner. Sephiroth froze by the glassed door when he discovered the tall silhouette of a man at his room’s opened entry.The stranger’s arrival came so soundless and swift Sephiroth hadn’t detected him until now. Even Barney stayed unaware. His young Behemoth still slept. Standing several feet away from the intruder, Sephiroth recognized the dark two-piece suit he wore; complete with a tie and white collared shirt. Short raven-black hair reached down to his neck. His piercing red eyes locked onto the boy’s green.It was Valentine.“Sephiroth… I mean you no harm,” Valentine murmured. He took only one step forward with both palms opened and raised, proving himself unarmed.Sephiroth dropped the framed picture in his hands. It made a low thud sound as it hit the carpet floor; too low to wake Barney up. The boy mentally cursed at himself. Had he stayed vigilant, he would’ve picked up on Vincent’s signature scent above the pizza’s aroma. He also would’ve heard him approach over the sounds of his television and the party’s music below. Remembering he had left his sword on the passenger’s seat, Sephiroth knew Father would scold him for his negligence later.“I’m glad you’re all right…” continued the Turk. He stayed by the doorway with hands still up in the air but leaned his head forward. “You have to come with me. Okay? I need to get you somewhere safe.”Maintaining his distance, Sephiroth’s nose caught whiff of more unique scents in the air. Gun metal, moss, and cinnamon. They matched the profiles of two Turks that usually accompanied Vincent in his manhunt mission: Tseng and Veld. Either they were in route or currently blocked potential escape exits.Hearing the water in the bathroom still running, the boy contemplated on alerting Father of the intruders. His mouth stayed pursed when he noted the pistol tucked discretely in Valentine’s jacket. The last thing Sephiroth wanted was to prompt the Turk to remove his weapon and shoot the man in the bathroom. His priority was to protect Father. At all costs.“Sephiroth, come with me,” Valentine urged again and finally lowered his hands. The light in his red eyes shimmered. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”Afraid? The child nearly snorted. That word held little meaning for him when it came to life-threatening circumstances. His strength and speed made him more terrifying than the boogeyman that supposedly slept under his bed whenever he forgot to floss his teeth. It wouldn’t take much effort to ram his tiny fist into Valentine’s ribbed cage and yank out his still beating heart. This possibility certainly explained why the Turk took great care in approaching him; he’d essentially entered a lion’s den.Every part of Sephiroth demanded he eliminate the threat and extract Dr. Hojo before the other two Turks arrived. That made logical sense. Sephiroth stayed put though. The fact Valentine came by himself and unarmed, fully knowing he could die, stirred the child’s curiosity. Either the Turk had a death wish or was foolish enough to believe he could overpower a boy classified as a Class S threat.“My God… You look more and more like her each time I see you…” Valentine’s voice was nearly lost to the television’s cheery melody. His chest rose and fell as he took a slow, deep breath. “I promised your mother I would protect you at all costs and bring you back to her. Not a day goes by that she doesn’t think about you, Sephiroth.”The mention of mother caused the boy to glower. Sephiroth knew better than to engage in conversation with this man. However, the sensitive topic prompted him to spit out, “Liar. My mother is dead.”“That’s not true…”“Silence,” the boy cut him off. “You are trying to deceive me and take me away from Father.”Valentine moved forward. He stopped in the middle of the room when Sephiroth took a step back to keep their distance. The Turk paused. Then he kneeled on one leg to reach the boy’s eye level. “I’m not sure what you’ve been told, Sephiroth. I don’t know how much you know or don’t know. However, I’m not what you think I am. I am not your enemy.”“Oh?” Sephiroth wrinkled his nose. A peculiar smell drifted in the air now but he chose to ignore it, feeling too invested in their conversation. “You came to kill my father and take me to Shinra. That is all I need to know you’re my enemy.”“Not everything is what it seems to be…” Valentine lowered his gaze to the ground. He found the framed photo of Sephiroth and his father together there. The Turk visibly swallowed. “I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear the truth. Quite honestly, I shouldn’t be the person to tell you it. The truth should come from someone who deeply cares about you.”Standing several feet away, Sephiroth remained motionless.Valentine stared intently at the child now. “Your mother isn’t dead. She’s alive. Dr. Crescent… She is your mother, Sephiroth.”Remembering his father’s warnings, Sephiroth took another step back. He refused to believe Valentine’s lies. His thick locks of silver hair swayed as he shook his head and clenched his small fists tighter. The ivory skin of his cheeks flared with color. “Jenova was my mother. Dr. Crescent is the traitor who wanted to take me away from Father. She betrayed Father. Go back to your master, Turk. Go back and rot with the rest of Shinra’s dogs.”“I’m sworn to protect you.”“I don’t require your protection. I need you to go away and leave us in peace.”“I’m not leaving you behind,” Valentine declared and rose to his feet. He stood at full height. “I already failed you once. I’m not going to fail you again. Perhaps one day, after you know the truth, I can ask you for forgiveness. But until that day comes, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”The man’s words sounded strange to Sephiroth’s ears. Forgiveness? Forgiveness for what?Sephiroth’s patience waned. He reminded himself that Valentine was a Turk. Anything coming out of this man’s mouth consisted of lies intended to confuse him. Shinra’s operatives excelled in deception. All the same, Valentine’s words possessed an air of sincerity in them. A type of sadness and rage existed in his eyes too. It reminded Sephiroth of his father’s whenever he asked about mother.Before Sephiroth could contemplate more on this Turk, a click sound echoed in his bedroom. His eyes shifted to another figure. It stood directly behind Valentine.Father.The water in the bathroom was still running but there stood Dr. Hojo with a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet black hair draped over his shoulders. He held a gun in his hand and pointed it directly at the back of Valentine’s head. The hammer was already pulled back.“You did well, Sephiroth,” Father commended. “You distracted Mr. Valentine long enough for me to get into position, heh. Such a good boy…”Sephiroth’s mouth formed a thin line.The baby Behemoth awoke from its slumber with a slow start upon hearing Dr. Hojo’s loud voice and chuckle. When its yellow eyes fixed on an intruder, however, its tail instantly shot up straight. It snarled at Valentine. Quickly, the young Behemoth jumped down from the bed and scurried to Sephiroth’s side, ready to protect him. Its small, high-pitched roar echoed across the room. Concerned his pet might accidentally run into the line of Father’s fire, the boy snatched Barney up and held it close to his chest.“Ah, I imagine the position I’ve put you in must be frustrating, eh, Mr. Valentine?” Dr. Hojo pointed out with a sneer. “And here I thought you were a well-trained professional Turk capable of detecting threats a mile away. You’ve gotten sloppy.” Dr. Hojo turned to Sephiroth. “Or… perhaps the sight of my son has relieved you of your senses, hmm? Quite a beautiful child he is, wouldn’t you say? He does remind you of a certain someone. Doesn’t he?”Valentine’s teeth tapped together.“Dr. Crescent must be getting desperate,” continued Dr. Hojo. “After all this time, she is still using her lap dog to retrieve what is rightfully mine.”“Hojo…” the Turk muttered back at last. Valentine’s half-lidded eyes strayed to the scientist behind him. “There’s no need to let this go on any further. I’ll call off the hunt. You’ll be given a clean slate. You can do whatever the hell you want from this point on; I no longer give a damn. Just give me the boy. This madness has to stop.”“You sound as if I acted alone on this. Don’t forget, she conceded to it too.”“She is trying to set things right.”“It’s too late to set things right. We’ve crossed the point of no return. In the end, we are scientists; we have always been scientists. We worship the same principles and have sacrificed much for those principles. An inferior mind like yours wouldn’t understand.”Valentine’s jaw clenched. “Maybe I don’t. But I do understand a great sin has been committed against an innocent boy. He is the one paying the price for your principles. If there is an ounce of humanity left in you, Hojo, you will hand him over to me.”Dr. Hojo edged closer. “I’ve no intention of giving up my son, Mr. Valentine. Any reckless buffoon that attempts to take him away from me will reap the consequences. Starting with you.”Hojo pushed the gun’s tip against the Turk’s head. His index finger moved to pull back the trigger. He paused, however, when a high-pitched noise erupted from the kitchen.Thick gray smoke pumped into the air from the oven. Its fogged glass lit up brightly, revealing a fire had started. The stench of charred pizza lingered in the apartment. Sephiroth realized that had been the strange smell he detected earlier.The non-stop alarm sound momentarily caught Hojo off guard. In a blur, Valentine moved left. He halfway twisted his body and elbowed the other man on the face. Hojo stumbled back. Sephiroth reactively flinched when he heard the loud pop of his gun go off. His father yelled as he blindly fired several shots into the air, trying to hit Valentine while falling backward. One projectile grazed Sephiroth’s shoulder. He blinked at the fresh cut.“Get down!” Valentine ordered and leapt toward the child. Pushing him to the floor, the Turk shielded Sephiroth from another stray bullet. Blood splattered across the carpet. The boy noticed a blotch of red quickly spread across Valentine’s chest.Sephiroth coughed. While the closed oven contained the fire, the flames hadn’t died out due to the ignitor still on. Blacker clouds of smoke emitted from the kitchen. They filtered throughout the apartment. Sephiroth’s acute nose made it difficult to breathe in the toxic air.Underneath the Turk, Sephiroth clutched onto Barney who yelped and squirmed under the weight of the tall man lying on top of them. The boy heard the Turk’s erratic heartbeat. Valentine’s fatal chest injury forced his heart to work double time, supplying him with blood only to cause him to choke on it. Red streaked a corner of Valentine’s mouth. Sephiroth knew he wouldn’t last long.“Why…?” the boy found himself asking, staring at the enemy who shielded him. “I… I didn’t require your assistance.” He coughed again.“I already told you… I’m sworn to protect you…”Sephiroth lay motionlessly, looking up at him. Their faces were inches apart from each other.For the briefest of moments, Valentine smiled. It reached his own peculiar set of eyes. His thumb brushed aside a strand of silver hair from Sephiroth’s right cheek. Despite breathing out his final moments, the Turk looked completely at peace.“You may be a child, Sephiroth…” Valentine whispered, “You may not have control over your life right now… However, in time you’ll get to decide on what kind of man you want to be when you grow up… That’s something science or your parents can’t control… Don’t lose that. Don’t lose your light…”Sephiroth watched the light in Valentine’s red eyes slowly fade. Blood dripped from his parted lips. The Turk exhaled one more time before he collapsed on top of him. His punctured heart stopped beating.“Why…?” the child murmured beneath him. Staring blankly at the ceiling above, he observed the smoke gather there.The sound of footsteps quickly approached from Sephiroth’s left side. His father appeared in his vision now. Dr. Hojo stood above him, peering down at him with a pale expression on his face.“Are you hurt, boy?” His father quickly shoved Valentine’s body to the side. Barney whined and freed itself from Sephiroth’s grasp while Dr. Hojo scanned his son for visible damages. He grimaced when he noticed a cut on the shoulder. His laugh sounded forced as he uttered, “A scratch, boy… Heh, just a scratch. I’ll heal that up soon.”It seemed like a pointless gesture, Sephiroth thought to himself. His body already started to mend the wound. Before he could point this out, his father grabbed the back of his head and pulled him close, holding him tight in his arms. Sephiroth froze. His body grew tensed.This… was the first time his father ever hugged him.“I’m not letting them take you away from me; never,” Dr. Hojo mumbled close to Sephiroth’s ear. His damped skin smelled of fresh ivory from his recent shower. The next words that came out of him sounded low and harsh. “The world will burn before they can take you away. You belong to me…”Green eyes softened. Sephiroth slumped deeper into his father’s arms, taking comfort in his warmth, smell, and closeness. The child wanted this embrace to last forever.When Sephiroth noticed the fallen Turk next to them, his body reactively stiffened again. He knew he should’ve been glad by the results. Valentine was finally gone. He no longer posed a threat to them. And yet, Sephiroth couldn’t find it in himself to be content with this conclusion. The Turk’s demise and his words left him feeling… lost.“We need to leave, boy,” Dr. Hojo implored when he pulled away. He held Sephiroth’s face with both hands. “Gather your belongings. Quickly. Others are coming.”Father was right. Sephiroth heard Valentine’s partners close by. They shot the lock mechanism of their apartment’s front entry and forced their way in. Dr. Hojo hurried to shut the door of Sephiroth’s bedroom and block it with a dresser to buy them time. He grabbed his pistol off the ground afterward.At this point, Sephiroth got to his feet. He laced up his shoes and slipped on his backpack within seconds. After retrieving his pet, he followed Dr. Hojo to the balcony. The child paused at the glassed door to look back at Valentine one more time.Don’t lose your light. The boy tried to dismiss those final words as trivial nonsense. Nonetheless, they resonated deep within him for some reason. Even the conversation that happened between Valentine and his father moments ago evoked many questions. They seemed on familiar terms with each other. Did Father… know this Turk beforehand?A loud banging from the other side of the bedroom door jotted Sephiroth out of his stupor. His father yelled for him to hurry to the balcony. The boy complied. He joined his father outside and looked down at the pool below.By now, the party-goers paused and looked up at the commotion. The music still thumped but no one danced. Other residents in the apartment building also came out of their dwellings to investigate the bizarre scene. Many eyes widened in shock when they noticed a man donned in a bath towel and his seven-year-old son leap over the balcony’s railing from the second floor together.Sephiroth held his breath and made sure to hold onto Barney tightly as he dropped two levels straight down. In seconds, blue consumed his vision.Underwater, Sephiroth kicked up his legs until he reached the surface. Barney slithered out of his grasp by then and padded to the edge of the pool with its paws. Sephiroth followed in the same direction. Both got out of the pool before Dr. Hojo did.While Barney rapidly shook itself, the boy waited for his father. Dr. Hojo cursed. It was a rare occurrence for the likes him, especially when the highly intellectual man deemed such immature language beneath him. Sephiroth reached out a hand to him, urging him to hurry. Father looked reluctant to get out of the water though. His son soon discovered the issue.The dive’s deep impact caused the man to lose his towel in the process. As amusing as that was, the colorful moment became short lived. Several shots rained over them from the balcony.The Turks.Immediately, the barbeque party dispersed. Teenagers screamed as they scattered in all directions. Those in the pool swam for the ledge. Modesty be damned, Sephiroth yanked his father out of the water. In his panicked state he used a bit too much force. Dr. Hojo’s arm made a crude pop sound. He yelled a high note and collapsed on the wet pavement in front of his son; his limb a tangled mess. While Sephiroth felt relieved he hadn’t torn off his arm, the man’s face turned into a fierce red color.Dr. Hojo gritted his teeth and barely managed to say, “The car, boy…”Bullets bounced off various surfaces close to them. Thanks to the teens that scattered everywhere, the Turks had trouble finding a good shot. Sephiroth realized their bullets were intended for Dr. Hojo though. He made sure to position himself close, offering his father extra coverage as they dashed for the family station wagon. It was at the parking lot just beyond the pool area.The Turks lowered their weapons. They dropped into the pool as well to pursue the chase on foot.Soaked and naked and in physical agony, Dr. Hojo muttered a range of lengthy incoherent words when they arrived at their car and opened its unlocked doors. Sephiroth knew he’d be reprimanded over his lack of strength control later – it was something he still needed work on. Inside the car, he helped his father pop the arm back into place and issued a faint apology. Dr. Hojo responded with a growl. Sephiroth naturally assumed his frustration came from the arm pain. However, he soon learned of an unpleasant revelation as they sat inside their car.The keys to the ignition… They had been left behind during their hasty retreat.Dr. Hojo opened the glove department and pulled out a crystal orb. He passed it to his son. “Boy, deal with those Turks while I bypass the vehicle’s ignition system.”It wasn’t a request: it was an order.Sephiroth instantly knew what he had to do. He’d initially considered using Masamune to do the job but Father’s plan proved more effective. The boy took the fire materia and fused it with his left arm. His skin surged with warmth and dimly glowed red.Under regular circumstances, bonding materia in this manner would’ve resulted in the arm catching on fire. Materia users were, thus, advised to fuse the orb with a weapon or item instead. They could harness the powers of Gaia without blowing up an appendage in the process. For Sephiroth, though, he suffered only mild discomfort from this direct method. His peculiar blood type could adapt and symbiotically fuse with the Lifestream’s crystallized essence.Equipped with a fire orb in his arm, Sephiroth got out of the car. He made sure to close his door so that Barney didn’t follow after him. Meanwhile, Dr. Hojo busied himself with the car’s wires, attempting to spark it to life while trying to ignore the flares of pain that jolted across his arm.Standing in the middle of the parking lot, a cool breeze settled over Sephiroth. His damped silver hair clung to his alabaster skin. In the far distance, the sound of sirens wailed. It indicated the local authorities had been called and were in route. He estimated they’d arrive in ten minutes, which meant they had to be gone before then if they hoped to make it out of Corel without further complications.The rapid succession of footsteps against hard pavement directed Sephiroth’s attention straight ahead. He found Tseng and Veld closing in. Both Turks had their weapons drawn out. However, the two simultaneously stopped meters away when they noticed his left arm glowing.“Sephiroth…” the right one – the older one named Veld – started, “Stand down, son. No one has to get hurt tonight.”“One already has gotten hurt…” the child remarked in a quiet voice. He mentally pictured Valentine’s bloodied smile and cast his eyes on the ground. “Leave. Leave us alone and tend to your fallen man.”Silence filled the space between the three figures in the parking lot. Despite his small height, Sephiroth stood with his head held high and shoulders pulled back. He didn’t want to come off as weak or intimidated in front of these men. Straight ahead, Veld took a step forward.“It wasn’t your fault. Was it, child?” he started, “I surveyed Valentine’s wound. It came from a 9mm Glock pistol. I don’t imagine you’ve used a gun before. Have you?”Sephiroth refrained from confirming Veld’s assessment.“We’ve no intention of punishing you, son,” the older man stated. “Whatever you’ve done, we know it was not of your accordance. Our objective is to ensure your safety and accompany you to Midgar.”Sephiroth stayed quiet. Behind him, the car’s engine briefly revved up. It died a moment later. Father still needed more time to get it started.Meanwhile, the second Turk – Tseng – moved away from Veld. He looked to be in his teens; his long black hair was pulled into a high ponytail. The young man kept his gun down but walked a few steps to the side. The light in Sephiroth’s green eyes intensified. He suspected this one intended to circle around him and get a clear shot of Dr. Hojo while Veld distracted him. For Sephiroth, this confirmed Shinra’s intentions. They wanted to take out his father.Sephiroth raised his left arm. It grew brighter. This prompted Tseng to stop in his tracks. Tseng met his gaze, conveying that same emotionless façade Sephiroth conveyed to the world.“Don’t you want to see your mother?” Veld spoke again. “We can take you to her tonight, son.”Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. The hand of his left arm formed a small fist. Once again, these Turks were trying to exploit his emotions and confuse him. He had enough of these mind games. He closed his eyes and drew out the powers held within his infused materia.“Jenova was my mother,” Sephiroth declared as he cast a semi-circled wall of fire around him. It instantly blocked Veld and Tseng from him and his father.“My god…” he overheard Veld say above the loud cracking of flames, astonished by the fire-master level Sephiroth had achieved despite his very young age.“My mother is dead,” Sephiroth announced soon afterward. His eyes burned brightly. “…as will all of you be if you pursue us any longer.”The cluttered engine of the car sparked to life at last. Through the flames, the small silver-haired boy turned and stalked back to his father.Dr. Hojo murmured a word under his breath as he observed his inferno. He stared at Sephiroth afterward when he got inside the car. From the passenger’s seat, the child mentally commanded the wall of fire to grow even higher, as high as their ten-storied apartment building. He wanted to send a strong message to those who dared to come after them again.Within seconds, the station wagon’s tires squealed. They pulled out of the parking lot at a fast speed.Sephiroth’s final night in Corel wasn’t as peaceful as he had hoped it to be. Their pizza had burned. Both were drenched in water and smelled of chlorine. His father sat stark naked behind the wheel with his long black hair clinging to his skin everywhere. And the Turks had likely called in the choppers in their futile attempt to apprehend them. No, it had not been a peaceful, happy night for Sephiroth.Barney licked the boy’s left hand, as if to console him. Then it settled on his lap, slowly wagging its tail. Sephiroth looked out his window as they raced down a street. He saw his fire still burning at his rear view mirror. Then he watched buildings and cars flash by while they sped into the night.Hopefully their next location fared better.
|
10037333
|
Dominating Mayor Mills
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/F",
"Characters": "Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Emma Swan, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time)",
"Fandom": "Once Upon a Time (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by AOBZ",
"chapters": "5/5",
"completed": "2017-03-31",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "26,367",
"Additional Tags": "Prompt Fic, BDSM, Domme (Emma), sub (Regina), Magic Cock, Throat Squeezing, Use of de-aging terms, Rough Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Dirty Talk, Orgasm Denial, Degradation, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Anal Play",
"Relationship": "Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Dominating Mayor Mills",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Emma sat at the island, slowly sipping her coffee as she waited for Regina to come downstairs. They definitely needed to talk after what had happened last night, and Emma’s stomach vibrated with excitement of what this unexpected change in their sexual relationship meant. Emma had never expected such a development, had never once thought that Regina would ask (more like demand her brain corrected her) that Emma pin her down and fuck her, take her, control her. Not only because it didn’t seem like something Regina would ever enjoy, but also because Regina knew of Emma’s past sexual experiences and her preferences in the bedroom; they’d spoken of them at length, and not once had Regina ever indicated that she’d be interested in submitting to Emma. In their year of dating, not once had she ever hinted that she’d like for Emma to take control of her body in such a way. In fact, based on their past conversations, Emma was pretty sure Regina would be wholly opposed to it, which was why she’d reassured Regina when they’d discussed Emma’s penchant for domination that she was more than able to make love without involving any sort of power play. Regina seemed relieved by Emma’s assurances, and Emma took that as a clear indication that Regina was not and would never be interested in that sort of interaction. And so their relationship had grown and progressed into a wonderfully loving, supporting one, but one which did not including any aspect of the BDSM lifestyle. Well, until last night that is. Things had started out normally enough. They’d had a couple of drinks after dinner (though Regina had poured herself a vodka martini rather than her usual glass of wine), and after Henry had gone to bed, they’d moved upstairs to Regina’s room. They began to kiss and stroke one another, peeling off articles of clothing as they moved to the bed. But then Regina had looked at Emma for a long moment before rolling under her, guiding the woman on top and taking hold of Emma’s hand. Regina had then placed it on her delicate wrist, Emma taking the hint and clasping it gently. Regina had guided Emma’s arm so that her wrist, which Emma held securely, slid along the mattress until her knuckles brushed the bars of the headboard. Regina then grasped one with her hand before moving her other hand up and doing the same, clutching the headboard tight. She then glanced up at Emma, and the two shared a long look.Emma had been a little confused at first, Regina never having initiated being on the bottom before. Usually, they took turns touching one another, rocked their bodies together, or they used a toy until they came. Never had Regina lain under Emma and looked up at her with such a pleading expression. Emma had stared, her mind racing, because she had told Regina months earlier that this was how she usually initiated a scene with her ex-lovers: she would grab their wrists and force them to hold onto the headboard or she bound their wrists in some fashion as a hint that they were to keep their hands away. And now, Regina had done it herself, but she had given Emma this look, this look that told Emma everything she needed to know.After realising what her lover was asking for, Emma’s stomach had clenched with arousal. But, she’d also hesitated. This was the first time Regina had ever put herself in such a vulnerable position- and so quietly too. Usually, they were quite vocal about what they wanted to do to the other. Actively pinning the other down was nothing new, but never before had Regina pinned herself down and guided Emma to be on top. Regina hadn’t looked scared; she’d looked comfortable and eager, but still Emma hesitated. They’d never discussed this, and Emma never topped anyone unless she knew their limits and their wants. Emma knew Regina’s hard limits, as well as what turned her on, but this was different.
“Touch me, Emma. I want you.”
Regina’s pleading voice, her eager look, the way she licked her lips- they all tugged at Emma’s libido, encouraging her to act. Not wanting to break the moment, Emma had proceeded carefully, reminding Regina to tell her to stop the second she didn’t like something. Regina had nodded enthusiastically but didn’t say a word. And so they’d made love in an entirely different way last night. Emma had taken things incredibly slowly, hadn’t taken control in a way that she would have had they had a discussion about Regina’s wants, needs, and limits prior to going to bed. But Emma had still topped Regina in a way that she hadn’t ever before, in the way it seemed Regina wanted, and the brunette had had to scream her releases into a pillow because of just how loud she’d been.This morning, Emma had woken up curled around her sleeping lover, waking her only when she realised they needed to get up for work. And so here she was, sitting at the island and waiting for Regina to get out of the shower. She glanced up at the clock when she heard the familiar sound of heels coming down the stairs, getting up and pouring Regina a cup of coffee as she waited. When Regina entered the kitchen, Emma smiled brightly at her.“Hi, baby.”“Hello, dearest,” Regina greeted, happily taking the cup of coffee from her lover. “Thank you.”“Did you sleep alright?”“I slept incredibly well.”Regina took a sip of her coffee before leaning forward and kissing Emma on the cheek. The truth was, she had slept better last night than she had in a long time. She woke up feeling refreshed, light, and she was in a very good mood this morning.“Good. Listen, I was thinking maybe we could talk-”“I’d love to, darling, but I can’t this morning. I have to leave early for a meeting with the counsel. Perhaps this evening, if I’m home early enough.”Emma, slightly disappointed, nodded.“Okay. Good luck with your meeting.”“Thank you. I’ll see you this evening.”Emma watched Regina head out the front door before turning to the staircase and yelling at Henry to hurry up. She made him peanut butter toast, handing him his breakfast as they both left the house. Emma dropped him off at school before heading to work, her mind preoccupied the entire day as she thought about her discussion with Regina tonight. Emma was curious to find out if her taking control was a one-time deal or if this was something Regina would be interested in doing regularly. If being dominated was something Regina desired, Emma definitely wanted to know what exactly Regina wanted from her, what her limits were, how far she was willing to go, and they needed to come up with a safeword.Emma was also curious to know how long Regina had wanted to do this. Was it a spur of the moment thing or had the woman been thinking about it for a while? Was this something Regina had done with her past lovers or was this completely new? If it was new, Emma would definitely have to take things more slowly. Emma couldn’t help thinking again about whether or not Regina had wanted to do this before. If she had, she’d never hinted at it. Their sex life had consisted mainly of what Emma would call “vanilla” sex. Sure, there had been some light slapping and a hell of a lot of dirty talking, maybe even a few times things were particularly aggressive, but for the most part, it was calm and gentle.When Emma got home that night, she was excited. She was eager to have the discussion she'd been going over in her mind all day. She was a little nervous too, but mostly she was excited. The house was empty for the first hour, allowing Emma time to leisurely prepare dinner. Regina called shortly after Henry arrived from basketball practice to inform them she would not be coming home until later that evening. Emma was disappointed, but she and Henry had had a nice dinner regardless. They ended up on the couch later on, watching tv as they waited for Regina to return home. It was shortly after nine before the Mayor finally walked through the door, both Henry and Emma flashing her a wide smile when she entered the living room.“Hi, mom!”Henry got up from the couch, embracing his mother as she stood in the doorway.“Hello, my little prince,” Regina said affectionately, running her fingers through his hair. “I apologise for arriving so late. Did you have a good day at school?”“Yeah. It was alright. I’m tired though, but I wanted to say goodnight before I went to bed.”“Why don’t you go up to bed and I’ll join you in a minute.”“Okay.”After Henry headed upstairs, Emma got up from the couch and pulled Regina into a hug.“I missed you.”“And I you. It was a rather long day.”“I can imagine,” Emma said, kissing Regina on the head before pulling away. “You want to relax and watch a movie or something?”“No. I should head upstairs and say goodnight to our son. I’d like to turn in early. I have another long day tomorrow.”Emma nodded.“I guess we’re not having our talk tonight then?”“Another day perhaps.”Regina headed upstairs, leaving Emma alone in the living room. She was bummed that they weren’t going to talk, and part of her felt like she was being brushed off. She didn’t like it, but if Regina wasn’t ready to talk yet, she wouldn’t push her. After all, this was completely new territory, and Regina might just need a few days to wrap her mind around what had happened.Emma turned off the lights downstairs and locked the front door, heading up to their bedroom a moment after. She stripped and got ready for bed, waiting under the covers until Regina joined her. The brunette slipped inside, sliding over to Emma and draping herself over the blonde’s firm body. She sighed contently, Emma wrapping her arms around her lover and holding her close.“I missed you very much this evening, darling.”“I missed you too.”Regina looked up at the same time as Emma looked down, the women smiling when their gazes met. Regina leaned up and gave Emma a soft peck on the lips, her hand holding the woman’s strong jaw as they embraced. She shifted to lean on one arm, hovering above Emma and deepening their kiss. Emma responded instantly, opening her mouth when Regina’s tongue traced her bottom lip. Regina was a little mentally drained from her day, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about last night. She hadn’t wanted to talk though. She didn’t want to discuss what this was, didn’t want to answer the why and the what and the how. She didn’t want to confront her desires, bring light upon the fact that she truly wished for Emma to take her. She didn’t want to talk about that side of herself, to acknowledge that there was that part of herself that hated being in control, that just wanted to let go and let someone else hold the reins for once. Too much of her life had centred around power and control, and part of her hated herself for wanting yet another piece of her life to include such themes. But she couldn’t help her desires, couldn’t ignore what she wanted now that she’d had a taste.Never before had she ever allowed anyone to possess her, had ever wanted to submit to someone since Daniel. That part of herself, the one which had existed for as long as she remembered, the part of her that craved to submit, that needed to please, Regina had buried it long ago. But it was coming back, resurfacing every time she and Emma were intimate. And last night, last night it had taken over. She'd needed Emma above her almost as much as she needed air to breathe. And it had felt so good, so freeing, to hand that control over to Emma.Regina didn’t want to analyse her needs though. She didn’t want to deconstruct them. She just knew she wanted it again. She needed it. So Regina repeated her actions from last night. She slowly, gently moved beneath her lover. She lay still, looking up at her as she carefully slipped her wrists into Emma’s grasp. She watched the flash of recognition in Emma’s eyes, observed the way they changed as Regina carefully took the same position she had last night. The way Emma’s eyes hardened made her shiver with desire, made her want with a ferocity that threatened to consume her whole.“Are you trying to tell me something, baby?”Regina stayed quiet. This was a part of her need. She spent so much of her day talking, barking out orders. She just wanted to be quiet for once, to let someone else do the talking and tell her what to do. She just wanted to submit, to cede control. She didn’t want to think. She just wanted to let go.“I asked you a question.”Emma’s harsh tone made her stomach clench with arousal.“Yes, darling.”“You want what we did last night.”Regina spread legs so that Emma was cradled between her own, nodding when Emma raised a questioning eyebrow. Her breathing went shallow when Emma approached her cheek, nuzzling her hair and licking the shell of her ear.“Do you want me to top you again, baby? Do you want me to pin you down and force you to endure the same treatment you were subjected to last night? Make you come all over my hand and scream my name into your pillow?”Regina’s eyes closed as she was reminded of Emma’s hovering body. Images of Regina’s hips being pinned down, of her wrists being gripped, her nipples being pinched flooded her mind. She remembered how wet she became, how Emma had made her beg, plead to be touched. Regina couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips when she recalled just how well Emma had satisfied her need, a need which had been repressed for so fucking long. Now that she’d had a taste, she needed more. And so she nodded, desperate for Emma to touch her again.“I want that too, Regina. I want to take you. I want to top you. I want to give you exactly what you need, what you crave. I didn’t know you wanted this, didn’t know you liked it, but now that I know you do, fuck I want it so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, but I didn’t think you would too. I want you to come for me as hard as you did last night. I want to rip each and every orgasm from your pretty, little body.”Emma pulled away just enough to look at Regina. The brunette was panting, her eyes dark with lust, her body trembling with desire. And God damn if Emma didn’t want to fuck her right here, right now. But she couldn’t. Regina might want this, but they needed to talk first, and so Emma let go of her wrists and ignored Regina’s confused expression.“I want those things, baby. But I’m not going to touch you again until we have that talk. You want me to do things to you that I want you to enjoy, but I can’t ensure your pleasure, your safety, unless we have that discussion. Until then,” Emma paused, pulling away (although incredibly regretfully), “we can’t do this. I love you too much not to make sure we have a serious discussion about this first. When we finally have that talk though, I promise you I’ll give you everything you ask for.”Emma pulled away, laying down on her side of the bed and leaving Regina with her thoughts. Regina lay there, stunned. Her body grew cold now that Emma’s was no longer pressed against her, and she suddenly grew angry as Emma’s words washed over her. She was irritated. Embarrassed. Frustrated. She never let anyone do to her what she’d allowed Emma to do last night. She never, ever gave control to anyone else. She was the one in charge and now she was allowing Emma the opportunity to touch her in a way that she never allowed any others, and Emma had said no?Furious, Regina ripped the blanket off of her body, grabbing her pillow and storming from the room. If Emma didn’t want her, then she sure as hell wasn’t going to stay in the same room as the woman who had rejected her. Regina went to the spare room, wishing desperately that she could slam the door. If Henry hadn’t been home, she would have slammed it hard enough to shake the whole damn house.Regina curled up in the bed, seething with anger. How dare Emma reject her? How dare she deny her? Emma had said she’d wanted it too. So why hadn’t she just given in? Why did they need to talk? Regina raged and fumed in bed for hours, until slowly her anger dissipated and left her with how she truly felt : rejected, humiliated, and vulnerable. She'd never asked for this thing. She'd never let herself acknowledge that this weakness composed a very real and very intricate part of her person, for her mother had instilled within her from a very young age that power was everything and that you never gave power over yourself to another. And so Regina had never let herself ask for this need within her. She'd buried it and ignored it and refused to admit it was there, fighting against it even as it grew and pushed back against her. There were days, nights, where she felt consumed with the need to be taken by Emma. And last night she’d lost the battle with her tightly wound control and let Emma take her as she’d desperately wanted Emma to do for months. And it had been so good. So, so good. And so right. Emma had been perfect. And Regina had needed that again, had allowed her perfect control to slip for just this moment, safe in their bed, and she was ready and willing to let Emma dominate her. But instead, she’d been rejected. She'd been refused.Regina tried to fight her tears, but she was just too hurt. She had spent years fighting this desire, denying her wants and needs and tonight, only for the second time, she had allowed Emma to see it, to peek into that secret part of herself. But Emma had rejected her. And so Regina wept. She wept and she cried and she raged, the entire time wishing that Emma were there to comfort her.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Make your own dinner, Emma Swan, as I am neither your mother nor your maid.”Emma took a deep breath. Four days. It had been four days that Regina had been biting her head off, and Emma was about ready to snap. Ever since the night Emma had refused to touch Regina until they talked, the brunette had been treating her like shit, to put it bluntly. She barely acknowledged Emma’s existence, had been sleeping in the spare room, and had even refused to even be in the same room as her. Henry was starting to notice, although both women worked hard to pretend that everything was normal when he was around. He wasn’t stupid though, and this morning he had told Emma to fix the problem because he was tired of living in a war zone. He had gone to his grandparents’ home for the weekend, leaving Emma to try and work things out with his other mother. However, Regina was being unbelievably hostile, and when Emma had asked her if she wanted to have dinner together, Regina had responded as though Emma was demanding she slave over the stove for her.“I didn’t ask you to make supper for me, Regina,” Emma responded, forcing herself to remain calm. “I asked if you wanted to have dinner together.”“No.”Emma sighed, irritated.“We need to talk.”“We most certainly do not,” Regina responded curtly, not looking up from her laptop screen. “I have work to do. You may go do whatever it is that you do.”When Regina waved her hand dismissively, Emma fumed. That was not acceptable. Regina may not be happy with her and that was fine, but Emma wasn’t about to let her disrespect her, waving her off like she was a servant.Emma took two long strides forward and pushed the lid of the laptop shut, Regina jumping back in surprise.“Emma Swan!”“Listen. I’ve given you space. I’ve given you time. I’ve even endured your awful, rude and frankly downright bitchy comments. But enough is enough. You’re not happy with me and that’s fine, but you need to communicate with me. I’m trying to be patient with you but you waving your hand off at me like I’m one of your damn maids is not okay. I’ve never disrespected you like that and I won’t let you disrespect me like that either. I love you, Regina, and I want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you. It’s been four days. At some point, this has to stop.”“We’ve nothing to discuss, Emma,” Regina snapped, jerking up the lid from her laptop and powering it back on. “Leave me alone.”“We have a lot to discuss!”Regina ignored her, refusing to acknowledge her presence. Emma stood there, fuming. She could storm off like she wanted to. She could give into her anger and leave this house and let this argument continue for God knows how long. Had she been just a few years younger, she probably would have done just that. But Emma was getting too old for games and she cared more about their relationship than she did about her pride, so she swallowed her hurt, her frustration, and her anger, and she moved around Regina’s desk until she was standing next to her. Then, Emma knelt down so that she was looking up at Regina, a position which would be less threatening to her lover. She gently rested her hand on the arm of Regina’s office chair, a move that would bring her closer to the brunette without actually producing unwanted any contact.“I’m sorry for yelling,” Emma said gently, her tone low and even. “But I’m hurt, and I’m frustrated. I really am trying to be patient with you, Regina. I want to know what’s bothering you. I’ve been trying to pull information from you all week, but you’ve been ignoring me or just outright hurting me and my feelings on purpose. I haven’t done anything shitty back because I don’t want this to turn toxic, but this has to stop.“I did upset you on Monday night, and I think I might have hurt you too, but that wasn’t my intention. I meant what I said about wanting to explore those things with you, but we can’t until we have a talk. I need to know what you want from me. I need to know what you want from those… from any scenes we might have together. I have to know your limits and your desires. I can’t just blindly head into it because that could end up hurting you and I will never take that risk, Regina. Never. I’d rather say no to you a hundred times and have you hate me and treat me like shit than to ever hurt you or make you feel scared or unsafe. And if we don’t have that talk, that’s exactly what would happen. I’d hurt you without meaning to and I won’t do that. So please, can we just… Can we just talk?”Emma waited. But she when she received no response, she sighed, getting up from her kneeling position. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be waiting, okay? I love you.”Regina hadn’t acknowledge anything she had said, but she hadn’t pulled away, she hadn’t lashed out, and she hadn’t touched her computer- even when the screen had turned back on. She simply sat there, and while Emma felt hurt and disappointed that Regina hadn’t responded, she was glad that Regina had at least listened to her.Emma walked out of the office and headed to the living room, waiting. She waited until nearly eleven o’clock, finally resigning herself to the fact that Regina was not going to speak to her. She turned off the tv with a sigh, discreetly wiping away at the tears that escaped. She had really hoped her plea would strike a chord in Regina and that the woman would seek her out. Emma had no idea what she would do now, and as she headed upstairs, she worried for their relationship. She had no idea how they could possibly continue if they didn’t acknowledge this problem. She knew she couldn’t pretend like it hadn’t happened, but she didn’t want to lose Regina either. She loved her more than anything, which was why she could never head down the road of domination and submission if Regina refused to ever have a talk about it.Emma curled up in bed, clutching a pillow that now only faintly smelled of her lover and drifted off into a fitful sleep. She awoke the next morning when she felt the bed dip by her side, a smile automatically forming on her lips when she noticed exactly who was sitting there.“Morning, sunshine,” Emma said groggily.She wiped the sleep from her eyes, frowning a little when she saw just how tired Regina looked. The woman held a wad of papers in her hand and she handed them over to Emma.“Take these and read them.”Emma’s heart hammered in her throat at Regina’s serious tone. Oh God.“These aren’t divorce papers, are they?”For the first time in a week, Regina gave her her signature smirk and rolled her eyes.“We aren’t married, Emma. Therefore, they cannot be divorce papers.”Emma eyed them warily.“What are they?”“Please just take them,” Regina said softly. “And read them.”Emma carefully took the pages, glancing up when Regina stood.“Wait. You aren’t staying?”“No. I trust you’ll find me after you’ve finished reading.”Emma frowned, looking down at the white sheets of paper when she was alone. They were covered in Regina’s familiar looped and swirly handwriting. But unlike the Mayor’s usual pristine paperwork, these pages were crinkled and bent, and Emma could see parts of writing that were scribbled over and blacked out.Emma sat up in bed, propping herself against the pillows as she prepared to read what was obviously a very important letter.
Emma,
I’ve no idea how to even begin this letter. I feel incredibly guilty for the way I’ve treated you this week. I must apologise in advance for the way my thoughts will surely jump from one thought to another. My mind is in terrible disarray and my heart aches and so it is difficult to express myself properly. You communicated beautifully with me this evening, while I sat in silence. We both know I’m terribly ill equipped to express my thoughts and my feelings, and for that I’m sorry. You suffer for my shortcomings. I have been punishing you because I have been unable to sort through my feelings effectively communicate my feelings. I’m sorry.
This…
I’ve carried this secret for far longer than anyone should. I’ve had no one with whom I could share this desire of mine, one which I have had for as long as I can remember, far before I even knew what it was, before I ever had a name for it. My mother was quite specific as to what was important in life: power. It has been revered by her for as long as I have known her. And longer. I grew up being told that to have power over another was to have everything. She wanted me to be queen so that I would have power over an entire kingdom. I did not share this same desire. I wanted a simple life. I never craved control over another, not the way she told me I should. In fact, I… I desired the opposite. I loved Daniel dearly, and I loved that he directed our future, that he made the decisions which I did not feel comfortable making. I simply wanted to be with him, to please him, and I felt that desire I felt safe and comfortable following his direction for he cared deeply for me.
Daniel always made decisions with my best interests at heart. When my mother murde My mother did not approve of the relationship, not only because she deemed him unworthy, but also because she saw the way in which I blindly followed his lead. She wanted me to lead, to have power, to have control over others, the way she did. I did not share this desire. I wanted a simple life with Daniel. However, she felt he was holding me back from my true potential, and so she murdered him and with him, my secret desires to be led.
I loathed the way my mother controlled my life, the way everyone else controlled my future. I despised the fact that I felt out of control in my own life, and that forced and so his murder sparked a change in me. I rebelled against my desires to submit, and I did so aggressively. I have controlled everyone and everything in my life since Daniel, because there is safety in control. I have ruled over countless people. Their future, their fate was at my mercy. I was no longer helpless, and I never acknowledged that inner part of myself, that secret place which craved to submit. I hated it, loathed it, cast it away and banished it within the deepest parts of myself. But you, Emma Swan… you. You have brought it back to the surface. You’ve awakened that weakness within me, that needy part of myself which cries out for you, which needs your strength and your safety. Which craves to follow your guidance, which craves your approval. To speak of that part of myself would be to acknowledge it, to acknowledge that there is a part of myself which is not strength and confidence, which is weak and needy and insecure. That is why I did not speak to you, did not respond when you spoke to me. I do not know how to I’m frightened and I’m terribly confused. And I do not
You treat me with such respect, Emma. And the people of this town, they believe I am a ruler, I am a leader. How will I be viewed when my secret is revealed? I may no longer be feared, but at least I am respected. How can I be respected if I submit to another in such a way? What will you think of me when you learn the things for which I long? If I admit my desires, for they are… I’m embarrassed. And your rejection the other night… I felt humiliated. I understand that you felt it was in my best interest to refuse me, and part of me does agree, understands, however, it still hurts and I feel utterly humiliated and I regret ever exposing this part of myself. I should have silenced it as I have in the past. I don’t I’m unsure
Expressing myself is becoming difficult. I’m sorry for hurting you, Emma. I love you, dearly. And I’m sufficiently embarrassed now and I’ve no idea how I will ever look you in the eye again.
The letter ended there. Emma took a deep breath, looking it over a second and a third time before slipping out of bed. She wanted to go to Regina immediately, but she needed time to think, to process. So, she took a long shower, dressed slowly, and read the letter one last time before she took it in hand and sought Regina out.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Regina looked up from her novel when she felt Emma enter the room, their eyes meeting briefly before she looked away. She noticed the white, crinkled paper clutched tightly in Emma’s hand, and her cheeks burned with the knowledge that Emma was now all too aware of one of her deepest secrets. Regina was still embarrassed, and she didn’t want to have this discussion, no matter how much she knew they needed to. Even if she and Emma chose not to incorporate power play into their intimate relationship, they still needed to have this talk and to settle things between them. Knowing they needed to talk did not do anything to lessen the dread she felt, however. Emma, noticing Regina’s tight expression, immediately walked up to her lover and sat down next to her on the couch. She removed the pillow from Regina’s lap and set her book down on the coffee table before pulling the woman into a long, tight hug. She poured everything she had into the embrace, wanting Regina to feel nothing but comfort and safety. Regina was stiff at first, but she melted into Emma’s arms after a few seconds, losing herself in the warmth and security she was offered. Regina inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of her lover, closing her eyes and focusing on the soothing up and down motion of Emma’s gentle hand against her back.“I love you,” Emma breathed against her temple. “Thank you for writing this letter.”Regina, unsure of how to respond, simply nodded against Emma’s strong shoulder. Emma pulled away slowly, reaching up to cup her cheek. When Regina looked away, Emma tilted her chin so that their eyes met.“Don’t do that, baby. I’m sorry for making you feel hurt and rejected. That’s not at all what I wanted. Never. And I know you’re embarrassed, but please don’t be, okay? It’s just me, and I’m never gonna judge you. I want what you want, remember?”“I’ve never before spoken of this,” Regina confessed after a moment. “It’s terribly difficult and uncomfortable. I feel utterly exposed.”Emma, hearing the vulnerability in Regina’s voice, cupped her cheek and kissed her softly on the lips. She stroked her thumb again the smooth, olive skin of Regina’s jaw, pulling away after a moment to look her in the eyes.“I know. And I’m sorry it’s so hard for you, but I promise it’s going to be okay. You’ve done the hardest part, right? You said it out loud. You finally faced it. And it’s gonna be hard to go into details, to share more about what you want, but you’ve taken the first step. And trust me when I say that I really do want this with you, Regina. I don’t want it to be hard for you, even though I know it will be, but I want you to know I’m going to be here every step of the way and I’m going to do everything I can do make it easier on you. I’m not gonna use any of this information against you, okay? I’m not going to use it to hurt you or to humiliate you. I’m going to use it to give you what you want, what you need, and to keep you safe. Okay?”“Thank you.”Emma waited, hoping Regina would speak some more, but when she was met with silence, Emma opened the letter and flipped to one of the spots she’d wanted to discuss.“Is it okay if we talk about it? Or do you need a minute?”“No. We… it would be best if we discussed the letter now.”Regina knew that if they waited, she would retreat into herself and would not speak of this again. It was best to get it all out on the table sooner rather than later.“Okay.” Emma reached out and squeezed Regina’s hand before turning back to the letter. “I didn’t know- I had no idea you felt that way about Daniel. That he… did you and he do what we did?”“In part, but to a much lesser degree.”“Will you tell me about it?”Regina swallowed, tucking her hair behind her ear nervously. She looked down at her knees, rubbing her hand against the material of her jeans as she spoke.“When I was young, I was timid, unsure of myself. I overthought everything and I was an incredibly anxious child. I preferred not to make decisions as I continuously questioned whether or not I was making the correct choice and would agonise for days when I was forced to decide something as simple as what colour would be most suitable for my ball gown. Mother did not help my fears and anxieties. In fact, she is likely the cause for them. She would criticise me relentlessly and reprimand me regularly for making, what she felt, was the wrong choice. It seemed I could never choose correctly; therefore, I became almost unable to form my own opinion. It was agony and induced great stress when I had to select something for myself.“I felt safe, as well as incredible relief, when I was with someone in whom I could trust to make decisions for me. And Daniel… he was so kind, and gentle, and thoughtful. It was easy to feel secure with him, as I knew he would always select the choice that was most beneficial to us, to me. He continually put my needs before his own, and every time that he did, my trust in him grew. And as time passed, I grew to depend on him more and more, until it was entirely natural for me to follow his lead unquestioningly. He led and I followed, always. In nearly all aspects of our relationship. I was glad to. He read me so perfectly that it was easy to allow him to make decisions that affected both of us, especially when it came to our physical relationship.”When Regina flushed, looking away, Emma reached out and gently grasped her chin. She turned her lover’s head gently, waiting until Regina finally met her eyes.“Please don’t be embarrassed.”“I can’t help it.”“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”“I feel as though I do.”“Why?”“Because I am not supposed to be this way, Emma! I am not supposed show this weakness. I never meant for this to happen. I never meant for you to know…“This town, the people within it, you, Henry… you all believe I am strong and confident and that I demand power and control. You believe I enjoy being in charge, that I would never wish to cede power to another. If you knew what I truly- if you only knew. You’d look at me as though I were incredibly weak. Or perhaps even silly. How could you take me seriously ever again?”“Submitting to someone has nothing to do with weakness, Regina. It has everything to do with trust. You submit to someone you trust, to someone you know won’t hurt you. It’s not because you’re weak.”Emma took a deep breath, looking into Regina’s eyes and imploring her to believe her.“When I look at you, I see a beautiful, confident, extraordinarily strong woman who trusts me enough to allow herself to be vulnerable, to lower her walls and hand over her carefully maintained control. Do you know how humbling that is? Not to mention erotic.“I’m not looking at you any differently than I ever did before, Regina. Well, not in a bad way anyway. I look at you a little differently now because you’re admitting to wanting to do things that I never dreamed would ever be possible with you. Things that I’d really, really like to do to you. With you. Looking at you, knowing you want me to take you in a way that I really freaking want, it doesn’t make me think you’re weak. If anything it makes me weak. Right in the knees.”Regina couldn’t help the tugging at the corner of her lips when Emma tossed her a lopsided grin.“That was a poorly executed joke.”“It was a joke, but only sort of. Do you know how hot it is to know you want me to top you, Regina? Do you know how sexy and exciting it is to me to know that you trust me enough to hand over that control? That you, Regina Mills, mayor of Storybrooke, single mother extraordinaire, probably the single, most powerful magic wielder in this town (Emma ignored Regina’s protest of ‘Rumple is far more capable’) wants me to tie her up and fuck her?”Emma shifted, her nipples hardening as they scraped against her bra when she moved. She was forced to swallow hard before continuing her train of thought, trying to ignore the stirring of arousal in her belly. God damn if talking about Regina’s desire to submit didn’t turn her on.“You take control in every situation, we both know that. I know you’ve explained to me before that because of the shit you went through in the past with your mom and with Rumple and with all those shitty people who hurt you, now you feel safe when you have control and you decide what happens. You could only trust yourself to make decisions for you. But now, now you’re telling me that you want to hand over that power over yourself to me. You want me to have control over you. Do you know what that tells me? It tells me you trust me completely, and that is a huge fucking turn on. And it’s also really humbling.“I’ve had these types of relationships in the past. I’ve been more than one person’s Domme. I know you know about it because we’ve talked about it, but I want you to know that I’ve never wanted to top anyone as much as I’ve wanted to top you, Regina. But I never have, never even hinted at it, because I didn’t think you’d want that. I honestly never thought you’d trust me enough because of how badly you’ve been burned in the past. But to know that you do… fuck, Regina.” Emma took a deep breath. There was nothing quite so arousing as knowing that someone trusted you so implicitly that they were willing to cede all control over to you. And for someone like Regina, who trusted no one… It stirred something deep within Emma. “I really, really want it, Regina. I really want to be your Domme.”Regina took a deep breath before nodding.“I do as well.”Emma took a moment to let those words sink in. I do as well. Emma shivered.“Good. That’s why I wanted to have this talk today,” Emma said gently, tucking an errant hair behind Regina’s ear. “So that we can do this safely.”“I know. You were correct to deny me the other day; I understand that now. You were looking out for my best interests, and I thank you for that. It just felt like a rejection at the time and it hurt. It still does, if I’m to be honest.”“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry that it hurts. I never want to hurt you. I was just trying to look out for you by stopping something that could have quickly and easily turned really scary for you.”“I know.”And Regina did. Emma took care of her in ways that no one else had. She did incredibly thoughtful things, things that reminded Regina that Emma was always looking out for her. Like in the winter, Emma would brush off Regina’s car in the morning before leaving for work. She would hold her hand against Regina’s belly before they crossed an intersection, checking both ways before then sliding her hand to Regina’s lower back and guiding her across the street. When Regina had a headache, Emma would insist she take a painkiller, drink more water, and lay down on the couch while she made dinner. She brought Regina lunch, often, because the mayor would simply forget to eat as she powered through meeting after meeting, attended functions, or lost herself in budget proposals. Emma would even, at times, (gently) physically remove Regina from her desk when the woman refused to leave- despite the fact that she'd have been at work for over twelve hours. Regina would get irritated in those moments, but Emma pushed back, refusing to back down because she was looking out for her. And ultimately, Regina would cave and accede that Emma was right, that she was sore and hungry and needed to get away for the evening. Emma was constantly taking care of her, and it was for that reason that Regina felt so safe with her, so comfortable.“I am never going to reject you, Regina. I promise you that. That night, if we would have played the way you wanted to, it would have broken one of my rules. And that is unacceptable,” Emma said seriously. “I have many rules, and they’re all in place to keep you safe. I will not allow us to break any of them, Regina, no matter how much you might want me to. Your safety is my number one priority. Nothing will ever take precedence over it.”When Regina nodded her understanding but didn’t say anything more, Emma took the opportunity to continue her train of thought.“My rules are there to make sure you’re safe, that you’re protected, and that your needs and wants are met. They’re also there in order to ensure your boundaries are respected. I will never cross a line that you draw, Regina, and if you ask for something that I don’t feel you’re ready for, or that I think would hurt you, I’m gonna deny your request, just like I did Monday night. You asked me to do something that could have hurt you, and that is something that I’m never gonna allow. Every choice I make is about you, and that was an example of me choosing your safety over your want.”Regina nodded again, squeezing Emma’s hand in thanks.“I have some questions, but first I want you to tell me if you feel safe enough with me now to be open and honest.”Regina nodded.“I do.”“If there’s one thing I will always demand of you, Regina, it’s that you’re honest. This relationship won’t work if you aren’t, and I definitely can’t have you submitting to me if you’re not always telling me the truth. If I ever find out that you’re lying or that you lied about something, I’m going to stop. I’ll never punish you for being honest, but I will punish you if you lie to me.”“I understand.”“Good.”Emma reached forward and cupped Regina’s cheek, kissing her softly on the lips before pulling back and smiling at her. When Regina smiled back, Emma decided to finally proceed with her questions.“So, you’ve wanted this from the beginning?”“Not entirely, no. Only as our relationship began to grow and I grew to trust you did these feelings make themselves known. And when I learned that you had participated in this type of relationship with others, when you told me that you had dominated lovers in your past, well,” Regina paused, blushing, “of course my desires surfaced.”Emma smiled at Regina’s reddened cheeks. It was adorable to see the woman blush, and, if Emma were honest, a real turn on too. She liked shy Regina, but unfortunately she only very rarely made an appearance in their relationship. Only when Regina felt especially safe did she allow herself to show such vulnerability, so these hidden moments were only shown when they were alone. And even then, they were rare.“Will you tell me a little about your desires?” Emma finally asked.Regina chewed her bottom lip as she contemplated her response. She pulled away, putting a little space between them in order to think. She took a moment of silence to work up her courage, playing with the creases on her pants before finally speaking.“I enjoy being restrained. When you had my wrists pressed against the mattress and I couldn’t move them, I enjoyed that very much.” Regina’s voice wavered at first, but her confidence grew as Emma nodded in encouragement. “I liked when you told me what you were going to do to me. It, um, it created anticipation and that was pleasurable. I liked it when you made demands of me- when you ordered that I tell you what I wanted, that I express to you how good it felt as you touched me. I also relished the fact that you did not allow me to remain silent when you asked a question, that you commanded that I answer you. I also liked that you punished me when I didn’t do as you asked. And I… I enjoyed your praise. Very much.”She enjoys praise? And being restrained and punished? Fuck. Emma’s panties just got much, much wetter than they already were. Her stomach clenched tightly as the possibilities of future scenarios popped up in her mind. There were endless scenes she would love to play out with Regina, but for now, she needed to get as much information as she could. The more details she had, the better she could plan out scenes that Regina would be sure to enjoy.“Thank you for answering. I liked that you gave specific examples. Can you give me more examples of things you liked or tell me some things that you’d like me to do in the future, that maybe I haven’t done?”“Yes. I… I like when you praise me, as I stated. I enjoy when you slap my thighs or my backside,” Regina’s cheeks burned as she began confessing deeper secrets. “I would like you to tie me to the bed. I would like to be spread for you and for you to… to not allow me to hide from you.” She looked down, rubbing her palms against her thighs. “This is very embarrassing.”“You’re doing well, Regina. Please continue.”Regina felt her insides swell when Emma encouraged her, squeezing back when Emma grabbed her hand. With renewed determination, she continued.“I have fantasies… that you ‘force’ me to endure things that I say I dislike but clearly enjoy. Or that you force me to obey rules you know I cannot or that are impossible to obey, so that you’ve then no choice but to punish me.”Emma’s heart was beating a mile a minute. Fuck, this woman was fucking perfect. Emma was secretly somewhat of a sadist. She loved making demands of her subs that she knew they couldn’t obey so that she’d get to punish them later for their disobedience. One of Emma’s favourite fantasies was one that involved bending Regina over and spanking her for being a bad girl. To hear now that Regina was into the same thing… fuck.“Such as?” Emma forced her voice to remain even, but she was beyond horny listening to Regina describe her desires. She could tell the woman was nervous and embarrassed, and damn if that didn’t also secretly appeal to Emma’s sadistic side. She wanted to keep her talking, wanted to continue watching Regina nervously lick her bottom lip and follow the blush as it crept from the woman’s cheeks, down her throat, and spread over her chest. Emma stroked her thumb along Regina’s fingers to support her as she spoke, wanting her to feel her support and encouragement as Regina opened up to her.“Perhaps… you tie me to the bed and force me to pleasure you with my tongue, having informed me I am to remain still and not become aroused as you ride my mouth and touch my body. It would be impossible, of course, and when your hand moves between my legs, you discover that I’m unbearably wet. This, inevitably, would result in a punishment.”“Describe the punishment.”Regina licked her lips as she worked to calm her racing heart. It pounded heavily in her chest as she did as Emma instructed.“Verbal reprimand. Or you’ll flog me, refuse to allow me to climax until the following day.” Regina chewed her bottom lip nervously. There was more to the fantasy, but she couldn’t help the unbelievable embarrassment gripping her belly, stealing her ability to speak.Emma, noticing the Mayor’s desire to continue (she could see Regina opening her mouth slightly, the way she swallowed when she closed it), reached out with her free hand and gripped her knee.“You’re thinking something you’d like to share.”Regina nodded slowly.“Why are you having trouble?”“I’m feeling incredibly self-conscious.”“No one can hear you besides me, and we’ve already established that I will never judge you. I’m here to learn as much as I can about your fantasies, not to make you feel ashamed. If there’s something I can do to make you feel safer or if you need reassurance, I can do that. Do you need me to reassure you or make you feel safer?”“No. I feel safe, just slightly embarrassed.”“Do you need to stop?”“No.”“Would you like to stop?”“No,” Regina said softly.And she really didn’t. She liked telling Emma about her desires, and she liked the way Emma’s attention was focused solely on her. She could feel the intensity of Emma’s gaze as it burned into her as she spoke. She could feel the intensity with which Emma was looking at her, listening to her, and Regina liked that Emma was watching her so closely. She liked that she currently wielded every ounce of Emma’s attention. Part of Regina also secretly liked that Emma was insisting she open up about something that embarrassed her so thoroughly.“Then you will tell me what’s on your mind now, please.”Regina swallowed, working up her courage to finally voice the one thing she had never before said aloud.“Don’t be mistaken. It was phrased kindly, but you don’t have a choice, Regina. You will tell me.”Regina looked away, digging her nails into her palm.“I like to be called names,” Regina whispered. “Certain names, after becoming aroused, wet, when I shouldn’t have. For enjoying things I was told not to enjoy. I like to be punished for being a- a-”“Slut?”“Yes.”Regina looked at the floor, cheeks flushed, her heart pounding as she finally admitted the truth. She felt utterly exposed, unable to look anywhere but at her feet. When she felt Emma’s hand tug on her wrist, asking her to turn to face her, Regina couldn’t do it. She was overcome with a wave of shyness.“Look at me, Regina. Right now.”The steely voice cut through Regina and caused her to react instinctively. There was no room for argument in that tone, and she turned instantly. When she met Emma’s gaze, Regina’s stomach clenched at the obvious desire in the other woman’s eyes. Emma’s pupils were dilated, blown black with arousal, and she was clearly trying to regulate her breathing. She was almost panting though, and the knowledge that Emma was aroused tugged deep at Regina’s belly. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”Regina reddened further, chuckling slightly under Emma’s insistent tone. They sat quietly for a moment before Regina’s suddenly spoke up again, admitting another of her desires.“I have often thought about being… used. By you.”“Oh? Can you continue that thought for me?”“I,” Regina paused, taking a deep breath for courage, “I often fantasize about you using my body for your pleasure, all the while you are telling me that I’m yours to use as you see fit. That I’m present only for your pleasure. I quite enjoy the idea that you- that you objectify me, that you tell me that you’re not being interested in my wants or my pleasure. Perhaps you handle me a little roughly, speak to me harshly.”Emma knew for a fact that after they finished this talk, she was going to need a moment alone. She had gotten off more than once on the thought of pinning Regina down, of telling her she was a whore for enjoying the way that Emma used her body. In the fantasies, she often manipulated Regina’s body in a way that she never would have in real life (well, perhaps now she would…), and Regina would encourage her, would beg Emma to use her. In these fantasies, Regina was always dripping for it, leaking like a sieve as she was spread open for Emma and pleading with her to do whatever she wanted with her body.Emma’s mind raced through her vast repertoire of fantasies that involved Regina, but she was suddenly all too aware that she didn’t know what her limits were. Just how roughly could she use Regina? How much was too much? It was vitally important to know what Regina’s boundaries were, so Emma decided to ask her.“Will you tell me some limits? Some boundaries?”“Alright. I don’t wish to feel pain, true pain. I know you can be quite eager when it comes to my breasts,” Regina teased, shaking her head at Emma’s wolfish grin, “but I don’t like true pain, nor would I like you to ever hit me so hard as to leave a deep, painful bruise. I do, however, enjoy seeing the evidence of your forceful grip upon my skin, therefore some light bruising, such as from your fingers, is more than welcome. That is acceptable, and encouraged. I simply do not want to be struck with such force that a mark is left.”Emma nodded. Not that she ever would have done that to begin with, but she wanted to encourage Regina to continue. “I will never want to involve wax or things of that nature. I don’t want to feel truly degraded or humiliated. A little humiliation is something I enjoy. However, I do not want to feel genuinely ashamed. I know I will never want to participate in a threesome or-or an exchange of partners. I will never want to be given to another Dom. I understand that some people participate in exchanging partners. However, I know I will never want to do such a thing.”“Good. I won’t either. I don’t share,” Emma growled, a possessive hand gripping Regina’s thigh. “This body is mine and there is no way in hell I am letting anyone else touch it.” Regina nodded eagerly. She really, really liked the sound of that, of being Emma’s.“Will you tell me some things that please you?” Regina asked, after a moment of quiet.“Definitely. But I’m going to be perfectly clear here: if any of the things I mention are things that scare you, don’t interest you, or that you just don’t want to do, we’re not going to do them, ever. Okay?”“Okay.”“A lot of the things you mentioned are things I like doing: spanking, talking dirty, calling you names, pretending to use your body for my pleasure. I’m going to make it clear now though that it’s a game. I will always make sure that you enjoy what I’m doing. I may be using your body, but in the end, I’m making every decision with your pleasure in mind. Every choice I make will be about you, always.”When Regina nodded in acknowledgement, Emma continued.“I also like giving commands, making you beg, praising you when you behave and punishing you when you don’t. My favourite form of punishment is spanking you with my hand or with a paddle and making you count each hit, or forcing you to do something you don’t really like doing… like staying silent while I touch you or not letting you come. I’ll expect a thank you for every punishment I deliver, but we’ll talk more about that later.“I like you to kneel, call me ‘Ma’am’, and you will respond to every question I ask and you will obey every command I give you, unless it makes you uncomfortable or feel unsafe. Going with that thought, I’ll always expect you to be honest with me, Regina. I know I said it earlier, but it’s important, so I’m saying it again. The only way I can keep you happy, keep you safe, and make sure you enjoy the experience is if you’re completely honest with me.”Regina held Emma’s eye contact, nodding the second she was finished speaking.“I know. I- I understand how important it is to be honest when we are … playing.”“Good. You’re trusting me to take control of your body and I’m trusting you to be honest with me at all times. What happens if you break that trust and you lie to me?”“We stop playing.”“Good girl.” Emma reached out and stroked Regina’s cheek affectionately. “In every healthy Dom/sub relationship, there is a safeword. Do you know what that is?”“Yes.”“What is it?”“It’s a mutually agreed upon word that is used to halt a scene.”“Why would you halt a scene?”“If one of us feels unsafe or does not enjoy something that is occurring.”“Exactly. You can also use it when you need a break or you need to check in. I will always be watching you, doing my best to tune into you and to observe your physical reactions, but that isn’t always enough. I can’t read your mind or know what’s going on up here,” Emma stated with a smile, lightly tapping Regina’s temple. “You might be in distress and I’m not picking up on it, which is why we need a safeword so that you can let me know you’re not okay. Have you thought of one?”“No.”“Then you’re going to think of one for me and you’re going to tell me what it is. Before we ever play, there’s going to be a definite safeword. The other night, I told you to tell me to ‘stop’ or to tell me ‘no’ if you didn’t like something. Now, I’m telling you that I want you to think of a specific word that would never be said between us while we were having a scene. That way, the second you say the word, I know we need to stop. And I will always stop, Regina. Always. I’m going to get off on topping you, yeah, and I’m really looking forward to getting to play out some of your fantasies, but this is all about you. And the second you stop liking it is the second I stop liking it, okay?”Regina nodded, Emma’s grave tone conveying the seriousness of her words.“Alright.”Emma looked at Regina for a long moment, wanting her words to sink in. When she was satisfied that Regina seemed to grasp the importance of her message, she nodded once.“How are you doing?” Emma asked. “Do you need a break?”“No.” Then Regina paused before adding, “Perhaps we could get a glass of water though?”“Of course.”Emma got up, holding out her hand and taking Regina’s in her own. She led the way to the kitchen, gently pressing Regina against the island, indicating that she wanted her to stay put. Regina took the hint, staying in place and smiling softly when Emma pressed her lips against her temple before moving to the cupboard. She watched the blonde as she moved to the fridge, pouring her a tall glass of water and then handing it over. Regina gulped it down gratefully, the liquid cooling her and calming her stomach. While she was incredibly aroused, her stomach was also riddled with knots. It wasn’t that she was worried or scared, but she had never spoken so openly about such a private subject, and she was a touch apprehensive about being so exposed. Emma had made her feel safe though, secure, and for that she was incredibly appreciative. She never would have been able to speak so freely, so easily, without her lover’s calming presence. “Better?”“Yes, thank you.”Emma took the glass back, placing it in the dishwasher. She then made her way over to Regina, wrapping the woman in her arms and nuzzling her throat.“You okay?”“Yes. I am.”“You’re quiet.”“I’m simply processing. I’ve never before admitted these desires to another, and although you’ve made me feel comfortable and safe, I still feel embarrassed and a little unnerved.”“Can I do anything to help?”Regina looked at her, smiling softly.“Simply comforting me as you are is of great help.”“Good,” Emma said, squeezing Regina tight and tickling her neck with her nose. “Emma!” Regina protested through giggles. “Stop!”“Nope.”Emma pinned Regina to the island, lightly tickling her sides as they both laughed. She let up once she had Regina in tears of laughter, kissing the woman’s cheek affectionately. They’d had an incredibly open and honest talk, and she knew it had been difficult for Regina. Regina had been brave though, had pushed herself to expose parts of herself that she’d kept hidden from the world, and Emma felt unbelievably humbled that Regina chose to share those secrets with her. Emma’s heart swelled and she was filled with affection for the woman in her arms, snuggling her close as she poured all the love and tenderness she could in the embrace. She held Regina close as she breathed in her scent, rubbing her back gently and kissing her softly.“I love you,” she murmured against Regina’s throat.“I love you too, darling.”Emma led them back to the couch after several more minutes of hugging, pulling Regina into her arms as they sat. “Will you help me think of a safeword?” Regina suddenly asked.“I will if you can’t think of anything. I’d like you to try on your own though. Your safeword should be something easy for you to remember, which is why you should be the one to come up with it.”“I’ve no idea what word to use.”“There’s no rush.”Regina bit her bottom lip.“But, I had hoped we could… tonight.”“Oh?” Emma asked, eyebrow raised. Her heart thudded in her chest, excited at the prospect of playing so soon with Regina.“Yes.”“Then you had better come up with something or else we won’t be able to.”Regina looked disappointed, and the brunette’s expression tugged at Emma’s heart. She hated seeing her lover in such a state, so she weighed her options. They could play a little now, a simple scene to give Regina a little taste and to perhaps aide her along in her quest to think of a word. Emma had something in mind anyway, a small scene that would serve as a brief introduction to what their future might hold. She considered if it would hurt or frighten Regina, and Emma decided that it wouldn’t, not if she reminded Regina that she could say ‘no’ at any time. For now, ‘stop’ would be her safeword.“Give me the cushion next to you, please.”Regina looked at Emma curiously before doing as she was asked. She watched as Emma dropped it onto the floor between her feet, wondering what in the world she was up to.“Get up and stand in front of me, facing me.”Regina frowned in confusion, but did as she was told. She got up and stood before Emma, who looked up at her with a pleased, but stern expression.“I’d like to try something now. Your safeword for the time being will be ‘stop’. If at any point you don’t like something or you feel uncomfortable, I want you to say ‘stop’. Understood?”“Yes.”“Good. Now, kneel on this pillow.”Emma’s stomach dropped with arousal the second Regina kneeled before her. She looked so good on her knees, cheeks flushed, doing as she was told. Desire pooled low in Emma’s belly as she reached out and stroked her lover’s cheek, smiling at her.“Good girl.”Emma pulled her hand away, regarding Regina seriously.“We’re going to establish a few rules now. Are you ready?”“Yes,” Regina answered breathily.“First rule: I expect you to be honest at all times. If I as you a question, you’ll answer me honestly, even if the answer embarrasses you or you think it will displease me. Is that clear?”“Yes.”“Second rule: You address me as Ma’am any time I ask you a question. If I ask you a question, you answer me yes, Ma’am or no, Ma’am. Understood?”“Yes.” Regina then quickly added ‘Ma’am’ when Emma narrowed her eyes.“Third rule: You will never, ever do anything that makes you feel unsafe, uncomfortable, or uneasy. You will safeword and we will stop immediately. Is that clear?”Regina held Emma’s gaze. Her eyes were sharp, steely, and it was clear that there would be no room for negotiation. Regina swallowed hard before nodding.“It’s clear, Ma’am.”“Good. Do you feel uncomfortable right now?”“No, Ma’am.”“Would you like to stop what we are doing?”“Definitely not. Ma’am.”Emma bit hard on her tongue to concentrate against her racing heart. Fuck, Regina looked good like this. She wanted to grip the back of the woman’s neck and plunge her tongue into her mouth, force it into every nook and cranny until Regina was left as breathless and as horny as Emma was right now.“If that changes, I want you to tell me,” Emma said slowly. “Now, I have something I’d like you to do for me, pet.”“Okay,” Regina responded softly.“I’m going to move to the other end of the room, go to the laptop, and check my emails. You’re going to stay in this position, looking straight ahead at the wall, while you think of a safeword for me. I don’t care what word you choose. It doesn’t matter if it seems simple, or silly, or weird. It can be a word, a place, a name. It can be a verb or just a random statement. But I want you to think something that will be easy for you to remember. Do you understand?”“Yes.”“Yes what?” Emma demanded.“Yes, Ma’am,” Regina immediately corrected, fire burning in her belly at Emma’s displeased look. “Better. If at any time you become uncomfortable or you don’t like this anymore, you’re going to use your safeword and the scene ends. Do you remember your safeword?”“Yes, Ma’am.”“What is it?”“It’s ‘stop’, Ma’am.”“Good.” Emma got up, looking down at Regina when she was finally standing. Fuck. The sight of Regina on her knees was one that Emma had been fantasizing about ever since they’d gotten together. To see her now… Emma definitely needed to get away for a minute to calm her roaring libido.Emma got up, making her way to the desk at the other end of the room. She powered up the laptop, her eyes drifting over to where her lover was still kneeling, staring at the wall before her. Emma’s mind raced as she watched her. Regina was subbing for her. Regina was kneeling for her. Regina was right there, right now, on her knees, thinking of a safeword because she wanted to play. She wanted to sub for Emma.“Fuck,” Emma mouthed behind the laptop screen, typing in the password and waiting for the home screen to appear.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Emma took her time checking her emails, scrolling through Facebook, clicking on her favourite news site and reading (more like just opening and closing windows because she couldn’t concentrate) any articles that seemed interesting. The truth was, her attention was at the other end of the room, where Regina was currently still thinking of a word. Emma genuinely hoped Regina would never actually need to use a safeword, that she’d never feel so distressed that she’d feel the need to end a scene. Emma already knew how to read Regina, had already perfected the art of tuning into the woman who hid her emotions better than anyone Emma had ever met, and she hoped that that ability would serve her well as their relationship took this new turn.Regina’s ability to mask her feelings, to hide, was one of the things that had first drawn Emma to her. Emma liked that Regina was a puzzle, liked that she had to work to figure out what Regina was thinking and feeling. It had taken a time, but she’d slowly grown to read the woman’s subtle physical cues, as well as sense her emotional state. Her special power definitely helped, pinging whenever Regina answered her prying questions falsely. Emma thoroughly enjoyed knowing that she was the only person in Storybrooke who picked up on the Mayor’s vibes, who could see beneath the mask the brunette wore. It was like becoming fluent in a language only she and Regina spoke and Emma loved that they shared this ability to communicate without words.Emma could pick up on things that others couldn’t, subtle changes in her girlfriend’s demeanour that were imperceptible to everyone else. Regina had been taken aback at first that Emma was able to read her so well because she’d spent her life behind walls that no one had been able to see over, under, or through. But the thing was, Emma was an observer and that was why she was able to see things that no one else did. She observed everything, especially her surroundings and the people within it. She had always been an observer, a habit she’d been forced to develop as a child of the system. She'd had to learn to read people, to predict others’ behaviours in order to keep herself safe. And she’d applied the knowledge she learnt from her childhood to Regina, who quickly became her absolutely favourite person to observe, by far, when she moved to Storybrooke. Regina was an expert at hiding, but Emma was even better at seeking. It had been a long time since Emma had met someone who was so difficult to decipher, and she reveled in the challenge Regina presented. With patience and incredible attention, Emma slowly pulled down Regina’s walls, peeling away the woman’s almost impenetrable outer defences. And as she gently removed the fortified barriers brick by brick, Emma found she quite liked the woman hidden behind the ugly displays of aggression. She'd learnt countless things about the other woman, things that Regina had kept secret and hidden away. Things like that Regina actually had a very soft and tender heart, but after years of torture and abuse, she’d hidden away what was once a very loving and caring nature. She'd also learnt that Regina thoroughly enjoyed physical attention (even though she recoiled any time anyone got too close- not trusting them not to hurt her and not wanting to allow herself something she so desperately craved). Emma had noticed other little things, like the fact that Regina tapped her toes inside her shoes when she grew impatient (Emma had noticed this when she saw the subtle movement in the woman’s designer heels). Her lips formed into a thinner line than usual when she was displeased. She grew silent when she was angry or upset and she attacked when she felt threatened. So determined was she to remain stoic before others that Regina would not even allow herself to shiver when she felt cold. Emma had learnt this one evening while out celebrating Archie’s birthday, noticing Regina’s tense posture and the way Regina fought with all her might to repress the way her body shook. Without saying a word, Emma had gotten up and removed her sweater, draping it over Regina’s shoulders and ignoring the look of surprise on the other woman’s face. You can try to conceal the truth, Regina, but I see you, Emma had told her later. The look of unguarded surprise and shock in Regina’s eyes had stirred deep within Emma. That had been at the beginning, when they’d first become friends. And as they moved from friends to lovers, Emma got to see other parts of Regina, learnt new secrets about the woman. Like, when Regina was aroused, the area just above her breasts turned pink, her eye colour deepened dramatically (though you would only notice this if you were close enough to see it), and she swallowed so much it was almost comical, like she was trying to swallow how aroused she was. These minute actions were all hints into Regina’s physical and mental state, and they would not be perceived unless you were paying extra attention to the brunette, something Emma always did. It was for that very reason that their friendship grew into something more, for Regina began to feel safer and more comfortable with the one person in town who could read her, the one person from whom she could not hide. As she grew to trust Emma, she began revealing a side of herself that she’d buried long ago, and when Regina began developing feelings for the blonde, Emma, of course, noticed immediately. She noticed the lingering looks, the ever-growing intimate touches, the way Regina gravitated towards her any time she was around. And Emma, well, Emma had been interested far longer than Regina, so this progression in their relationship was more than welcome.Pulling herself from her thoughts, Emma finally closed the lid of the laptop and got up. Nearly twenty minutes had gone by, and while Regina hadn’t moved or said anything, Emma could see the woman’s subtle signs that she was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Regina’s shoulders had dropped ever so slightly and she was shifting on her knees, a sure sign that she needed to change positions. Emma walked over and resumed her earlier seat, sitting in front of Regina on the couch.“Have you thought of a safeword, baby girl?”Regina bit her lip, her expression giving away her disappointment in herself. She hadn’t been able to. She couldn’t think of anything that seemed to fit, and the longer she knelt there, the more she felt stressed, until she had begun fidgeting, realising that time was going by and Emma was going to be back soon and Regina was no closer to coming up with an adequate word.When Emma tapped the bottom of her chin, Regina looked up, realising she hadn’t yet answered her.“No, Ma’am. I’m sorry. I just- I can’t-”Seeing that Regina was genuinely becoming upset, Emma shushed her softly and stroked her cheek.“Alright, sweetheart.”Emma knew that Regina was easily stressed, and so she took the pressure off of her by holding out her hand.“Join me on the couch,” Emma requested, her voice changing from the clear, crisp tone she had been using during their mini-scene back to the regular gentle one she normally used with Regina.Regina winced as she accepted Emma’s hand and stood, dropping down on the cushion much less gracefully than normal. Her knees were aching and she smiled gratefully when Emma began gently massaging them.“Better?” Emma asked after a moment.“Yes, thank you.”Emma said nothing, simply nodding once to show she had heard. She then tugged Regina into her arms, wrapping her securely in her embrace. She smiled when Regina melted against her, rubbing her back softly as she took a moment to reward her lover for her obedience.“So, you had trouble thinking of a safeword,” Emma said gently.“Yes. I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of anything that felt right.”“If I know you, and we both know that I do, you were overthinking it, weren’t you?”Regina smiled softly.“I may have been.”“You’re lucky your Domme is so smart and witty and…” Emma trailed off, trying to think of another adjective to use, but only “smart” came to mind. She made a face. So much for that. “Never mind. I have an idea. We’ll use the stoplight system for now: red, yellow, and green. Red means we stop, yellow means we slow down, and green means you’re okay and we keep going. If you decide you like that, we’ll stick with that for good. If not, we’ll use it until you can think of a safeword. It’s an effective system, and I think it’ll work well for us.”When Regina remained silent, Emma knew she had something to say. Ironically enough, Regina tended to get quiet when Emma knew she should speak.“What don’t you like?” Emma asked, pulling away enough to look into her eyes.Regina hesitated.“Red,” she finally answered slowly. “It makes me think of Ruby.”“Fair enough. What if we use the Spanish words? Rojo, amarillo, verde.”Regina raised her eyebrows, impressed.“What?” Emma said, feigning offence. “I sometimes paid attention in class. Mrs. Suarez was really hot.”Regina rolled her eyes.“Nowhere near as hot as you though.”“Nice save,” Regina teased.“What do you think? Would that work for you?” Emma asked seriously.“It’s perfect. Thank you.”“I want to go over them again with you though.”Emma shifted, shifting Regina off of her lap and on the couch, facing her.“Rojo means you’re not okay. It means the scene needs to stop immediately. Like I said before, I will always stop when you need me to.” Emma paused, and Regina nodded to indicate she understood. “Amarillo means we need to pause or slow down. I won’t end the scene, but I’m going to take a second to check in with you to see what the problem is so that we can fix it, and if it turns out that we need to stop, we will. And green, well, that means you’re doing great and you want me to continue,” Emma finished, smiling.“I understand. Thank you, Emma,” Regina said sincerely. “You’ve always been incredibly adept at reading me, at making me feel safe and comfortable. I’ve no doubt you will continue to do so. And despite my fears and insecurities, I’m certain that you will ensure that this will be an incredibly pleasurable experience for me.”Emma reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Regina’s ear, smiling affectionately at her.“Always, sweetheart.”Regina smiled back, then hesitated.“Will we… shall we attempt something now or?”“I’d rather spend some time just cuddling with you. We’ll play tonight. Today, I want to hold you and just hang out.”The truth was, Emma knew that this would be an incredibly defining moment in their relationship and it would be a big step for Regina. Emma wanted to spend the day simply holding the other woman so that when they finally did have a scene, Regina will have spent the day drowning in Emma’s affection, reminded that she was safe and loved and secure.“That okay with you?”“Yes, darling,” Regina agreed easily, slipping under Emma’s arm and resting against her shoulder. “That sounds perfect.”Emma licked her bottom lip as she approached Regina, who was currently bound to the bed by her wrists, arms securely fastened to the mattress. Emma had wrapped ties around Regina’s knees, spreading the woman’s thighs as widely as she could, leaving her gloriously exposed. Regina was completely naked, and Emma’s eyes raked over the nude form before her, nipples tightening in her bra as she took in the way Regina was bared to her.“You’ve never looked more God damn beautiful, baby girl.”Regina’s heart raced as she locked eyes with Emma, wanting nothing more than to clench her thighs together, not only because she was embarrassingly exposed to the woman’s fixed gaze, but also to relieve the ache between them. Her clit throbbed with desire, needy for the attention Emma had so far denied it. Regina had been tied up for the better part of an hour, Emma worshipping her body and refusing to let Regina touch her in any capacity. Regina had obeyed her every rule so far, and she’d finally earned the reward that Emma had promised her: Emma would finally remove her own underwear. Regina had been aching to feel Emma’s soft skin against her body, frustrated every time she felt Emma’s undergarments brush against her. She wanted them gone, and after obeying Emma’s every rule, she would finally receive her reward.Regina licked her lips as Emma slowly removed her boyshorts, clamping down on her groan as she saw just how wet her lover was. Emma had forbidden her from speaking, and it was torture when all she wanted to do was moan, and shout, and beg. But, it was such sweet, delicious torture. Regina had gotten wetter faster than she ever had before. Now that she was being controlled, unable to speak the way that she wanted to, she found herself feeling the almost overwhelmed with pleasure and she loved it. She loved the way Emma commanded her, controlled her. It was, thus far, the most erotic experience of her life.Emma glanced up as she unsnapped her bra, a smirk on her lips as she watched the flush on Regina’s chest grow a deeper shade of pink. The woman was all but panting, eyes locked on the one expanse of skin that had yet to be revealed. She knew how badly Regina wanted these last two garments gone, memories of Regina’s impatience during their previous sexual encounters fuelling Emma’s determination to make her wait. Regina always ripped off Emma’s bra and underwear when they had sex, like she was personally offended that these pieces covered what she desired access to most. Emma had purposely kept the articles of clothing on, rubbing them against Regina’s overheated skin every time she moved along her body. She could feel Regina’s impatience grow (and damn if it didn’t stoke the fire in her belly), but still the woman remained obedient.Emma’s underwear had nearly remained glued to her as she finally removed them, making her wince internally as she quite literally peeled the soaked garment from her body. A submissive Regina was the single hottest thing Emma had ever encountered, and she was wet almost to the point that she was embarrassed. Almost.“Do you like what you see, pet?”Regina nodded immediately.“You’ve behaved so well for me this evening. You want to feel me against you, don’t you?”Regina bit her lip and nodded again.“You’ll have to earn that privilege.”Regina bit back a groan, but she was more than willing to do whatever Emma demanded of her. Emma crawled onto the bed, settling on her knees between Regina spread thighs.“Look how wet you are,” Emma commented, leaning forward to stroke her fingers along Regina’s sopping folds. She pulled her fingers away the second Regina’s hips bucked, chuckling softly. “You’re so swollen for me, baby girl.”Emma raised her eyes, looking up at Regina, who was now fighting to regulate her breathing. She was nearly shaking with pleasure, and Emma’s clit clenched at the sight. All of this, everything Regina was feeling, the way she was reacting, it was because of what Emma was doing to her. The rush of power, the eroticism of having Regina so completely at her mercy inflamed Emma’s arousal and fuelled that need within her to Dominate her submissive, who currently lay before her so open and vulnerable. The view of Regina so bare and vulnerable caused Emma to growl with want. She was horny as hell, and she wanted nothing more than to flip Regina over and fuck her mercilessly, but she was nowhere near ready to give into this need. She was enjoying wielding control of Regina’s body far too much. She was liking controlling her pleasure too much to give it up just yet. Deciding to torture her willing victim a little more, Emma leaned forward and settled on her stomach, mouth mere inches from Regina’s wetness.“You are not allowed to come,” Emma said sharply before diving face first in the delicious looking cunt before her.Emma heard Regina’s near-silent gasp, half of her wanting to reprimand the woman for not remaining completely quiet while the other side just didn’t fucking care now that her mouth was lapping between Regina’s legs. Ultimately, Emma decided to let that infraction pass because she was way too preoccupied with the soaked folds in her mouth. Stopping now would be punishing herself, and she sure as well wasn’t going to do that.Emma moaned loudly against Regina’s heated flesh, her tongue seeking out every corner of the swollen pussy. She lapped, licked, sucked, and teased every inch of the woman’s cunt until no place remained untouched. Emma then moved down to Regina’s leaking entrance, diving her tongue inside, hands coming up to rest upon the brunette’s shaking thighs. Emma then pinned them down with her palms, mouth languidly moving up as she her hold on Regina’s thighs increased. She pressed her fingers into the quivering muscles, gripping them tightly as she gave one long lick of her flattened tongue between Regina’s intimate lips. Harsh pants came from above, and Emma knew Regina was fighting desperately not to make a sound, not to come. The knowledge that the woman was on edge and was literally having to force herself not to orgasm made Emma grind her hips against the mattress in order to feel some kind of relief from the pounding ache in her own throbbing clit.Taking pity on the poor, trembling woman, Emma lightened her attention and brought her lips back down to Regina’s entrance, where she knew her touch would simply drive the woman wild, not cause an orgasm. She fluttered her tongue against the swollen hole, probing and swiping at it, her taste buds revelling in the woman’s rich flavour. She moaned again for good measure, pulling away and resting her head on Regina’s shaking thigh.“Fuck you taste good, baby. I could lick you all night.”Emma gave one long, final lap between Regina’s legs before slowly working her way up her torso, kissing and sucking along the way. She dragged herself against Regina’s skin, finally rewarding the woman for doing so well by rubbing their heated bodies together. Regina melted against her, breasts thrusting up against her own the second their nipples touched. Emma leaned forward and kissed her heatedly, plunging her tongue in Regina’s mouth and forcing the woman to taste herself.Regina’s eyes closed instantly, a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her body as Emma finally finally lay against her, their tongues coming together and sharing the taste in Emma’s mouth. Regina recognised herself instantly, the wetness between her legs increasing as Emma overwhelmed her already overstimulated senses. Her head swam as an insistent tongue commanded control over her mouth, a warm and firm body pinned her to the mattress, soft breasts rubbed against her own, and calloused hands grabbed and squeezed whatever they wanted. Regina felt well and truly conquered, and she revelled in it completely.Emma pulled away, smirking when she caught Regina’s pout.“Now, now, none of that.” Emma leaned forward and kissed her lover’s plump lips. “You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight. I know how badly you want to come,” Emma said lowly, her fingers working their way between her lover’s thighs. “So wet,” Emma groaned, biting on Regina’s lower lip when the woman let out a silent gasp. She plunged inside of Regina’s body, fingers instantly squeezed by the slick walls. “So tight. Do you want to come?”Regina’s breathing deepened, her eyes rolling in back of her head as she nodded enthusiastically.“Too bad,” Emma growled, removing her fingers. She grinned when Regina looked at her, disappointed. “I’m not done playing with you yet.”Emma snapped her fingers, the ties holding down Regina’s wrists and knees disappearing instantly. She then cracked her hand against Regina’s ass, barking at her to get on her hands and knees. Regina complied instantly (though she moved a little slowly due to the fact that she’d been tied down for so long), and Emma moaned as the brunette’s swollen sex was revealed to her from behind.“I can smell you,” Emma purred, leaning forward and giving a quick lick to the dripping folds before her. She gripped Regina’s hips roughly when they jerked against her touch, smacking her hand harshly against the olive flesh. “Enough!”Regina’s head dropped when she felt her hips being yanked back by calloused fingers, her sex rubbing against Emma’s toned stomach. She couldn’t see what was going to happened, had no idea what Emma would do next, and the anticipation was killing her. She hadn’t meant to pull away from her girlfriend’s tongue, but she was so turned on, her body had reacted automatically.“You do not get to pull away from me,” Emma growled, her voice venomous. “If I want to lick you, you will let me. If I want to touch you, you will spread your legs and you will allow me to do as I please. I will use you and take from you whatever I desire. I will do what I want when I want with this body because it belongs to me. You will lay there and submit like a good little slut. Do I make myself clear?”Emma gripped the back of Regina’s hair, halting the woman’s nod.“Answer me! I want to hear you.”“Yes, Ma’am. I heard you. I’m sorry-”“Oh you will be. You’re not going to tell me how sorry you are. You’re going to show me.”Emma yanked Regina’s legs apart, placing one hand low on the woman’s back when she had her lover in the desired position. Emma then brought the other hand between her own legs, starting the spell she now knew by heart.“I’m going to fuck that hot, little cunt and you’re going to keep those legs spread until I’m finished. First, though, I want to hear you beg me for it.” Emma grabbed the base of her cock and gave one firm tug from root to tip, biting back a groan the second she heard Regina’s breathy pleas.“I’m sorry. Please, Ma’am. I want to feel you inside of me. Let me show you how sorry I am. I promise I will make up for my disobedience. Please, use me.”Emma stroked the tip of her cock along Regina’s cunt, both women moaning at the contact. Emma wanted nothing more than to plunge inside the molten heat, knowing how good it would feel to have her lover’s walls gripping her shaft. Given how wet Regina was, Emma knew she’d slide home without any resistance, no matter how hard she dove inside. However, she wasn’t about to give in that easily.“Use me, Ma’am. Use my cunt for your pleasure. Please let me apologise to you.”Emma couldn’t help jerking against Regina, the woman’s words and gyrating hips sending a pang of pleasure deep within her belly. Wetness seeped from the tip of her cock, hardening even more.“Look at you, begging like a slut, begging me to use you like a dirty, little whore.”Regina squeezed her eyes shut, her head dropping hard against the mattress. Fuck. If Emma didn’t fuck her soon, she wasn’t going to survive. Her walls were clenching and spasming within her, desperate for something to grip onto. Her clit strained between her legs, begging for any kind attention- rough, painful, soft- anything. She needed Emma to take her, and she didn’t care how. She wanted to be filled, to be fucked, to be used. She didn’t care as long as Emma just touched her.“Please, Ma’am. Whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want.”“Whatever I want?” Emma asked, intrigued.“Yes! Yes, Ma'am. Anything. Use me however you wish. Just please, please touch me.”Regina’s desperation tugged at Emma’s already raging libido. She knew she couldn’t resist any longer.“Alright, baby girl,” Emma soothed, rubbing her fingertips along the backs of Regina’s sensitive thighs. “I’ll touch you. But I want to make it abundantly clear,” Emma’s voice lowered dangerously once again, “that you are here for my pleasure. You are not allowed to come. Do you hear me?”“Yes, Ma’am. Yes. I won’t. I wouldn’t. Not without your permission.”“That’s my good, little girl. Give me your left hand,” Emma barked.Regina, panting, shifted until the desired hand was reaching back towards Emma. When she felt two fingers against her palm, it took Regina a second before she remembered Emma’s words: I’m going to place two fingers against your palm to check in silently. Squeeze twice if you’re okay and good to go. Hold on tight and don’t let go if you’re not okay or if you need a minute. Regina instantly (and enthusiastically) squeezed twice firmly.“Please,” Regina whispered, breathing a sigh of relief when Emma squeezed back and placed her hand on the bed.“Okay, pet,” Emma replied, her belly clenched tight with both arousal and excitement.Emma leaned forward, the tip of her cock pressing against Regina’s entrance.“Yes,” Regina hissed, “Please.”“So greedy for it,” Emma taunted, withdrawing for a second before finally pushing the tip inside.Regina whimpered in pleasure, biting hard on her lower lip so as not to demand that Emma give her more. She knew, without a doubt, that that would result in a punishment (which would probably be Emma taking her cock away) and Regina did not want to be punished right now. She wanted Emma to fuck her, and she knew that the only way that that was going to happen was if she remained her good girl. So she breathed deeply, focusing on keeping her hips still, her thighs quaking with the effort to remain motionless and quiet. A groan escaped without her permission as Emma slowly filled her, her mouth dropping when she was filled to the hilt.Emma draped herself over Regina’s back, clenching her eyes shut as she took a second to breathe through the pleasure of feeling Regina’s achingly tight cunt around her cock. The unbearably hot walls were squeezing the life out of her dick, gripping and tugging, spasming over every inch of it and Emma knew that if she didn’t take a second to breathe, things were going to be over before they even started.“Fuck,” she panted against the back of Regina’s neck. “So hot.”Regina grinned. Emma’s mind always went blank for the first few seconds she was inside of her. Regina loved that she had this effect on Emma, and she contracted her inner walls in response.“Don’t do that,” Emma growled, and biting on Regina’s shoulder when the woman giggled.Regina’s heart melted when she felt Emma’s lips break into a smile against her skin. She knew (and looked forward to the fact) that Emma would soon revert back to her role as her Ma’am, but momentary sweetness was welcome. When Emma placed a gentle kissed behind her neck and pulled back, Regina instantly fell back into her role.Emma gripped Regina’s hips, pulling out nearly all the way before yanking her back roughly on her cock once. She held her in place, both women groaning at the sensation of Regina’s tight pussy impaled by Emma’s hardness.“So wet. So fucking tight,” Emma murmured, plunging in once again.“For you, Ma'am,” Regina panted, trembling with need as Emma began a slow but harsh rhythm.“Mine. Fuck. All mine.”Regina nodded in agreement, her hips pushing back to meet Emma’s thrusts.“Yours. Only yours.”The words hit Emma hard, knocking the air from her lungs. Hearing Regina confirm that she belonged to Emma, that she was hers, it nearly made her come. Emma’s hips reacted instantly, her tempo increasing tenfold. Her thrusts became rougher, more aggressive, wanting to own Regina’s cunt. Her head fell back against the delicious feeling of her cock plunging in and out of Regina’s pussy, and Regina’s moans of pleasure further fuelled her on. The bed began knocking against the wall when Emma shifted her stance, leaning further over her lover to fuck her more harshly.“Yes. Yes. Harder. Please, Ma'am.”Emma gritted her teeth as she shoved Regina’s upper body down into the mattress, holding her in place with one hand as she used the other for leverage against the bed. Her hips jogged against Regina’s, never once breaking her tempo.“You like it rough like this, pet?”Regina nodded, though the movement was constricted by Emma’s iron grip on the back of her neck. Her cunt clenched greedily at Emma’s thickness, the dominant stance Emma held over her making her gush between her legs.“Yes, Ma’am,” she panted, moaning when Emma tightened her hold on her neck. “Please.”“Fuck,” Emma breathed, her cock stiffening against Regina’s moans. She wasn’t going to last long.“You want me to come, don’t you?”“Yes, Ma'am,” Regina begged. “Please. I do. Please come inside of me.”“I’m not convinced you deserve it.”Regina whimpered.“Please. Use me. I’ll do anything, Ma’am.” Regina tightened her muscles and thrust back against Emma’s hips. “How can I-” Regina cut off with a gasp when Emma gave a particularly sharp thrust. “How can I convince you, Ma’am?”Emma, her mind swimming as she neared the brink of orgasm, simply growled and moved her hand around to lightly grip Regina’s throat.“I want to hear you beg me for it. Plead for it. Tell me how badly you want it. You stop, and I stop fucking you.”A flood of wetness seeped from between Regina’s legs as she felt Emma’s hand come around to grip at her throat, the woman’s words barked dangerously in her ear. Regina nodded instantly.“Please, Ma’am. Please. Come inside of me,” Regina begged, panted, and pleaded, her fingers digging into the sheets as she felt Emma’s cock harden within her. “Ruin me. Ravage me. Force me to- ah! – to please you.”Regina knew Emma was close, and so she squeezed her muscles as tight as she could, gasping when Emma shifted slightly and began hammering against her G-spot. Regina’s eyes widened in horror as she realised she was going to come as well. She had never before come without her clit being stimulated, and she immediately found herself writhing and twisting in pleasure beneath her lover when Emma moved into the new position.“Ma’am. Oh fuck. Ah! Pl-Please, can I come? I’m going to-”Regina cried out as her orgasm ripped through her without permission, fuelled by Emma’s shout behind her as she too hit her peak. Emma growled and gripped her throat tight, enough to let her know she was in trouble but not enough to cut off her breathing. Emma began a punishing rhythm with her hips, slicing in and out of Regina’s body with her still-hard cock. She bit down on Regina’s shoulder and emptied herself in her lover once again before finally pulling out. After taking a second to catch her breath, Emma released the now bruised flesh from between her teeth and brought her lips to the shell of Regina’s ear.“You are going to regret disobeying me, little girl. You will be punished for your defiance.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
As Regina packed her briefcase for the evening, she wondered (and hoped) that tonight would finally be the night that her punishment ended. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could survive the near non-stop torture she’d been subjected to this past week. She'd been consistently turned on for four days now, Emma teasing and touching her body at every opportunity so that she would remain in a constant state of arousal. Emma was relentless, cornering Regina anywhere she could in order to keep her wet and wanting. And Gods, Regina definitely was. She'd had to change her underwear more times this week than she’d had to in the past month, she was sure of it. And if she didn’t get home soon, she’d be punished again.Regina glanced at the clock as she realised she was cutting it close to her 6pm deadline. Emma had made it clear that she was to arrive on time or face the consequences, so Regina snapped her briefcase closed and hurried out the door. She wondered what in store for tonight. Part of her looked forward to the delicious torture, while the other part of her prayed that this would be the night Emma would finally let her come. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. Being horny all the time was definitely starting to get to her.Regina slipped into her Mercedes, pulling out of the parking lot and heading home. She wasn’t sure what else Emma would do to her, given how much she had already tortured her. The first day had begun with a round of twenty flogs to her behind, Regina forced to count each and every one. She was then made to thank Emma afterwards, heading to work with soaked panties. Emma had called her randomly throughout the day, instructing her to touch herself, bringing her to the brink of orgasm, only to then tell her to cease touching herself and resume her work. That night, Emma had kissed and stroked her until Regina trembled, then declared it was time to sleep. Regina’s thighs had been coated in her arousal, but Emma refused to let her clean up, wanting the wetness to serve as a reminder of her punishment.The second day, Regina had woken up to Emma licking her between her thighs, once again ceasing just as Regina was about to peak. Regina was then forced to go to work without being allowed any kind of release. Emma had dropped by at lunch, bending the brunette over her desk and plunging her fingers into her cunt until Regina begged to come, pulling away seconds before she finished. And that night, Emma had cornered Regina in nearly every room of the house, touching and licking her until Regina’s underwear were ruined completely. Regina had gone to bed almost vibrating, two days of relentless attention causing her body to buzz with need.The third day had brought vibrating underwear, which wouldn’t have been such a problem had Regina not had a meeting all afternoon. Emma was present, of course, taking delight in the way Regina would lose concentration, squirm on the spot, and shudder in her seat as Emma altered the vibrations. Regina had had to excuse herself at one point so close was she to orgasm. After the meeting, Emma had made her kneel on the floor and lick the sheriff until she came, Regina’s walls spasming in jealousy.And yesterday, Gods. Emma had removed Regina’s underwear in the morning, rolling her skirt so that it was unnecessarily short, forcing her to work without undergarments. Regina had been incredibly embarrassed, taking extra care as she moved around the office to hide the fact that she wore no panties. Her feelings of worry did nothing to stop the wetness from seeping from her body though, as she was reminded with every shift against her office chair that she was completely bare beneath her skirt. One false move and everyone would know. The thought had caused shivers of desire to race up her spine, the fear of being caught turning her on completely. Her core pulsed all morning as she anticipated what Emma might do to her, her thoughts coming up with countless scenarios. There was a reason Emma had wanted her panty-less, and Regina eagerly awaited the reason why. She heard nothing from the sheriff until eleven o’clock, when she was informed by her lover that she was to come to the station for lunch. Regina obeyed and joined her soon after, greeting David and Ruby (who had been working there part-time recently) as though nothing were out of the ordinary.Emma had greeted her with a peck on the cheek, making casual conversation with her colleagues as Regina stood there, pretending she was not aching with need. When Emma sent her into her office, telling her she’d meet her in a moment, Regina quickly ducked inside. She rounded Emma’s desk, grabbing a few tissues from her purse and discreetly swiping between her legs. She was uncomfortably wet, and she knew Emma was going to do something to make that situation worse. So she hurriedly cleaned herself up before Emma came in, sighing in relief as she rid herself of some of the evidence of her arousal.Unfortunately, Emma returned just as Regina was tossing the crumpled up tissues into the garbage. It was obvious what she had been doing, and Emma’s expression immediately darkened. After closing the door to her office, Emma growled her displeasure, shoving Regina down into her office chair. She then spent the better part of fifteen minutes reprimanding her pet, who had been forced to explain why she would remove the wetness from between her thighs. It did not belong to her after all; it belonged to Emma. As punishment for that infraction, Emma had dropped to her knees and spent the following hour between Regina’s thighs, licking and sucking until the mayor was begging and pleading for mercy. Regina had tried to keep an impassive expression at first, for Emma’s office was surrounded by windows and she could easily be seen sitting at the blonde’s desk (while Emma was beneath it, hidden from view). However, after twenty minutes of receiving Emma’s relentless attention, Regina’s face had lost its emotionless look. She had then begun apologising which eventually turned to pleading for mercy. Emma refused her apology, backing off only when Regina was so wet that she was trembling, painfully aroused, and seconds away from coming. She'd had to keep her thighs apart and take long, deep breaths in order to bring herself down enough to walk out of the office without drawing suspicion (she’d been lucky- Ruby and David had gone out for lunch, as it turned out, while Emma had taken up residence between her thighs).Regina was not going to make the same mistake tonight though, and as she pulled into the driveway, she shifted her hips, feeling her arousal spill onto her panties. At least she would not get in trouble for not being wet. She knew she was in for it tonight though, given that Emma had been occupied all day and had been unable to pay her a visit at work. She hadn’t been so occupied to not be able to send demands of Regina over text though, demanding anything from Regina pinching her nipples to stroking her clit to burying her fingers in her cunt. Regina turned the car off and headed to the front door, her heart beating wildly in anticipation as she approached the house. She really was eager for tonight, hoping beyond hope for the orgasm she’d thus far been denied.Regina didn’t make it past the entrance before she heard Emma’s voice.“You’re late.”Regina glanced at the clock. It was one minute after six.“Strip,” Emma barked.Regina immediately complied, thanking God she had closed the door before Emma had had the chance to give the command. She removed her clothing, letting them drop in a pile by her feet. She knew she was in for a long night- not only because Emma had been silent after she’d left her office, but also because it was now the weekend. They were alone until Sunday, neither of them working and Henry gone for the weekend on a school camping trip.“Kneel.”Regina dropped to her knees, looking down at the floor as she waited for Emma’s next command.“You seem obedient this evening, pet. What a change from yesterday. I wonder if you’ve remembered your lesson. I want you to take your right hand and swipe your fingers between your legs. I want to see how wet you are for me today.”Regina shivered beneath Emma’s unwavering gaze. Her nipples hardened as she felt Emma’s eyes boring into her, watching her every move. She shifted slightly in order to do as she was told, taking her index and middle finger and pressing them between her legs. She gasped when they passed over her clit, swollen and aching already. She'd begun experiencing an almost Pavlov-like reaction to Emma’s presence this week, her cunt growing wet and her clit hardening whenever the blonde was near.“That’s enough. Show me.”Regina removed her fingers, wet and sticky from the arousal flowing from her body. Emma grinned wickedly, bringing the offered fingers to her mouth and sucking on them. She watched as Regina’s breathing quickened, her chest rising and lowering quickly as Emma licked at her wet digits.“Mmm,” Emma purred, pulling away from Regina’s hand, “so good.”Emma bit her lip as she watched her lover attempt to regulate her breathing, loving the fact that the pink that stained Regina’s chest was slowly crawling up her neck.“I missed you today, pet. It’s too bad I had to spend the day doing CPR training. Unfortunately, the mayor of this town is a hard ass and I wasn’t able to get out if it this time.”Regina fought the curl of her lips, knowing she should not be smiling.“Think that’s funny, do you? Just wait ‘til you see what I have in store for you.” Emma crossed her arms, standing confidently before the kneeling woman. “You’re going to follow my instructions, so listen carefully. When I tell you to, you’re going to get up and go to our bedroom. You will get the flogger and the vibrator I placed on the big dresser and then lay on your stomach on the bed. I want those two items on the bed next to you. You are not to inspect them, play with them, or touch them any more than needed to get them on the mattress next to you. You don’t need to know what they are for. All you need to know is that I’m going to use them on you.“Go.” Emma barked, stomach clenching at the way Regina immediately moved. She would never tire of watching her sub obey her.Regina moved quickly, heading up the stairs and making her way to the dresser Emma had indicated earlier. She grabbed the wooden flogger as well as the tiny vibrator she’d never seen before, forcing her mind to remain blank and to not wonder about it or how her Domme might use it on her. She placed the items on the mattress (which was bare, save for the sheet) and lay on her stomach as instructed. She lay there for what felt like an eternity, knowing that Emma was making her wait in order to torture her. Regina couldn’t pretend to dislike it. The anticipation of what was to come had her stomach clenching tight. She tried not to think about it, but she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t exactly sure what Emma had in mind for that small, purple vibrator, but Regina could venture a guess.“Well done,” Emma said, when she finally decided to join Regina. She made the woman wait in silence for almost twenty minutes, knowing that Regina would be dripping for her (if she weren’t already) by the time Emma finally went upstairs. “I bet you’re wondering what’s in store for you, aren’t you?”“Yes, Ma’am.”Emma made her way to the bed, sitting down on the edge. She stroked her palm along Regina’s ass, loving the way the woman shivered beneath her touch.“You’ll see soon enough.”Emma shifted backwards, until she was closer to the middle of the mattress. She then snapped her fingers and pointed to her lap, Regina obeying immediately and draping herself over it.“Good girl,” Emma said softly, hand rubbing along the soft skin of Regina’s lower back. “Now I want you to part your thighs for me. Just like that, good girl. You will relax for me now.”Regina took a deep breath, her stomach dropping with desire. She knew what that meant: Emma was going to press inside of her. Sure enough, Regina felt the woman’s calloused fingers probing at her entrance, slickening two digits before pressing them inside. Regina groaned happily. She was never as happy as she was when Emma was pressed inside of her. Part of her wished the woman would stay there permanently. Emma seemed to be of the same opinion, for she spent as much time as she could between the mayor’s legs.“So wet for me,” Emma breathed, her blood pumping at the knowledge that Regina was this soaked because of her.“Always for you, Ma’am. Only for you.”Emma rewarded the woman for her words by bumping her clit with her palm, enjoying the way Regina’s inner walls clenched in response.“I’m going to put something inside of you, baby girl, and you’re going to hold it in for me. Is that clear?”“Yes, Ma’am.”Emma reached for the vibrator, turning it on the lowest setting and slicking it up and down Regina’s slit before slowly pressing it inside her lover. She watched the small, purple toy slide easily inside, pushing it in further so that it would be easier for Regina to hold it in. She then cupped Regina’s pussy, stroking it gently.“What colour?” Emma asked, because this was the first time they would be doing this.“Verde, Ma’am.”“You’ll tell me the second that changes.”“Yes, Ma’am. Always.”“Good girl.”Emma grabbed the grabbed the flogger and stroked it between Regina’s legs.“You are going to count for me. Fifteen flogs today, five less than I had originally planned, for obeying me so well this evening. Do you remember why you’re being punished?”“Yes, Ma’am. Because I came without permission last weekend.”“You did. You disobeyed me. Are you allowed to come now?”“Absolutely not, Ma’am.”Emma chuckled, tickled at Regina’s emphatic response. She stroked the flogger up and down Regina’s slit as she looked down at her pet. “Good. You better not.”Emma moved her wrist back, bringing the flogger down against Regina’s backside.“One.”Emma started off softly, slowly working up the amount of force she applied. She watched as Regina became increasingly aroused, shifting in her lap, voicing deepening with desire the higher she counted. Emma smirked, stroking the flogger along Regina’s ass between smacks, loving the way her sub shivered against her.By the time they were at ten, Regina was whimpering with every strike. Her clit throbbed as pressure was placed against it when she was moved forward with the force of each hit, the delicious sensation ripped away seconds later when Regina moved back to her original position.“Oh! Eleven!”Regina cried out again when Emma began flogging her between her legs, the sting of the paddle moving to her clit instead of her ass. It felt so good but the pleasure never lasted more than a second before it was removed.“Thirteen,” Regina mewled, her hips shaking as the flogger was taken away once again.The vibration inside her cunt was driving her mad, and Regina wasn’t convinced she could hold the toy in her body for much longer. She could feel her arousal flowing in abundance from her body, more leaking out of her with every slap, making it harder to hold the silicone vibrator within her body.“Fourteen!” Regina cried out, biting her lip as she tensed her walls to hold the toy inside.She was shaking with the effort to keep it from leaving her body, but if she squeezed too tightly, she was overcome with pleasure from the vibration increasing inside her throbbing sex. If she relaxed, the toy would slide down, following the flow of her wetness, forcing Regina to clench again and feel the pulsating toy more intensely.Regina squeezed her eyes shut and panted, telling herself she only had one more to go. She whimpered when Emma gently rubbed the tip of the flogger against her clit, thighs quivering with pleasure.“One more, pet. You’re doing so well. Think you can handle one more?”“Yes. Yes. One more.”She could do one more. She cried out in surprise at the force of the last strike against her bottom, the sting travelling up her spine.“What are my three basic rules?” Emma snapped.Uh-oh. Regina knew she was in trouble. Emma’s tone and her sudden shift in demeanour instantly put Regina on alert. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d done, her mind still hazy with pleasure, but she knew it was something bad.“Do not make me repeat myself.”“I- The rules are that I am to- that I am to be honest at all times. And I am never to do anything that I don’t wish to do. And I am to-” Regina whimpered, realising what she’d done wrong, “I am to respond with ‘Ma’am’ when you ask me a question.”“I see you know the rules,” Emma tutted, displeased. “You are well aware of what I want from you. And yet you chose to ignore one of my basic demands.”“No. I’m sorry, Ma’am. I simply forgot-”“Enough. You’ve earned yourself five more flogs for that little act of rebellion. It’s high time you learnt who was in charge here, little girl. I am your Ma’am and you will treat me with respect. You’re already being punished for misbehaving earlier this week. And now you’ve just asked for more.”Regina bit her lip as she got ready for five more flogs, the anticipation of where Emma would strike her stirring in her belly. She was already unbearably aroused. If she was struck between her thighs, on her clit, Regina wasn’t convinced she keep from orgasming, which meant she’d been punished some more. And that damn vibrating toy, it ached inside. She clenched, which caused pleasure to shoot up her spine, so she relaxed, but then the toy threatened to leave her body. Regina squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on her breathing as she worked to calm her throbbing body.Emma felt Regina’s stomach tense against her lap, but watching the way she squirmed, the way she was attempting to regulate her breathing told Emma that Regina was simply trying to keep her arousal in check, and not that she was feeling any fear. Taking pity on the trembling woman, Emma took a second to run her free hand over Regina’s body so that she could have a small reprieve from the spanking. Emma moved her hand around to cup and squeeze Regina’s breasts, pinching the hardened nipples roughly and grinning when Regina’s hips automatically jerked.“My girl is so sensitive. I love the way you respond to me.”Emma then stroked the flogger against Regina’s reddened backside, her knuckles brushing against the hot flesh. After another moment had passed, Emma finally spoke.“You will count again, starting from one.”“Yes, Ma’am.”Regina swallowed hard, tensing her walls as Emma lay the first blow to her bottom.“One!” Regina squeaked, shuddering as the toy relentlessly vibrated against her inner walls.Emma waited, torturing her some more before delivering the second blow. Regina was panting, her voice shaking when she announced the second spanking. Regina was nearly sobbing with pleasure, with need, by the time the third strike was laid upon her ass, and she clenched her fingers into tight fists as she told herself to breathe. Two more. She only had two more as long as she didn’t do anything else to displease her Domme. She could do two more. She could.Emma lay the fourth blow, and it landed right between Regina’s legs, striking firmly against her clit, just as Regina knew Emma had intended. Her entire body seized, and her breathing broke, hitching as she attempted to get air into her lungs. She was seconds away from coming. She couldn’t. She couldn’t orgasm again. She'd already been punished for a week now because she’d come without permission. There was no way in hell she could survive another week of this. She had enjoyed the teasing, the punishments more pleasurable than torturous. But now, facing the very real possibility of coming again without permission, of being denied release for another week, of disappointing her Domme by coming when she’d expressly told her not to, it was too much for Regina. She couldn’t.Emma immediately noticed the change in her lover’s disposition, lowering her hand and stroking Regina’s back in comfort.“A-amarillo.”Emma instantly put the flogger down. She had been waiting for that word. She pulled Regina into a sitting position, wincing in sympathy when the woman sucked in a sharp breath. Her bottom had to be incredibly sore from the spanking. Emma guided her into kneeling position, straddling Emma’s lap, keeping pressure off her sore backside. Emma looked into Regina’s eyes, smiling softly at her.“Push the vibrator out, baby,” Emma said gently, her voice soothing.Regina relaxed, the toy easily slipping from her body. Emma quickly turned it off, placing it on the bed next to them before turning back to her lover.“That was getting to be a bit much, wasn’t it?”Regina nodded, biting her lip. She tried to keep her tears at bay, but she’d been so worried. She really, truly did not want to disappoint her Domme again.“It was okay, at first. I-I liked it very much. But I-” Regina gasped softly as she leaned forward and accidentally put pressure on her clit, immediately jerking back into a position which left her engorged sex free from touch. “It was becoming increasingly difficult not to orgasm. I believe I would have come had you continued. I did not wish to disobey you again,” Regina finished softly.“Then you did the right thing in stopping when you did, baby girl. I’m proud of you.”“I feel as though I’ve disappointed you by not completing your punishment,” Regina admitted.Emma immediately shook her head.“No. You did well, pet. Very well. I am very, very pleased with you. You did everything I asked of you and you did the most important thing in our agreement: you made me stop as soon as you felt uncomfortable. I am so proud of you for being honest with me.”Regina blushed heavily.“You did so well this week,” Emma purred, her fingers tracing along Regina’s cheek. “You took your punishments like a very good girl. I am so pleased with you. I’ll let you in on a little secret: tonight was going to be the end of your punishment. I was going to start giving you your reward for your obedience tomorrow, but I think I’d like to give it to you tonight.”Regina shook her head. She didn’t feel she deserved to be rewarded.“I did not earn it. I was unable to complete my punishment-” “I decide whether or not you did. You pushed yourself as hard as you could. Don’t pretend like you weren’t struggling during those last four strikes. I know you were. Why do you think I was waiting so long between each strike? Well, part of it was to torture you, of course, but I was also giving you a minute to recover. That pause gave you the opportunity to speak up if you needed to and it allowed me to watch you, to make sure it wasn’t becoming too much. And when it did, you spoke up. You weren’t complaining or stopping me because you were trying to get out of being disciplined. You stopped me because you needed to.“This entire week, you’ve done everything I’ve asked of you. You’ve accepted every punishment I’ve given. And tonight, needing to stop, that was not an act of defiance. That was not you acting out, and it was not your fault that you needed to stop. I should have stopped at ten, but I pushed for more. I promise you I will not do that again. I’m sorry it even happened at all.”Emma swiped her thumb against Regina’s cheek, guilt flooding her. She was Regina’s Domme. She was supposed to keep her safe. She shouldn’t have pushed the extra five, but she genuinely hadn’t anticipated it become too much for Regina. She seemed fine right up until the end of the fourth strike, which was why Emma had stopped.As well as Emma could read Regina, Regina could read her lover just as easily. She saw the guilt instantly, and she leaned forward (careful not to put any undo pressure on her sex), kissing Emma softly on the lips.“I thoroughly enjoyed my punishments. If we agree, I will accept that I have paid penance for my infraction and you will forgive yourself for requesting more of me, which was not undeserved, I might add. Neither of us realised it would become overwhelming to me, so let us settle this now so that we may return to more pleasurable activities. Surely your cock is ready to discover how I have been throbbing for it this week.” Regina looked Emma deep in the eye. “No more guilt, alright?”Emma nodded, leaning forward and kissing her lips.“Do you want to stop playing now?”“Gods, no. While I look forward to my reward, I know it will not be given to me that easily.” Regina grinned coyly at Emma before sliding from her lap. She moved onto her back, her legs coming to rest on either side of Emma’s body. “I know you will wish to explore my body further before I am finally allowed to come. The way I deserve to after what you’ve put me through this week.”Emma chuckled, following Regina onto the mattress. She hovered above her, eyes dancing with mirth as she looked down upon her lover.“You loved it.”“I did. Now, is this how you envisioned me, Ma’am?” Regina asked, settling herself back into her role as submissive. She may have needed a break, but she was certainly not ready to stop entirely. “I want to please you.”In a moment of boldness, Regina reached out to cup Emma’s sex. Her hand was intercepted however, and Emma brought the cheeky appendage back up by Regina’s head, pressing it down into the mattress.“Do not touch. You were not given permission to do so.”“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Regina responded, though she did not look the least bit apologetic.“Mhmm. I’m sure you are.” Emma grabbed Regina’s other hand and brought it up so that both arms were pinned by the brunette’s head. “Keep your hands here.”Emma shifted to straddle Regina’s waist, grinning when the woman moaned. Emma was wet between her thighs, and she loved Regina’s reaction when her heat pressed against her abdomen. Emma rocked slowly against her belly, breath deepening as delicious pressure was put on her clitoris. Even through two layers, the pleasure was incredibly intense.“If only you could feel how wet I am, pet. It was so hot watching you squirm for me.”Regina moved her hands, and Emma immediately stopped rocking. She glared until Regina moved her hands back, looking sheepish.“Sorry, Ma’am.”“Do I need to bind your wrists again?”Regina bit her lip. She really, really liked when Emma did.“I disobeyed your order, Ma’am. I believe you must.”Emma shook her head, a small smirk on her lips.“It would hardly be a punishment.”She let her magic flow from her fingertips, watching at the white swirls encircled Regina’s wrists and elbows before disappearing from sight. Regina attempted to moved her arms, and Emma grinned when they stayed put.“Much better.” Emma crawled down Regina’s body, licking her lips in anticipation of her next move. “Knees next.” Emma’s magic flowed freely again, wrapping around Regina’s knees and ankles and spreading her wide. Not an inch of skin was left hidden, and Emma’s belly tightened at seeing her lover so vulnerably exposed. “God, you look good like this.”Regina’s breathing increased significantly upon seeing the desire in her lover’s face. She knew how much Emma liked seeing her open to her like this, the illusion that she was defenseless stirring Emma’s libido. Regina would be lying if that thought did not tickle the submissive side of her as well, the embarrassment she felt at Emma seeing just how wet she was making her even hornier than she was before. She liked that Emma saw just how soaked she was, and she also liked the fact that it embarrassed her to be on display the way that she currently was. And the more turned on she became, the more wetness seeped from her core, the more embarrassed she was. It was a wonderfully torturous cycle.“God, look at how swollen you are,” Emma groaned, her index finger coming to swipe through Regina’s engorged folds. “You’re so fucking wet. I have to taste you.”Emma lay down on her stomach, peeking her tongue out to gently trace along Regina’s slit.“Ma’am,” Regina panted, clenching her fists in anticipation of the absolute exquisite pleasure she knew she was going to feel in a moment. “What if I- I don’t know if I will be able to-”“Shh, baby girl. I don’t think you’ll come because I don’t plan on touching your clit enough for you to. But, if you get too close, let me know.”“Okay. Thank you, Ma’am,” Regina breathed, relieved.Emma hummed in response, her tongue coming out to give one long lick between Regina’s thighs.“Oh, Gods!”Emma smirked before repeating the action and second and third time, slowing her pace with each additional lick. She took the time to savour Regina’s rich flavour, smacking her lips before diving in again, only to pull back and moan in approval.“You taste so fucking good, baby. And you have the most beautiful looking cunt I have ever seen.” Emma swirled her tongue against Regina’s sopping entrance before pressing inside, reveling in the gasp she heard from above. She speared her tongue inside of Regina’s wet channel, wishing it were longer so that she could feel the muscles grip it tight. Her tongue might not be long enough, however…Regina groaned loudly in protest when Emma’s tongue was removed from her pussy. She moved to grip the woman’s head to keep her in place, only to find she couldn’t move her arms due to the invisible bindings. She grunted in frustration and displeasure, glaring at Emma when the woman looked down on her with amusement.“Something wrong, pet?”Knowing if she sassed her Domme she would get in trouble, Regina gritted her teeth and shook her head instead. Emma chuckled and hovered above her, placing a soft kiss on the woman’s swollen lips.“Relax, baby. I know what you want.”Emma slid from the bed, and – oh, this was so not what Regina wanted. But then Emma smiled at her and began slowly undressing, and Regina’s breathing grew laboured as her Domme’s firm body was slowly revealed to her.“I can’t decide if I want my cock in your mouth or in your cunt.”Regina’s stomach clenched, her mouth dropping as a pang of arousal shot straight through her legs. Gods. She didn’t care where Emma put it, as long as it was inside of her.“I think both are what I want.”Emma’s hand waved above her lap, where a familiar appendage grew between her legs. She then crooked her finger at Regina, watching with a smile as the woman was moved along the bed until she was right at its edge. Magic was incredibly useful, Emma thought to herself, especially in the bedroom. She then stood right at Regina’s head, gripping her cock tight and giving it a harsh tug.“Fuck,” she grunted.When Emma looked down, her cock twitched at the unbearably wanton sight of Regina laying before her. Her mouth was open, tongue licking her bottom lip, chest heaving, her entire body accessible to any part of Emma. The knowledge that Regina wanted this, wanted Emma to touch her stirred Emma’s desires profoundly.“God damn.”Emma immediately reached out, gripping the back of Regina’s head and leaning forward.“You’re going to blow me, slut. And you’re going to fucking like it.”Regina moaned, mouth eagerly swallowing Emma’s hardness. Emma jerked her hips, the tip of her cock nudging the back of Regina’s throat and causing her to gag.“Stop that! I said suck,” Emma reprimanded, her hand gripping the back of Regina’s head more harshly.Regina hips squirmed against the bed as she was forced to swallow Emma’s cock, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as it was guided down her throat. She breathed in slowly from her nose, concentrating on keeping calm as Emma’s hips began to rock against her face. She sucked hard, cheeks hollowing with the strength of her action. Emma grunted above her, and Regina shivered in response. She loved the way Emma took her like this, using her body for her pleasure. She was glad that they were able to fall back into their roles after their earlier pause, unbelievably happy that Emma had not chosen to take things slowly. The truth was Regina wanted to be fucked, and the sooner she did as her Domme wanted, the more eagerly she complied, the sooner she would get what she wanted. So Regina did as she was told, relaxing her throat when Emma pushed forward and lapping at the sensitive tip every time Emma pulled back. It didn’t take long for the grip on her hair to tighten, the movement of Emma’s hips quickening until she was outright fucking her throat.“God, you’re such a good little cocksucker.”The words caused an increase of wetness to flow from Regina’s core, and she wanted nothing more than for Emma to pull her shaft from her throat and plunge it into her heated sex. Her pussy was clenching with need, wishing it were the one being fucked.“Fuck. You slut. I’m going to come. Swallow every fucking drop!”Regina moaned, eagerly complying when Emma spilled down her throat a second later. She swallowed repeatedly, ensure that she didn’t miss even a bead of Emma’s seed.Emma pulled her dick from Regina’s throat, panting harshly as she released the death grip she'd had on the woman’s head. She took a second to breathe, her head spinning at how fucking hard she’d come. God damn Regina was good at that. Emma’s eyes opened a minute later, landing upon the woman in question. She was looking up at her through hooded lids, licking her lips slowly.“Fuck,” Emma breathed, weakly waving her hand so that Regina moved back to the middle of the bed.Emma crawled back onto the mattress, draping herself over Regina’s body and initiating a slow, languid kiss. Their tongues duelled lazily for a moment, until slowly Emma’s energy returned. Regina’s hips had begun a gentle rocking motion against Emma’s thigh, and her wetness easily spread over the hard muscle. She was absolutely dripping, and the knowledge that she was going to feel that hot, wet channel gripping her cock had Emma hardening again.“You are going to be so fucking sore in the morning. When I’m finally done with you, you won’t even be able to walk.”Regina moaned in response, nodding eagerly.“You want that, pet?”“Yes, Ma’am. Please. Inside.”Emma grunted. She shifted, cock coming to rest against Regina’s core. She hissed at the heat it met, and Regina whined in pleasure. Regina’s hips automatically came up to rub herself against the hardness she felt, pleasure shooting up her spine as her clit rubbed against the thick shaft. She wanted it inside of her so badly.“Please, Ma’am. You’re so hard. Won’t you relieve the pressure in your cock? I promise I will ensure you feel nothing but pleasure.”Emma’s head swam at Regina’s words, her sultry tone sending shivers down her spine and shooting right through her cock. She moved, the blunt tip of her dick probing at Regina’s tight entrance.“I’m going to enjoy myself?”Regina nodded eagerly.“Yes. Yes. You won’t regret it. Use me any way you like, Ma’am. I am here only for you. Please tell me how I can make it better for you.”Fuck. There was no way Emma could resist. She slid in without another word, Regina gasping in delight.“Yes,” Emma hissed in approval, hips snapping forward until she was buried to the hilt. She panted in Regina’s neck, eyes rolling in her head as she felt just how fucking tight Regina was gripping her. “Shit.”Regina rolled her hips, moaning deep in her chest at the feel of Emma’s cock rubbing along her walls. Fuck, it felt good to finally have her cock inside, filling her, stroking her. All week she’d been dreaming of this, and as Regina rocked her hips against the rock-hard member filling her pussy, she could do nothing but moan in appreciation and delight. Regina alternated between squeezing and relaxing her muscles as she rocked, knowing she’d entice her Domme into action with enough patience. Sure enough, Emma growled into her throat and sunk her teeth into Regina’s sensitive skin before slamming her hips and roughly pinning Regina to the bed. Emma held Regina in position for a moment, making it clear she was unhappy with the liberty Regina had taken. She bit down on Regina’s throat, her cock stirring when she felt the vibration of Regina’s whimper against her mouth.Regina stayed absolutely still, though she didn’t have much of a choice. Her arms and legs were held down by magic, her hips pressed into the bed by the pressure of her Domme’s hips, her head and neck held in place by the sharp teeth currently sunk into her throat. She could not move, and her head swam with just how helpless she was against Emma at that moment. Her cunt fluttered in pleasure against the cock invading its walls, the only part of her body expressing just how turned on she was at being topped like this. Regina remained unmoving, swallowing only when the grip on her throat was released.“You will not try that again,” Emma said menacingly.“No,” Regina whimpered. “I’m sorry.”Emma stared daggers at her sub, moving predatorily above her, her lower body pressed tightly to the brunette’s.“You told me this cunt was here for me,” Emma said icily, hips rocking ever so slowly against her sub’s. She grunted as her dick rubbed against incredibly soft walls, stomach clenching with desire. “And yet you were using my cock to make yourself feel good. You are here for my pleasure. Not the other way around.” Emma punctuated her statement with three harsh pumps of her hips, slamming into the heat between Regina’s legs.Regina bit back the moan that clawed at her throat, nodding at the rough words being said to her. Fuck, she was drowning in desire, her mind hazy with how deliciously she was being manipulated, the words being said to her.“This pussy is mine,” Emma purred, hips moving back and then crashing forward again. “And I decide how it gets fucked. And right now, I want to fuck it hard.”Emma moved her left hand down and gripped her sub’s hip hard enough that she knew the woman’s skin would bruise tomorrow, leaning on her right hand and hovering above the woman in order to be able to move the way that she wanted to. Wasting no time, Emma immediately began a punishing rhythm, chasing the orgasm that was already digging at her lower belly.“Look at you, so fucking wet for me, legs spread for me like a common whore.”Emma watched her lover closely, and when she felt her cunt clutch her, saw the way Regina writhed and bucked beneath her, she continued, thrusts growing sharper, slamming Regina’s hips into the bed.“You like the way I use you? Like the way I fuck you into this mattress?”“Yes, Ma’am. Oh, yes. Please. Fuck me. Don’t stop.”Emma growled, Regina’s breathy plea twisting the knife of pleasure in her gut.“You going to come for me?”“O-only if I’m- ah! Only if you’ll allow it, Ma’am.”Emma had planned on coming first, on forcing Regina to hold off until she came, but she suddenly changed her mind. She wanted to watch Regina’s expression as she came. And after that, Emma had other plans.Her left hand let go of its death grip on Regina’s hip, instantly moving between the brunette’s thighs. Her thumb landed squarely on the woman’s swollen clit, causing a sharp cry to tumble from Regina’s lips.“Come, slut.”On the next thrust of her Domme’s hips, Regina screamed, her back arching and her body freezing in the air as she was slammed with wave after wave of white hot pleasure. The pounding between her legs did not cease, nor did the rough circles on her clit. Regina dropped down on the mattress, stomach muscles tightening and causing her to curl forward. She didn’t get very far before the restraints constricted her movement, and Regina jerked sloppily, twisting and dancing beneath her Domme’s attention like a puppet on a string. Regina cried out again as she was quickly brought to, and then promptly thrust over, a second peak, her breath coming out in shuddering pants as she fought to catch her breath. Before she could catch up to what had just happened, Regina found herself flipped onto her stomach, a pillow appearing beneath her hips as she was slammed into from behind. She whimpered, her body overstimulated and yet still craving more.“I’ve been thinking about fucking you like this all day. I love watching my dick disappear into you from behind.”Emma yanked Regina up onto her knees, moving her around until the woman yelped. Emma grinned, knowing she’d found the right angle and increasing her thrusts, the tip of her cock pounding mercilessly against Regina’s G-spot.“Oh, God. Oh fuck. Ah!”“God has nothing to do with this. He wouldn’t fuck a whore like you,” Emma growled, grabbing Regina’s hair and yanking her head back. She thrust harder, chasing her orgasm. “Now rub your clit and come for me again.”Regina did so without hesitation, her right hand slamming between her legs and furiously rubbing her clit. Two thrusts later and she was coming again, crying out with pleasure when she felt Emma’s teeth sink into her shoulder. She was going to be covered in bruises and bite marks tomorrow, and the thought sent another pang of pleasure straight to her core. She felt Emma harden before she too came, sputtering her release deep within Regina’s cunt. No longer able to hold herself up, Regina collapsed onto her stomach, Emma’s cock slipping out and causing the brunette to grunt unhappily.Emma, although still dizzy with pleasure, took in the glorious sight of Regina ass on display before her. She leaned forward and sunk her teeth into her backside, reveling in the sharp cry she received in response. She pulled away only enough to lave her tongue against the indentations before sliding the wet muscle down between Regina’s legs to lap up the arousal coating the woman’s heated sex. She licked and sucked until slim hips were quaking beneath her mouth, indicating that Regina’s libido had returned and she was ready for more attention. Emma knew she couldn’t come again, not without a break anyway, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t pull another few orgasms from her lover with her lips and tongue.Wondering if Regina would let her do what Emma really, really wanted to, she decided to test the waters by slowly dragging her tongue further and further up the back of Regina’s slit, until she was probing the area where her ass and cunt met. This was not a ‘no’ for Regina. In fact, she’d expressed that it was very much something she wanted to do, and Emma wondered if she was open to some light touches tonight. Only one way to find out. Her tongue ventured higher, until the body beneath her tongue tensed.“Ma’am?”Emma pulled away, licking her lips and pressing a kiss to Regina’s slit.“Colour?” Emma asked, tongue skimming around Regina’s wet entrance before sliding up higher, approaching new territory.“V-verde. Ah,” Regina gasped, nodding into the mattress even though the movement could not be seen. “Yes. Verde, Ma’am.”Emma spread Regina’s cheeks, blowing soft air against the newly exposed area.“Now?”“Still verde, Ma’am. I- it will remain verde, as long as you aren’t planning on… on inserting anything other your finger.”Emma shook her head, tongue tracing along the soft globes.“No,” she assured, teeth grazing Regina’s supple flesh. “I just want to lick here tonight, that’s all.”Regina groaned in approval, hips moving backward, towards the offer of pleasure. Emma chuckled at the response, tongue moving closer to its goal. She stopped short of coming to the puckered entrance, swirling widely around it and grinning at the grunt of disapproval she received. To compensate, she brought one hand between Regina’s legs, her fingers slowly strumming against the sensitive clit there.“Oh!” Regina breathed, not having expected the touch. “Yes.”Emma then dipped her tongue to where it was desired, both women groaning in response. Emma began slowly lapping at the area, painting gentle circles with her tongue as her fingers worked Regina’s swollen clit. She could feel the familiar trembling in Regina’s thighs, lips forming into a smile as she pressed her tongue more aggressive between the brunette’s cheeks.“Oh! Oh, I’m going to- ah! I’m going to come.”Emma quickened the pace of her fingers, though the lashes from her tongue did not increase in speed. She followed the jerky movement of Regina’s hips, holding her tight when the woman quivered and then cried out, hips bucking back and forth, trying to escape Emma’s touch. Emma refused to let her get away, tongue and fingers working her body until Regina whimpered and tried to collapse. Emma held her up, pulling her mouth away enough to speak.“One more, baby girl. Just one more for me.”“I can’t. I can’t again.”“You can. Come on. Just one more, precious. I want another one from you.”Regina swallowed hard, nodding her head. Emma knew that Regina wasn’t done yet, because when she was, she ripped herself away from the blonde’s arms rather forcefully. The fact that she was only half-assing (no pun intended) her escaping told Emma all she needed to know.“Good girl.”This time, Emma got up on her knees, slicking the thumb of her left hand with Regina’s juices before bringing them to Regina’s back entrance.“I changed my mind. I want to push a finger here.”Regina nodded immediately, rolling her hips in encouragement.“Yes. Oh, yes, Ma’am.”Emma’s right hand came up between Regina’s legs, fingers plunging into her cunt from behind as her thumb pressed against Regina’s virginal hole.“Touch your clit for me.”Regina instantly complied, eyes rolling in her head as she was filled for the first time in both holes of her lower body. It was a strange sensation to feel Emma’s thumb stroke inside of her ass, but the feeling was incredibly pleasurable as well, especially when coupled with the fingers in her pussy and the ones rubbing her clit. She could already feel the tired muscles of her belly constricting in preparation for yet another orgasm.Regina moaned in pleasure when Emma’s fingers slowly increased their attention, pushing and stroking, rubbing and plunging. Her head dropped forward on the bed, forehead pressed into the sheets as her hips began thrusting backward, impaling herself on Emma’s invading fingers.“Oh yes, just like that. Please don’t stop.”“Do you like that, baby girl? Like the way I’m filling you up? You’re taking me so well, my girl. I’m so proud of you.”Regina’s stomach quivered in response, desire shooting between her legs. She was embarrassingly close after so many orgasms, her body never having the opportunity to come down. Emma’s attention was relentless, and Regina’s body was going to be utterly spent when she finally finished with her.“Come on, pet. Fuck yourself harder on my fingers.”Regina quickly complied, groan falling from her lips as a third finger was added to her cunt, the burning stretch more than welcome. The fingers curled several thrusts later, pressing firmly on the swollen bump on her front wall.“Oh! Oh! Yes. Right there. Oh fuck. I won’t last. I’m going to-”“Come, baby girl. Come all over my fingers. Show me how greedy you are. Squeeze my thumb with your ass.”Regina shook violently, the added sensation of Emma’s thumb between her cheeks causing her orgasm to rip through her body like a freight train. She screamed into the mattress, body bucking wildly against Emma’s fingers, as well as her own. She jerked, shook, and lurched both towards and away from the probing digits, squeezing her eyes shut as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her body. She felt the evidence of her orgasm spill from her body, Emma using the added lubrication to probe a fourth finger at her entrance. The slight sting caused a second mini orgasm to ripple through Regina’s body, the woman crying out weakly against the minute pleasure. Finally, finally she could not take anymore, her hand dropping from her clit and her body collapsing on the bed. Emma followed her, biting her lower lip at the incredibly wonderful feeling of Regina’s cunt spasming against her fingers. She loved to feel the fluttering of her girlfriend’s walls, only slipping out when Regina sighed heavily and the spasms had all but stopped. Emma leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss to the back of Regina’s neck, whispering that she’d be back in a second.Emma made her way to the bathroom to quickly brush her teeth, knowing Regina would not let her mouth anywhere near her face if she did not do so. She also took the opportunity to pee, quickly washing her hands before making her way back to the bed.Emma found Regina in the same position in which she’d left her, the woman’s breathing still erratic. Emma chuckled to herself and waved her hand, the blankets and pillows reappearing on the bed. Regina groaned in protest at being covered, making absolutely no motion to rectify the situation.Emma climbed in the bed with a smile on her face, propping herself up against the headboard before dragging Regina up and into her arms. She wrapped her lover in the comforter, not wanting her to catch a chill as she held her close. Emma held the brunette securely, gently rubbing her hand up and down her back as she waited for Regina to return to her.“Mmm. So good,” Regina slurred, face nuzzling further into Emma’s warm neck. She smiled when Emma chuckled, placing a soft kiss against her throat. “You’re amazing.”“Thank you. You were wonderful tonight. You did so well. Are you okay?”Regina nodded.“Better than okay. Gods. I am going to be incredibly sore in the morning, but I loved every moment.”“I did warn you.”“You did, darling. Though I don’t believe you’ve ever been quite so enthusiastic with your teeth.”Emma grinned.“I like marking you.”“Hmm, and I so do enjoy being marked by you.”Emma held Regina close for another few minutes before placing soft kisses on her head, leaning down to whisper against her temple.“You sure you’re okay? Nothing was too much?”Regina shook her head, basking in the feeling of Emma’s warmth and affection.“Other than the momentary pause that I required, no. Everything was perfect, Emma.” She turned her head just enough to look up at the blonde, her hand coming up to cup Emma’s cheek. “I never thought I would find someone who would complete me so thoroughly, who could give me everything I ever wanted and ever needed. Not a second time, not after everything I’ve done. But you, Emma…” Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she continued, voice hoarse. “You’ve made me feel things I thought I never would again. And now, you offer me something I have craved more deeply than anything before. Thank you, my darling, Emma.”“You never have to thank me for fulfilling a need, Regina. I’m always gonna be here for you. I’m always gonna give you what you need, whatever it is. Thank you for opening up to me and for trusting me with this though. It was scary for you, to say it out loud. And I know you’re scared of other people finding out about that part of you. But I want you to know that your secret is safe with me. I’m never, ever gonna tell anyone, okay? As your Domme, it’s my job to keep you safe. And I will act with your best interests at heart. I’m going to make sure no one ever finds out about this. I’m gonna keep you safe, okay? You always will be, with me. I hope you know that.”When Regina nodded in response, Emma’s heart soared.“I do, Emma. Thank you.”“Good. I know this is only the beginning, baby, but I hope you know I’m going to do my best to meet every one of your desires. I can’t wait to explore this with you.”Regina smiled up at her lover, moving forward and placing a soft kiss upon her lips.“Thank you, darling. I cannot wait to explore this further with you either. I love you.”“And I love you, baby girl.”-Fin-
|
10018325
|
Lunch date
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/F",
"Characters": "Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor",
"Fandom": "Supergirl (TV 2015)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by ckr",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "1,818",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff",
"Relationship": "Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Her finger stop scrolling her iPad as her eyes stared at the images on the screen. Her and Kara. She narrowed her eyes and brought her ipad closer to see it clearly. The words were too small for her to make out what it was but the reactions and comments under the pictures made her curious. There were a lot of heart-eyes emoji and heart emoji. There was even relationship goal hashtag. She zoomed in the picture and her eyes went wide. Her jaw dropped when she read what was written on the pictures.“Hi.”Startled, Lena almost dropped the ipad in her hand. “Hey.” She awkwardly tried to get her composure back. “I didn’t hear you came in.” She put the ipad on her desk to greet her girlfriend, arms already stretched out to hug her.“Well because whatever you had on your ipod seemed to be----“ Kara paused when Lena pressed her lips to hers. She immediately returned the kiss and gently bit on Lena’s lower lip. She smiled after Lena pulled back. “Making you blushed.” She added while Lena ducked her head down to hide her redden cheeks. “It’s not easy to make the CEO of LCorp, Lena Luthor blush. Now I’m intrigued.”Lena quickly grabbed Kara’s arm before she could make her way to Lena’s desk. Kara arched her eyebrow at Lena’s behaviour.“Are you---“ Kara trailed off as she eyed her girlfriend, looking for words. “Watching porn?” She whispered after a while but Lena playfully slapped her arm as she laughed.“What? No!” Lena shook her head, arms crossed over her chest. “It’s 1 in the afternoon, Kara. I have a lot of important things to do. Besides if I were, I would’ve called you.” She bit her lower lip knowing what impact that particular gesture had on her girlfriend.Kara pressed her lips tightly when her mind processed Lena’s words and where it could go. They didn’t make a habit of doing the deed in Lena’s office, only once or twice. Lena was always busy with her work. Even though she never said she was too busy when Kara came to visit, she tried not to distract her too much. She smiled shyly when she caught Lena looking. “Now I’m intrigued about what you have in mind.” Lena smirked.Kara cleared her throat as she pushed her glasses up her nose. “You’re avoiding. I still want to know.” She said as she pulled Lena to sit on the couch. “Anyway I brought lunch.”“Thanks. I’m starving.” Lena said as she looked inside the plastic bags. Kara took that opportunity to use her super speed to get the ipad in Lena’s desk and back at the couch in a space of seconds. Lena felt a gust of wind then looked up to see Kara had her ipad in her hand. She shook her head. “Alright. I’ll show you.” She leaned back as she took the ipad from Kara and began searching.Kara took out their lunch out and opened it while glancing at Lena. Her girlfriend was all red just like when she came in. It made her left their lunch and scooted closer to Lena. “So?”“I didn’t know this was a thing.” Lena said as she looked up. “I took five minutes break so I googled my name to see what new accusations people has on me.” Kara frowned and stared at her. “It’s the first time I’ve ever done something like this so don’t give me that look.”“They’re wrong about you.”“I’m a Luthor. As long as I have that name I will always be judge by what my family does, no matter how hard I try to do good. It’s hard to change how people think of you when your mother and brother constantly are the source of bad news. Nobody believes---”“Kara Danvers believes in you.” Kara cut her off.Lena held her head back as she laughed. “And Supergirl believes in me. I know.” She leaned to give Kara a peck on the cheek. “And you thought I didn’t know it was you!”“What? My cousin has similar cover and nobody knows his secret identity except Lois!” Kara defended her lame cover. “Oh James knows.” She added when that tall reporter crossed her mind.Lena rolled her eyes then crossed her arms. “Like I couldn’t recognize your voice? Like your cute glasses make any difference? Like your beautiful hair doesn’t look the same as Supergirl?” She laughed softly when Kara pouted. “And you said you flew here on a bus.” She chuckled when she remembered that particular moment.“Hey! That was the only one time I slipped!”“Yeah it was weird and suspicious.” Lena replied, eyes gazing at Kara. It seemed just like yesterday it happened and now she was here with her. She couldn’t believe her luck. “As I was saying—“ She cleared her throat as she reached for their forgotten lunch. “I googled my name and some things came up. This looks delicious.” She picked up the chopstick and dug into her lunch box.“What things?”Lena swallowed before she spoke, “Mostly pictures, you and me. Well why don’t you type my name together with yours. See what comes up.”Kara did as she was told and her reaction was exactly what Lena had. She looked up and saw Lena smiled. “Have you seen this?” It was kind of dumb question when Lena was the one who told her. “I mean who did this?” She couldn’t help to blush at some of the explicit arts. There were all over social media platform.Lena shrugged her shoulders. “Beats me but there are a lot of them. Some of the words are too funny. I have to admit those edit pictures of us are too cute. It looks like some people want us to be together.”“But we are together!” Kara quickly replied and her eyes went back to the screen. “Yeah but the public doesn’t know that.” Lena replied as she went back to her lunch. Her stomach screamed to be filled as Kara scrolled the pages and zoomed in on the pictures.Kara’s hand went to cover her mouth. “Oh Rao! Some of them are too real not to be true! Look at this gifset—“ Kara paused, “It says I’m in love with you, I just don’t know it yet. This picture of us walking together and this one during your company event. How they even got these pictures?”“Paparazzi?” Lena answered non-chalantly. She was used to being followed wherever she was though Kara’s pictures were another matter. She wasn’t a celebrity but she was a public figure. Now that they were dating Kara had to get use to it as well.“Wait! They have you and Supergirl too!” Kara shrieked excitedly, getting a look from Lena. “This one comment says she ship Supergirl and Lena Luthor because they look so good together! She puts #Supercorp at the end. Hm interesting!”“Ship? What’s that?” Lena asked curious.“It’s a term you use to describe people you think are good together and you want them to have a relationship, mostly romantic.”“How do you even know this thing?” Lena chuckled, surprised at how informed Kara was. “And what that supercorp suppose to mean?”“Since it’s under your picture and Supergirl, my uneducated guess would be a combination of Supergirl and L Corp?” Kara nodded a few times as she thought about it. “Yeah I think so. I wonder what ship name they have of you and Kara.” Kara wiggled her eyebrow before going back to the device.Lena shook her head at Kara’s excitement. She didn’t think Kara would be this invested. “How lucky I am to be shipped with Supergirl and Kara Danvers. If only they knew they both are the same woman.”“Imagine if I post our picture together on my instagram or twitter. It’ll blow up!” Kara laughed but then frowned. “They don’t have a ship name for us, I mean you and Kara. I couldn't find it.”“Karlena? Lenka?” Lena laughed. She was bad at this.“That doesn’t sound so bad but I love Supercorp. It sounds awesome.” Kara grinned.“But you can’t use Supercorp for my picture and you.”“Wait. You let me post our pictures?” Kara asked. They talked about it once but after long discussion they agreed to keep their relationship a secret, at least kept it hidden from the Luthors.“If my mother or brother know I’m dating you—“ Lena sighed. “I don’t want them to use you to get to me. God knows my mother would do anything to make me join her crazy plan. I don’t want you to get hurt.”“Pftt! Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. I’ll protect you.” Kara reassured her girlfriend. She knew the reason Lena was reluctant to make their relationship public was because this very reason. How thoughtful of her worrying about others safety than her own. “Okay?”Lena nodded. She knew sooner or later it would get out. People already speculating her friendship with Kara, only a matter of time before people found out they were more than just friends. Her flooding Kara’s office with flowers only made people speculated more. “Okay.”“Yay! Thank you!” Kara went for a hug and almost chocked her girlfriend. “Since you don’t have social media accounts, I’m going to post the picture from my instagram account.” She reached for her phone in her bag, scrolling down hundreds of their pictures together. “This one!” She showed it to Lena to get her approval.“We look cute. I approve.”“Great!” It only took a few seconds after the picture was posted before her phone was flooded with notifications. Her smile grew wider when she read all the comments. “Look! This one says Kara: 1 Supergirl: 0 !” She giggled.“Did you put any caption?” Lena asked as she took a look. “Oh well then.” Kara had put ‘Chillin’ with my girlfriend #InARelationship #throwback’ as caption. The comments they got was overwhelming. Most of them were happy and said every hot girl and their mother saw it coming. They both laughed as they scrolled through the comments. “This one says she’s sorry for Supergirl.” Lena said as she put down her lunch box on the table only realising that Kara hadn’t touched hers. It seemed their lunch date might take longer and she better let Jess know but before she could say anything, Kara did.“Well I for one, not feeling sorry for Supergirl because—“ Kara leaned forward as she put down the ipad and then turned to Lena to wrap her arm around Lena’s waist, pulling them closer. She took off her glasses and winked, “She’s about to even the score.”Lena laughed before she brought their lips together. She might have to tell Jess to postpone her appointments after all.
|
10041398
|
The Willows Dark Heart
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Treebeard | Fangorn, Old Man Willow, Tom Bombadil, Goldberry (Tolkien)",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by amyfortuna (elwinfortuna)",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00",
"words": "428",
"Additional Tags": "Ficlet, Entish Romance, Tragic Romance, Implied/Referenced Character Death",
"Relationship": "Treebeard | Fangorn/Old Man Willow",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Silmread Ficlets",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": "M/M, Other",
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Long ago, before the Elves crossed the Misty Mountains on their way to the West, before Orcs roamed the world, before time itself began to be counted, there were the Ents, shepherds of the trees. Legend tells that the Elves woke them, taught them how to speak and sing, but they needed no awakening to communicate with each other. They walked their forests, each to his own plot of ground, save for Treebeard, chief among them, who travelled far and wide, from the pine heights of Dorthonion to the southern lands of what would later be Gondor. In his journeying, he met a Willow Ent, bright and vast, with weeping trails of leaves that swept the ground, so green, so fair that he forgot his brown and lovely Entwife in her garden lands to the south. Becoming enamoured of the Willow, he stayed long in Eriador by the shores of the Withywindle, and for many years their roots were entwined and their branches tossed together by the same wind. But the Willow, fair though he was, grew a dark heart. Some say that a spider's venom, one of Ungoliant's foul brood or indeed Ungoliant herself as she fled, pierced him so that he turned away from caring for life into hating it, from nurturing his forest to controlling it. And one day, in the early days of the Sun, when she rode yet Eastward across the sky, Treebeard stirred himself from heavy slumber to find that the Willow's heart was fierce against him and that death lay in wait for him upon his waking. So might the greatest of all the Ents have perished, had the River-daughter in her beauty and might not come forth from the brown mud of the Withywindle, had not the ancient Tom Bombadil stepped forth out of the earth itself, where for long years he had lain in waiting, and aided Treebeard with their songs. With their help, he escaped and returned to Fangorn in grief, there to find several of his children, young Entings once, grown to stewardship themselves. He nevermore returned to walk in the woods of Eriador, and the Willow there grew in power, controlling and keeping all trees in the forest under his will. Only Bombadil and Goldberry he could not master, and in hate for them plotted to destroy all things that walked on two legs and wandered in his forest. And ever he was thwarted by the River and by the Earth, until one day, in a great storm, lightning struck him, and his dark heart burned.
|
10037336
|
Destiny
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, Gale Hawthorne",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Xerxia",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "7,000",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence",
"Relationship": "Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Destiny
The day of Peeta Mellark’s last reaping dawned gloriously, with a pink-and-gold sunrise sliding back to reveal blue skies, and a soft breeze fluttering through the open windows. But he couldn’t enjoy it, and not just because he was holed up in the bakery, toiling in front of the ovens. He couldn’t enjoy it because he was terrified about Katniss, the girl he’d had a crush on since forever. It would be her last reaping too, one way or another. It was the another thought that had him so worked up. Peeta had spent three-quarters of his life watching Katniss Everdeen. Watching the sweet, vibrant girl who sang like an angel - but was forced to grow up far too fast - turn into a strong, independent, often-scowling woman. In the years since her father died, in the years since that gut-wrenching day she’d appeared at the back of the bakery, skeletal and with eyes already dead, Katniss had learned to take care of herself and her family. And Peeta had been watching. He knew each time she took out tesserae, had been mentally counting her slips in the reaping bowls for six long years. And this year, her name was in the reaping twenty-eight times. Twenty-eight! The odds, he knew, were not in her favour. His own seven slips seemed paltry by comparison. Truthfully, he’d never really worried about reaping day, not after the first few times anyway. Not once he realized that the kids being called were almost always Seam. Blond merchant heads appeared on the podium only very rarely. A soft tap on the back door shook him from his reverie, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips. He pulled open the door to find her standing on the back stoop, cheeks flushed pink and long black braid tucked under a cap. “Good morning, Peeta,” she said softly, and his smile widened. Though they’d been classmates their entire lives, Peeta had never spoken to Katniss until a year and a half ago. Oh, she came to the kitchen door frequently before that, trading squirrels and greens for bakery bread, but she’d always traded with his father while Peeta tried not to get caught staring. But a year and a half ago, everything changed. A year and a half ago, District 12 changed. And Gale Hawthorne was to blame. “Good morning, Katniss,” Peeta said, ushering her into the kitchen. She glanced around; out of habit, he thought. There was no longer anyone to fear in the Mellark Bakery kitchen. Not since the measles outbreak that killed Peeta’s mother and middle brother eighteen months ago. The same outbreak that had left dozens dead, merchant and miner alike. The outbreak that cost the Hawthorne family two children and apparently drove the eldest Hawthorne child quite mad. “I, uhm. I brought some cheese to trade,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes. He liked how shy she could be. Growing up, she’d seemed aloof; certainly the rest of their classmates thought she was stuck-up. But that wasn’t it. She was simply cautious and reserved. But she’d begun to drop her walls around him, started to let him see who she really was. And he adored that girl even more than the fierce huntress the rest of the district saw. She produced two perfect little goat cheeses from her bag, each carefully wrapped in basil leaves. With the fence that separated the district from the surrounding woods electrified 24/7 now, she seldom had any meat to trade. But her sister made cheese and they grew herbs and Peeta and his father were always happy to trade for those. Not that Katniss had a lot of other choices. Since the old black market, the Hob, was burned to the ground by Peacekeepers nearly a year and a half ago, the shops in town were the only places left for her to sell to or trade with. Peeta knew she always came to the bakery first though. Not the grocer, not Rooba the butcher. To him. They chatted just a little as they completed their trades. On such a fear-fraught day, they stuck to safe subjects - the weather, cheese buns, Prim. Prim was the one topic Peeta could always count on Katniss sparing a few words for. And the one thing that could bring a soft smile to her lush lips. Her smiles were rare, each uptick of her lips he earned felt like an accomplishment, he cherished each one. It had been a long, slow process of building trust to get to the point where she would talk to him about herself, her life, her family. A year and a half of growing together, of gentle coaxing, of never pushing, and finally he thought she might see him as a friend. “Peeta,” Katniss said as he was placing the bread and rolls he’d offered in trade into her satchel. He glanced up to meet her silver eyes, wondering if she was going to chide him again for putting too many in the bag. It was a game they played; he tried every time to tuck a few extra morsels in, knowing how terribly the Everdeens struggled without access to the woods. Sometimes she’d argue with him about it. More frightening were the times she wouldn’t. Today, though, her eyes were soft with concern. “Good luck this afternoon.” He tried to give her a reassuring smile. He wanted to tell her that they’d both be fine, but those twenty-eight slips weighed heavily on his heart. And he wouldn’t lie to her. “You too,” he said. As she turned to leave, Peeta called out to her. “Katniss?” His voice trembled just slightly. She looked back over her shoulder. “Could I see you tonight, after the Reaping?” She turned fully, her eyes searching his, and he held his breath. After what felt like an eternity, she nodded. “Okay,” she said simply. “Okay,” he breathed, relieved. Assuming they both survived, Peeta was going to ask Katniss to marry him. Tonight. He’d been over the books with his father, multiple times, and knew the bakery could provide a comfortable life for both of the surviving Mellark sons, and their future families. Knew he could offer Katniss the stability that had been so lacking in her life for years. If she would allow it. Peeta knew Katniss didn’t love him, knew her heart still belonged to Gale Hawthorne. But he also knew she was pragmatic, and with some persuading she would surely see how much easier it would be for her to care for her mother and sister if she had the bakery’s stability behind her. He would woo her then, would show her how beautiful and special she was, shower her with attention and affection. And maybe, just maybe, someday she might grow to love him too. But if she could never love him that way, it would be enough to have her beside him in friendship, to know that she was safe and fed and cared for. He only hoped he could convince her. o-o-o Peeta made the short walk from the bakery to the square where the reaping was to take place alone, giving the whipping post and stockades a wide berth. After Gale Hawthorne and several of his miner cohort rioted, seriously damaging the rail line and justice building before disappearing into the woods, new Peacekeepers were dispatched to District 12, along with new rules. In those first few months after Head Peacekeeper Thread arrived, the whipping posts and stockades and even the gallows saw a lot of use. Things had calmed down some since then. The fence was still on, there was still a curfew and heavy patrols, but the torture devices stood mostly dormant. He checked in for what would be the very last time and took his place with the other eighteen year old boys up front, closest to the stage. Even as he exchanged greetings and well wishes his attention was firmly on the pens that held the girls. Waiting for her. The machine gun waving Peacekeepers, the Capitol cameras, the dignitaries lining the stage, he didn't notice any of them. He only had eyes for Katniss. She arrived with fewer than five minutes to spare, straight-spined and stoic. But she sought his eyes in the crowd. And she graced him with a small upturn of her lips. As always, it was ladies first. Peeta didn't even hear the name that came from the bowl, only that it wasn't Katniss, his Katniss. Relief flooded through him. She was safe from the reaping forever. The faintest of smiles played across his lips as he let his mind wander. Let himself envision the future he was going to propose to her. A future for them both, together. And then it all came crashing down. Every hope and dream decimated when Effie Trinket called the name of the male tribute. Peeta Mellark. “No!” a voice he knew all too well yelled from the pens where the girls stood. It was her scream that ultimately saved him. He paused his march of doom, turning back, taking a half dozen steps towards her, trying to see her amidst the throng. He’d only just made eye contact when a deafening blast slammed him, and the children around him, to the cobbles. Chaos erupted. Crashes and screams surrounded him, chunks of debris rained down. Booted feet large and small scrambled over him as if he were nothing but trash on the street. He tried to lift his throbbing head, to see above the bodies around him, but he was woozy and confused. Blood trickled down his temple and the air was thick with smoke. When a firm hand grabbed his shoulder, he expected to see Peacekeeper-white hovering over him. Instead, it was soft blue. Katniss, wearing her mother’s dress and a terrified expression, ash streaking her raven hair. “Get up,” she hissed, tugging at him. Peeta was barely on his feet before they were running. It took every bit of his concentration not to fall as she ran full-tilt, clutching his hand. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t even figure out where they were going as they zig-zagged down alleys and around buildings. She stopped only when they got to the fence. Peeta’s heart sank. The fence, the barrier that kept brave, resilient Katniss Everdeen captive in the dull district these days. But Katniss stood before the fence, panting, and leaned towards it. “What are you-” he started, and she shook her head, laying a finger across her own lips to silence him. She listened, for what he didn’t know. For five, ten, fifteen seconds, she was still and silent. Then a hint of a grin lifted her lips. “It’s off,” she said, and grasped the bottom of the chain link. Peeta gasped, but when Katniss wasn’t immediately fried, he huffed out a relieved breath. “Come on,” she said, holding up the fence enough for him to slither under. He was afraid of getting electrocuted, but he was far more afraid of the Peacekeepers who were surely searching for him. No one had ever escaped the reaping before. His clothing snagged and tore, but he managed to get under the fence. Katniss followed, taking just a moment to bend the chain link back into it’s original position. To obscure their route, he thought. “What happened back there?” he gasped. She didn't spare him a glance. “An explosion.” “How?” “I don't know.” Then she was towing him again, running nearly as quickly as they had through the district. She clearly knew where she was heading and knew the terrain, avoiding obstacles with stunning ease. Peeta, on the other hand, could barely stay on his feet, crashing into every stump, tripping over every root. By the time they slowed, he was bruised and aching, sweating and nauseous. Still they continued, the path she chose as convoluted and meandering as the one through town, crossing over itself multiple times, seeming to circle back over and over. Even in the midst of his terror, he couldn’t help but be impressed. She wasn’t lost. She was taking every precaution to prevent anyone from following their trail. Perhaps four hours had passed since his name had emerged from the giant glass bowl. They crested a hill, and Peeta found himself looking down into a verdant green valley in which a perfect jewel of blue was cradled. The ocean, maybe, or a lake. He’d read about them, but had never seen one, not even a picture of one. His breath was sucked away by the intense beauty of it. “What is this place?” he breathed reverently. They were the first words he’d spoken since the fence. “My father’s lake,” Katniss said simply. “We’ll be safe here.” In another time, in another mindset, he might have pointed out to her that safe didn’t usually mean miles outside the district, surrounded by rabid animals and venomous snakes, hunted by armed Peacekeepers. But his every thought of safety had been shattered when that pink-haired freak pulled his name at the reaping. For the first time, his brain fully grasped that. He, Peeta Mellark, a merchant who had never taken tesserae and with only seven slips in the bowl, had been reaped. He had been chosen to die. He didn’t realize he was shaking until she wrapped her arms around him. Katniss Everdeen was hugging him, and he was too distraught to enjoy it. “You’re in shock,” she said softly, and there was a note of tears in her voice. Perhaps she, too, was only now processing the enormity of what had happened. Of what they’d done. When the Peacekeepers caught up with them, she’d be killed for her part in his escape. Shot on sight if she was lucky, hauled back to the district for a public execution if she wasn’t. She had thrown her life away for him. A choked little noise of misery escaped him and she pulled back, her glassy eyes searching his own. Then she took his hand and lead him down into the valley. Even surrounded as they were by lush green trees and birdsong, a landscape of beauty beyond his imagination, Peeta could only stare at his feet, numb. But when she tugged him into the shadow of a small building he looked up. A tiny house, made entirely of concrete, standing sentinel on the shore, as strange a sight as he could ever have imagined. A house, here, so far outside the district boundary. “There used to be others,” Katniss said quietly at his confused expression. “There are still some foundations around the lake.” She led him inside. The shack was tiny, just a single room with a fireplace. No furnishings, no glass in the windows, no door. There was a pile of neatly split wood in the corner and a child-sized twig broom propped against the wall. She guided him to sit beside the hearth. “Wait here,” she said, before leaving. He sank to the cement floor, propped against the wall. She was back quickly, holding a folded piece of birch bark. “Drink,” she demanded, pressing the dripping bit of bark into his hands. Holding it, he could see it was a makeshift bowl filled with icy cold water, and he gulped at it greedily. “Slow down, you’ll make yourself sick,” she muttered, but he didn’t listen. When he’d finished, she darted back out to refill the bowl. “Take off your shirt,” she said as she returned, moving to kneel in front of him. His eyes widened, but he obeyed, hands shaking as each button slipped free. “Hold this.” She pressed the bark into his hands again, then tore a strip from the bottom of his discarded shirt. Any protest died on his lips when she dipped the bit of fabric into the water he was holding, then ever-so-gently began washing the blood from his injured head. Peeta had never seen her so closely. He could count each faint freckle that kissed her nose, feel her shallow breaths whisper across his lips. “Why did you do it?” Her hand stilled momentarily and her eyes flitted to his. Then she looked away and continued cleaning his wound. “I couldn’t let them take you,” she answered after a long pause. “Why?” She shook her head, turning away and tearing another strip from his shirt. With deft hands, she bound his head, though the bleeding was minimal at that point. She took the bark bowl from his hands and left the little cabin wordlessly. Peeta tipped his head back against the rough wall and closed his eyes, breathing hard against the rush of emotion, too heartsick and hollow to sort out the myriad of feelings. He was nodding off when she returned. “Don’t go to sleep,” she said, the gentleness of her voice at odds with the sharpness of her words. He opened his eyes, lifting an eyebrow at her in confusion. She stood before him, the soot and sweat of their escape washed from her face, black hair freed from its braid and dripping onto the shoulders of her dress. Her arms were laden with fruits and greens gathered from the woods. He marvelled at her resourcefulness. “My - my mother always tells miners with head wounds that they need to stay awake. Medical protocol.” In spite of everything, he chuckled. Katniss scowled at him, and he laughed more. She set her armload of fruit onto the hearth. “What are you laughing at?” “I just got reaped and then blown up. And then we ran for hours through woods filled with snakes and rabid animals, and probably quicksand. There are doubtless a hundred Peacekeepers on their way right now, Peacekeepers who’ll do heaven knows what to us when they find us. And you’re worried about me falling asleep?” He watched her bite her lip, as if she was unwilling to give in to the mirth. “Shut up and eat your pears,” she snickered, handing him two pieces of fruit. “Yes, Dr. Everdeen,” he laughed. They ate in companionable silence, listening to the song of the forest float in through the doorframe. Every so often, Katniss would stand and creep to the door or one of the windows on silent feet, looking out for any sign of Peacekeepers. “You should go back,” Peeta said finally, reluctantly. “While you still can. In all of the chaos, they probably haven't noticed you're missing yet. You…” he swallowed hard. “You could sneak back into the district. No one would have to know...” “I'm not leaving you.” Her words were low but forceful. “We can’t stay out here forever,” he reasoned. “We’ll find a way,” she said, but her bottom lip trembled. “Your family,” he started, but she shook her head, moving away from him to sit on the hearth. Peeta followed. “I can’t leave you.” Her voice cracked, and Peeta sat beside her, lifting her chin to catch her eyes. He could see her indecision, could feel her regret. He knew how much she loved her sister, how terrified she must be of what could happen to Prim when Katniss’ absence was noticed. “Katniss,” he sighed. “I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who need you.” “You need me,” she cried. “And I-” she stopped, wrenching her chin away from his grasp, dropping her face into her hands. “You what?” He leaned as close as he dared, spoke softly in her ear. Watched her shiver despite the summer heat. She shook her head again. “Then I’ll just have to fill in the blanks myself,” he said. He gently pulled her hands away from her face, staring into the shimmering silver pools she’d hidden. Then he cupped her cheek in one large hand. She didn’t resist as he tipped her head and pressed his lips against hers in a soft, questioning kiss. He pulled back quickly, but she chased him, their lips meeting again more confidently. Her fingers curled around his hand, and she sighed. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh and shout and sing praises to the heavens. She was kissing him. Katniss Everdeen was kissing him, and making soft little sounds of pleasure as she did. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry and scream and curse the unfairness of a world where the girl of his dreams was kissing him on what could only be the eve of his death, for surely they couldn’t stay forever in their perfect little bubble. Reality would catch up with them sooner or later. He knew only one of them would make it out of this mess alive, and it had to be her. She seemed to sense the shift in his mood, breaking their kiss but wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He pulled her into his lap and buried his face in her hair, his lips just brushing her neck. It felt so impossibly good that he couldn’t let go. And she clung to him with an unspoken desperation too. After what felt like hours, Peeta finally spoke, emboldened by the feeling of her small body pressed to his, their hearts beating together. “I wanted to ask you to marry me.” He felt Katniss tense, but he didn’t let her pull away. “Today, after the reaping.” “Why?” It was nothing but a breath, but he heard it. “You know why,” he said. There was no way she could have been unaware of his feelings for her, even if he’d never said anything. For as careful as he’d been not to spook her, not to frighten her away with the intensity of his love for her, he’d never hidden it either. Over the year and a half they’d been growing together, he’d been liberal with his smiles and compliments. And while he’d planned to use the stability he could have offered to convince her, there was no longer any stability and no need for pretense. He loved her, plain and simple. “I never wanted to get married,” she whispered, then fell silent. He sensed she wasn't done speaking. “But I’d have said yes, Peeta,” she admitted finally. He could feel her tears against his bare chest. Could feel his own tears burning the back of his throat. They clung to each other in the cement cabin, mourning what could have been. Terrified by what the future would bring. Daylight faded, shrouding them in dim before finally plunging them into darkness. Shafts of moonlight wove through her hair, crowning her in silver. He stroked the strands away from her face, admiring her. She wasn’t conventionally pretty; she was far too thin, her figure almost boyish. But with her inky hair and those incredible eyes, she was stunning, captivating. And the fire within her made her beautiful, more radiant than the sun. To him, she was perfect. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, watched her lips quirk up in contentment. “Why did you help me today, Katniss?” He had to know. Had to know if what was growing between them was real. “I told you,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “Please?” He was begging. He needed to understand. She sighed, and for a long time Peeta thought she was going to refuse him still. But finally, she spoke. “You’re my dandelion,” she said. He wrinkled his nose in confusion. But then a memory surfaced, of standing in the schoolyard, his eye swollen half-shut, catching her gaze just briefly before looking away. Watching her pick dandelions with a look of sheer determination on her face. “This…this isn’t about the bread?” he stuttered, horror dawning. “From when we were kids?” She shrugged and he bit back a groan. “I think we can let that go. I mean, you just saved my life.” “But you didn’t know me. We had never even spoken. I wouldn’t even have been here to do it if you hadn’t helped me then. And all of those times since, all of the things you’ve given me that I can never repay.” “You don’t owe me anything,” he said softly, his heart hurting. He loved her, would never use guilt or debt to influence her. “You never have.” “It’s - no. It’s not that, Peeta. It’s you. I don’t want to lose you. You - you’re my dandelion, my promise that life can be good, in spite of everything.” He kissed her again, heart in his throat, delicate wings fluttering in his chest. “Marry me,” he said against her lips. “Here. Tonight. Toast with me, Katniss.” He knew that one night was probably all they had, but he thought he could die happy knowing she’d been his, if ever so briefly. “I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you.” She stroked his cheek, her eyes searching his. “Okay,” she said. “Yes.” There was no bread for toasting in the little shack in the woods, no bakery or bread bushes by the lake. But Katniss cut thin slices of apple with her penknife while Peeta lit a fire, kept purposefully small to avoid detection. They knelt beside the flickering flame, hands clasped tightly. Reciting the ancient vows together.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
They fed each other bites of fire-singed apple and sealed their covenant with kisses and promises. It wasn’t how Peeta had envisioned his toasting day, kneeling on a filthy cement floor, shirtless and injured, with a death sentence over his head. But it was Katniss by his side, Katniss kissing away his tears, Katniss promising him always. And he was happy. In that moment, he was happy. It was late, the moon had begun her descent and Katniss was yawning. “We should try to sleep,” Peeta said. “I don’t think they’ll be looking for us in the dark.” “But your head...” Katniss said. “I think I’ll be all right.” He couldn’t see her face clearly, but he knew she’d be chewing on her bottom lip, thinking. “Please,” he said softly. “I want to fall asleep holding my wife.” She kissed him, just lightly, and tugged him to lie beside her in front of the hearth, gone cold again but with the evidence of their ceremony still visible. He drew her close, pulling her head down to use his arm as a pillow, holding her snugly against him. And together they drifted to sleep in their oasis of calm at the eye of the storm. o-o-o Peeta jolted awake, his back and neck and head aching, squinting in the soft grey light of dawn. But it wasn’t the pain that had woken him. It was Katniss. She was still beside him, but sitting upright, obviously tense, muscles taut as springs. He knew instinctively not to say a word, instead touching her hand gently. She turned to look at him, eyes wild. “There’s someone coming,” she hissed. The words were barely out before he heard it, the snap of someone - or something - walking closeby. They both scrambled to their feet. They had no weapons, save a tiny paring knife, and no escape. When a figure burst through the doorway, Peeta shoved Katniss behind him, shielding her with his body. He’d tell them he’d kidnapped her, dragged her here against her will. He’d lie to save her, any way he could. But the Peacekeeper who stood before them, staring down the sight of his rifle, was unlike any Peeta had ever seen. His uniform was dark grey, not white. A long, tense minute passed. Then the stranger’s gun lowered. “Catnip!” he yelled. “Gale?” Katniss stepped out from behind Peeta, who stood wide-eyed and bewildered. The well-fed man in front of them barely bore any resemblance to the stooped and sickly miner who had tried to incite a rebellion a year and a half ago. A miner who everyone thought was dead. Certainly, when Peacekeepers had dragged back several bloodied messes of fabric and flesh, displaying them so grotesquely in the public square, no one had had any reason to doubt they were the bodies of Gale and his co-conspirators. Yet there he stood, alive and robust, grinning. His weapon clattered to the floor. “You left me a hell of a convoluted trail to follow. Took half the night to find you!” Katniss ran across the tiny room and launched herself into his arms. Peeta watched with his heart in his stomach as Gale spun Katniss, laughing in joyous reunion. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew you were too smart to get caught!” They were a striking pair, attractive together, both dark-haired and with rich olive skin. Gale’s height and breadth complemented Katniss’s almost delicate frame. Their near identical expressions of happiness as they stared wide-eyed at each other completed the picture. Peeta felt like an interloper, watching something sacred that wasn’t for his eyes. Gale set Katniss down, but continued holding her arms, a huge smile splitting his face. “I've been in District Thirteen,” he said, and laughed at her puzzled expression. “It's still there, underground. I’ll tell you about it later. But Catnip… it’s over. It’s all over.” “What?” she said. “What’s over? I don’t understand.” “The rebellion,” Gale said, then laughed at her expression. “President Snow is dead!” Twin gasps filled the tiny shack. “That’s why I’m here, my battalion bombed the square in Twelve, took out the Capitol reps and most of the Peacekeepers. The rebellion, the oppression. The Games, the Capitol. It’s all over. We’re free.” Peeta listened with dawning comprehension. President Snow, gone. The Hunger Games over. District 12, free. “And the district, our families... is everyone okay?” Peeta asked. Gale’s head snapped up, as if he had only just noticed the other man’s presence. “There were some casualties,” Gale said dismissively. He turned back to Katniss. “Your mom and Prim are fine, they’re safe.” He reached out, stroked her hair. Peeta let that information wash over him. Katniss was free. Free to hunt again, free from the reaping forever. Free to be with the dark-haired man looking down at her with such obvious adoration. It seemed to take longer for Katniss to understand. But when she did, a huge smile split her face, the biggest smile Peeta had ever seen grace her lovely mouth. “Free,” she murmured. Then she was running. Running to Peeta. She threw her arms around him, laughing. His arms hesitated before embracing her. Not as steady as they once had been, but still warm and strong. “You’re free, Peeta. They can’t take you now.” His heart clenched at her words. She no longer needed to keep him safe. He could go back home, back to his quiet, empty life. And she could be with Gale. Peeta would give her that, wouldn’t hold her to anything she had said while they were in the cabin, in their little refuge from the world, terrified, but together and happy, however briefly. He couldn’t resist pressing one final kiss to her temple. His Katniss, who had never been his, not really. Then he released her. Then he set her free. But she surprised him, reaching for his hand and tugging him the half dozen steps to where Gale stood. “Do you remember Peeta Mellark?” she said shyly. Peeta stuck his hand out, but Gale merely stared, unmoving, as if sizing him up. After a moment, Peeta tucked his hand in his pocket. Gale nodded. “The baker’s boy. You were reaped,” he said, almost dismissively. “Good thing you didn’t get up onto that stage. You’d be dead now, the entire platform was destroyed.” Peeta swallowed hard, and felt Katniss tighten her grip on his hand. He’d wondered, in the back of his mind. But knowing was different. Gale turned his attention back to Katniss, Peeta saw his brow furrow. “You rescued him ?” “We snuck away. It was chaos, with all of the smoke and fire. When I saw the lights go off I figured the fence would be out too.” “We cut the power, just before we triggered the explosives.” Gale glanced at Peeta again, the confusion plain on his face. Then he angled his body, bending to speak to Katniss, as if Peeta wasn’t there. As if Katniss wasn’t clutching his hand like a lifeline. “Why’d you do it? You left Prim, but took him?” “I made sure Prim was safe before we ran,” she said defensively. That didn’t surprise Peeta, he knew Katniss’s family mattered more to her than her own life. “You risked their lives by taking off with him?” Gale’s tone had turned incredulous, derisive. Peeta narrowly bit back a retort. After all, Gale hadn’t been around when his own mother spent two days in the stockades for aiding and abetting her rebel son. “You said you couldn’t leave your family when I asked you to run away with me.” Gale whispered the last part. “Peeta is my family,” Katniss barked. “He’s... my husband.” Gale’s expression was one of shock, Peeta was certain his own was too. Yes, they’d toasted, and yes, he’d called Katniss his wife, but he hadn’t expected her to acknowledge it in the light of day, and he certainly hadn’t planned on holding her to it. She'd given a doomed man his final wish, kisses and promises, the warmth of her embrace in the night. But it wasn't real. He could only assume she was using him as an excuse, a convenient defense for being out in the woods. An impulsive reason to justify an impulsive act. Peeta watched the myriad of expressions flit across Gale’s face - disbelief, anger, regret, before setting on a kind of hollowness. “You… really, Catnip?” “Yes.” Her voice was surprisingly strong and clear, not a hint of hesitation. She looked up at Peeta, and smiled softly. He searched her face for any sign that it was all for show, some sort of act to get back at Gale. But he knew she was incapable of lying. The warmth he saw in her expression was real, and it was for him. He wanted to kiss her so bad he could taste it. Instead, he squeezed her hand and smiled. Gale watched them, and Peeta recognized the look of resignation on his face. The same look Peeta had seen in his own mirror for years as he watched Katniss and Gale, always together. As he tried to screw up the courage to talk to Katniss. Tried and failed, over and over. “Congratulations,” Gale said, and it was genuine, if sad. Katniss released Peeta's hand and hugged Gale again. Peeta could barely hear Gale whisper, “Are you happy?” But he saw Katniss’s answering nod clearly. o-o-o Katniss and Gale chatted the entire walk back to the district, which seemed shorter than the frantic run away from it had been, even though they were moving much more slowly. When Peeta could pull his concentration away from the riot of green surrounding him, he was heartened by the happiness he saw on Katniss’s face. She was clearly joyful to have her woods back and her friend back. But her small hand holding his own banished any jealousy he might have felt. And Gale, though he scowled at the racket Peeta made crashing through the brush, seemed accepting of the relationship he’d been so clearly shocked to see. As the unlikely trio approached the district boundary, it was clear something monumental had happened. Plumes of smoke drifted lazily, the air acrid and bitter. A low buzz spoke to people congregating somewhere in the distance. Together, the effect was chilling, ominous. The electricity was off, though both Katniss and Gale paused to listen. Peeta wasn’t certain what they expected to hear; it was only his second time this close to the fence, but he could see their relief. Katniss slid under, graceful as a cat, and Gale followed. But Peeta stood for a few moments longer. The fence marked the end of the surreal adventure his life had been the past eighteen or so hours. He’d fallen through a rabbit hole of sorts, and was apprehensive about what would happen on the other side. But Katniss was waiting for him, smiling at him through the chain link. “Come on, Peeta,” she said, and there was no rebuke, no impatience. He wasn’t as nimble as the others, but he managed to scramble through with only a couple of scratches and scrapes. As they walked through the meadow, headed towards the Seam, Peeta grabbed Gale's arm, slowed him down a few paces. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I - we thought you were dead. I know she never meant to betray you. She loves you, you know.” Gale shook his head, one eye on Katniss who was several yards ahead. “Don't believe it,” he said. “You won her over. I asked her to run away with me, after Posy and Vick died. She wouldn't. But she did with you.” “Only because of the reaping,” Peeta started, but Gale waved him off. “I know you've always loved her,” Gale said. “You were about as subtle as Effie Trinket.” Peeta cringed at the reminder of the Capitolite who had rendered his death sentence. “Take care of her.” Then he jogged to catch up with Katniss, speaking to her briefly, too quietly for Peeta to hear. By the time Peeta caught up with Katniss, Gale was running down a side road. “His mother’s house,” she said by way of explanation. He expected they’d continue to the Seam, to check on Prim and Katniss’s mother. So when she took his hand and turned towards town he gave her a questioning look. “They’re healers,” she said . “They’ll be where the injured are.” They walked in silence. Every step felt harder and heavier to Peeta, each foot they moved brought them closer to the end of whatever it was that had happened between them. Closer to whatever new reality awaited. “What’s going on?” Katniss said softly. “Are you afraid? Gale said the Peacekeepers are all gone, either dead or held prisoner.” “It’s not that,” he said, but he couldn’t mask the misery in his voice. “Then what?” It was a few minutes before Peeta spoke again, standing at the edge of town proper, smoldering ruins lining the road, the stench of destruction all around. “Katniss,” he rasped, his voice already rough from emotion and the smoke that was thickening all around them. “In spite of the reaping and everything, last night was the best night of my life.” She glanced at him, warily. “But?” she said. He huffed out a breath, and stopped. She stood in front of him, arms crossed. “But I’d never hold you to the things you said in that cabin.” “Peeta, what?” she started, but he shook his head. “I know you have something with Gale. I - I won’t get in the way of that.” Katniss scowled. “What I have with Gale is a really great hunting partnership. A brotherhood. Don’t use him as an excuse for your second thoughts.” She was fast, spinning away, stomping towards town. But fueled by equal parts horror and hope, he was faster. He was standing in front of her in a heartbeat, halting her forward motion. “Katniss,” he breathed. “My only regret is that I didn’t tell you sooner. I love you. I’ve loved you since we were five. I only want you to be happy.” “Then don’t make decisions for me. Trust me to know my own heart.” Her words faded away, her eyes fixed on his were open and clear, no layers of defence between them, no lies. His heart soared. As impossible as it seemed, Katniss Everdeen had chosen him . And in the middle of that post-apocalyptic hell, he kissed her. He kissed her and she kissed him back, and they clung to each other, and it was real. They marched the last mile to the square hand in hand, Peeta, despite his trepidation, held his head high. He had Katniss Everdeen by his side, he felt like he could conquer anything. People appeared along the route, citizens of District 12 who nodded or called out a greeting, or simply stared curiously. Others, dressed in grey jumpsuits like Gale, who didn’t even lift their gazes. All with shovels and carts, sifting through the heaps of blackened rubble and ruins. Gale’s comment that there had been some casualties seemed to drastically understate the destruction of the town portion of District 12. Shrouded piles of what could only be bodies lay ready for the funeral pyre, burning across from where the Justice building had stood just twenty-four hours earlier. Peeta’s heart hammered in his chest as they approached the square. He had no idea what they would find. The bakery still stood, the physical structure anyway. The damage was heavy, but not absolute. The large plate glass windows his mother had always fussed over were gone, the door blown off it’s hinges. But the building remained. With a deep breath, Peeta stepped inside, into the building that had been his home and his future. The floor was thick with detritus, broken glass and twisted metal, most of the interior fire-singed and water-logged. It was eerily silent. A lump formed in his throat, threatening to choke him. “It’s all gone,” he whispered. His future, the only way he could provide for Katniss, to give her the life she deserved. He felt sick. But Katniss squeezed his hand. “We’ll rebuild, Peeta.” He turned to her, and she smiled, like dawn breaking. In her, he could see rebirth in the midst of the destruction. The promise of a new life, a new reality that they would build. “Together?” “Together.”
|
10052666
|
Lamour reserve toujours
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Underage Sex",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore",
"Fandom": "Teen Wolf (TV)",
"Language": "Français",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by Darness",
"chapters": "2/2",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00",
"words": "2,184",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff, Romance, Sex, Threesome - M/M/M",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Le problème de Stiles ? Il était amoureux. Enfin ça, pour le moment, ça passait au second plan. Son plus gros problème actuel, c'est qu'il avait été désigné pour jouer Juliette.Scott et lui étaient encore au collège, leur classe avait décidé de faire une pièce de théâtre pour la fin de l'année sur Roméo et Juliette. Mais voilà, quand ils décidèrent des rôles, il n'était pas du tout attentif. Non, son regard était fixé sur Scott, son meilleur ami. Il observait sa nuque, imaginant à quel point sa peau pouvait être douce et chaude à cet endroit-là. Pendant ce temps, vu que personne ne voulait faire Juliette, quelqu'un proposa Stiles, et comme le sus-nommé ne réagissait pas, tout le monde opta pour ce choix. Comme personne d'autre que Scott n'accepterait d'embrasser Stiles, Roméo était tout désigné. Bon, en vrai, c'était Scott qui s'était proposé et personne n'y voyait d'inconvénient.Bien sûr quand Stiles s'en rendit compte, lui, il avait quelque chose à y redire ! Mais c'était trop tard. C'est ainsi qu'il se retrouva dans cette galère. Bien sûr, vous vous dîtes que jouer une pièce de théâtre n'est pas une si grosse galère que ça, mais jouer Roméo et Juliette avec la personne que vous aimez mais qui ne doit se rendre compte de rien ? C'était une toute autre histoire, bien sûr ! Ça faisait longtemps qu'il aimait Scott, et tout autant qu'il lui cachait, ne voulant pas détruire leur amitié.« Ho Scott, Scott... Pourquoi es-tu donc Scott ? » Le Scott en question rigola doucement.« C'est pas Scott dans le texte, c'est Roméo !- Ha ben merci, franchement, tu mériterais 10 points pour gryffondor ! Je sais lire mais Scott te va bien mieux que Romeo ! Personne gobera que que tu t'appelles Romeo ! Billevesées que tout ceci !- Dit-il convaincu de ses propos...- Mais c'est vrai ! Tu serais bien plus crédible en prenant une guitare pour me conter mes louanges !- Des louanges... je ne suis pas sûr d'en connaître, un psaume à la rigueur...- Mais de quoi tu me parles ? Je ne te demandes pas les tribulations de Jésus, non plus ! Juste me chanter... ce que tu ressens pour moi, par exemple ?- Hm... attends. »Stiles se demandait ce qu'allait chercher son ami. Ils étaient sur la scène, à répéter tout deux alors que les autres faisaient une pause, certainement qu'ils ne reviendraient pas d'ailleurs. Et alors ? Ils s'en fichaient. Ils n'étaient pas vraiment intégré à la classe, ils ne les aimaient pas. Ou l'inverse, ça n'avait aucune espèce d'importance du moment qu'ils étaient à deux.Scott et Stiles étaient constamment ensemble, peu importe que le reste du monde se retourne contre eux du moment qu'ils pouvaient être ensemble. Ils n'avaient rien de Roméo et Juliette, ils étaient simplement fais pour être ensemble et personne ne pourrait jamais les en empêcher, voilà tout. L'anxiété commençait à gagner l'hyperactif avant qu'il ne voit son brun revenir avec une guitare.« J'en ai trouvé une ! Bon, je l'ai emprunté à la salle de musique mais personne ne dira rien... » Stiles rit doucement, voilà qu'il déteignait sur son meilleur ami.« Et donc ? Tu vas me chanter une chanson ?- C'est ce que tu voulais, non ? »Scott lui sourit. Il n'imaginait peut-être pas à quel point ça pouvait faire plaisir au fils du shérif, il avait l'impression qu'il pouvait mourir de bonheur à la seconde même où Scott commença à jouer. Il savait qu'il avait pris des cours de guitare mais ne l'avait encore jamais entendu chanter.« Avec mon meilleur ami Stilinski, on a quelques péripéties,Quand bien même je ferais de la zoologie, lui et moi c'est pour la vie,On se connait depuis toujours,Entre nous, c'est encore mieux que l'amour,Sa façon de me fixer de ses yeux marrons,J'ai l'impression de souvent passer pour un con,Mais son sourire me suffit pour porter cette croix,Il est mon ami, mon frère, tout ce en quoi je crois... »Il s'arrêta et sourit doucement en voyant Stiles le regarder, tout ému et devenant un peu rouge. Il n'avait pas l'habitude de telles démonstrations d'affections, même si le brun était proche de lui et très tactile... entre mecs on ne parlait pas trop des sentiments, tout ça, encore moins quand on arrivait à l'adolescence.« Bon c'est peut-être un peu court et un peu pourri, mais pas trop mal pour de l'improvisation, non ? »Stiles détourna son regard, essayant de reprendre contenance, après tout, Scott ne devait pas se rendre compte de ses sentiments, jamais.« Moui, c'était pas mal. J'espère que tu feras mieux pour la prochaine fois. » Scott rit doucement en observant son meilleur ami qui lui souriait.« Si on reprenait la répétition ?- Ouais... J'ai du mal avec le texte. Et puis avoue qu'un rôle de fille ça ne me va pas du tout ! Je ne comprendrais jamais pourquoi c'est moi qu'ils ont choisis ! Lydia aurait bien mieux convenu !- Parce qu'on connait tes talents d'acteurs et que personne n'aurait pu mieux faire le premier rôle de la pièce.- Pff... je ne peux même pas te donner tors... tu sais vraiment comment me convaincre, toi !- évidemment, on n'est pas meilleurs amis pour rien. »Nouveau sourire échangé des deux. Stiles prit son texte en s'installant sur un meuble. Il n'allait pas pouvoirs mémoriser tout ça, encore moins le dire en public, il allait forcément avoir des trous... il devrait certainement improviser en espérant que ça passe.« écoute ça, ils ont réussis à caser cuisse de nymphe dans le texte ! Mais qui case ça ?! À part 50 nuances de roses...- Je suis sûr que tu arriverais à le caser si tu le voulais...- Ho arrête, à t'écouter on pourrait croire que je sais tout faire.- Ce n'est pas le cas ? »Scott sourit en rejoignant son meilleur ami sur son meuble, qui déglutit légèrement en sentant leur nouvelle proximité.« Hé bien.. non.. ce n'est pas vrai... »Les deux s'observaient les yeux dans les yeux, sans dire quoi que ce soit. C'était étrange, Stiles ne savait pas trop quoi penser mais il avait le cœur qui commençait à tambouriner dans sa poitrine. Il avait drôlement envie d'embrasser son meilleur ami, là, tout de suite.« Stiles ?- Hm ? Oui, Scott ?- On n'a pas encore répété la scène du baiser, tu veux le faire ?- Heu.. je... je me sens pas prêt, enfin... un baiser entre mecs, quand même...- Mais c'est pour de faux. » Et bien, c'était justement son problème. « Enfin... peut-être pas. »… Quoi ? Stiles haussa les sourcils, ne comprenant pas. Ou alors, il comprenait. Mais il n'était pas sûr et cherchait une réponse dans le regard de Scott qui posait sa main sur la sienne.« Ferme les yeux... »Lui susurra le brun. Stiles obtempéra facilement, et fut tout de même surpris quand il sentit les lèvres de Scott se poser doucement sur les siennes pour les goûter. L'hyperactif répondit d'abord légèrement, sentant son cœur être pris de soubresauts. Il hésitait, mais finalement, voyant que son meilleur ami continuait de l'embrasser, passa sa main libre sur sa nuque pour appuyer dessus et approfondir le baiser.En réalité, ça faisait pas mal de temps que Scott savait ses sentiments et ils étaient réciproque. Il ne savait simplement pas comment aborder le sujet, et puis... il fallait bien avouer que voir Stiles gêné, c'était tout simplement trop bon. Comme le baiser qu'ils étaient en train d'échanger.Ce qu'ils ne savaient pas c'est que caché derrière le décor, quelqu'un les observait. L'élève, là depuis déjà un moment, se demanda si, éventuellement, ils étaient polygames...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Depuis la fin du collège, Stiles et Scott étaient ensemble secrètement. En public, ils agissaient comme les meilleurs amis du monde, mais ce n'était plus vraiment comme ça entre eux depuis les répétitions pour une pièce de Théâtre où Scott avait plus ou moins avoué qu'il était fou de lui.En fait, il y avait quelqu'un d'autre qui était au courant, quelqu'un qui avait entendu leur conversation, puis vu leur baiser. Il réfléchissait à comment les avoir tous les deux dans son lit. Il les voulait, tous les deux. Il avait patiemment attendu jusque-là, à présent ils étaient au lycée et Jackson réussit à les coincer dans les vestiaires."J'suis au courant, pour vous deux." Les deux autres haussèrent les sourcils."Pardon ?- Ouais, pas besoin de faire les innocents, je vous ai vu vous embrasser lors de la répétition pour Roméo et Juliette.- Oh ! Mais ça c'était pour répéter Jackson ! Tu te doutes bien que moi et Scott, enfin...- Pas la peine Stilinski ! Ne me prends pas pour un con.- Qu'est-ce que tu veux, Jackson ?" Demanda Scott dans le plus grand calme."Un plan à trois." Stiles poussa un petit cri étouffé."Un plan... tu veux coucher avec nous ?- Ouais." On pourrait croire que Stiles venait de voir un ovni."ça va pas la tête ?- C'est ça ou je révèle à tout le monde que vous êtes ensemble." Scott avait l'air de réfléchir, tandis que Stiles tournait son regard vers lui."Après tout, Jackson est bien gaulé... pourquoi pas ?" Et merde, il savait que c'était le genre de plan qui allait finir par lui plaire."Juste une fois, alors." Jackson sourit en coin, il savait que personne ne pouvait lui résister.Le capitaine de Lacrosse enleva son haut sous le regard des deux autres."Quoi ? Ici ? Maintenant ?- Pourquoi pas ? On est seul tous les trois, non ?" Scott et Stiles s'échangèrent un regard. Jackson n'avait pas tort."D'accord.. Tu as une idée pour les positions ?" Jackson esquissa un sourire en coin. Bien sûr, il y avait longuement réfléchis."Stiles, je veux que tu te mettes nu, et que tu t'allonges sur le banc." l'hyperactif déglutit doucement."Tu ne vas pas me faire mal, n'est-ce pas ?" Jackson roula des yeux."Ne t'en fais pas, je ne suis pas une brute."Stiles obtempéra donc pendant que Jackson mettait à disposition une boite de préservatif qui allait grandement leur servir. Nu et allongé sur ce banc, Stiles se sentit rougir. Il ne s'était jamais sentis aussi soumis de sa vie.Sortant son propre membre, Jackson se caressa un instant sous le regard des deux autres, juste le temps d'être assez dur pour enfiler un préservatif. Puis il le présenta à la bouche de l'hyperactif."Suce-moi." Stiles commença, un peu timidement, à lécher le gland, puis explora plus loin, faisant doucement soupirer Jackson. "Scott, prépare-le.- Que je le prépare... Ha, d'accord !"Le brun commençait à devenir tellement excité qu'il avait l'impression d'être ailleurs. Il ne pensait pas que cette situation lui ferait tant d'effet. Il caressa les cuisses de son hyperactif avant de venir lécher son intimité, remontant sur ses bourses qu'il suçota tendrement, faisant gémir Stiles contre le membre qu'il venait de prendre en bouche.Il lui enfila enfin un préservatif à son tour, en profitant pour passer un coup de langue le long du membre avant de revenir titiller son anneau de chair de sa langue humide. Voyant que l'endroit réagissait bien - ainsi que Stiles - il commença à le doigter tout en venant prendre son membre à présent parfaitement bien tendu en bouche.Stiles gémit de plus belle, prenant le sexe de Jackson plus profondément en bouche, le faisant râler de plaisir. Dieu qu'il aimait ça. Il ne s'était jamais sentis aussi excité de sa vie."Scott... Pénètre-le à présent." Le brun haussa un sourcil et échangea un regard avec son petit-ami pour obtenir son accord. Il le voulait. Il ne se fit donc pas prier et se releva, déboutonna enfin son jean pour laisser son érection sortir et enfila un préservatif. Il prit les hanches de Stiles en main et le pénétra lentement, le laissant s'habituer à l'intrusion.Une fois arriver jusqu'à la garde, il soupira doucement de bien être et Jackson en profita pour attirer un peu le brun à lui et l'embrassa passionnément, attrapant les cheveux du Stilinski pour mieux contrôler les vas et viens dans sa bouche. Scott commença à bouger assez régulièrement en lui, faisant lentement perdre la tête à Stiles sous tant de plaisir."Maintenant, on échange de place." Soupira Jackson à Scott.Le McCall se retira doucement de Stiles qui soupira de frustration, mais pas bien longtemps puisque la queue de Jackson vint à nouveau le remplir, celle de Scott entre ses lèvres, la cadence reprit de plus belle. Le plaisir était réellement à son paroxysme et Stiles se sentait perdre pied. Il ne savait pas si Jackson était si doué ou si c'était le fait d'avoir deux hommes rien que pour lui mais bon sang... c'était génial.Son sexe commençant à devenir douloureux, il dut se prendre en main pour jouir enfin alors que Jackson et Scott arrivaient eux aussi à leur fin, dans des râles viril de plaisir.Reprenant doucement son souffle, Jackson vint embrasser les lèvres de Stiles, puis à nouveau celle de Scott."Vous deux, ne comptez pas que ce ne sera qu'une seule fois."Finit-il par dire. Puis, il jeta son préservatif avant de se rhabiller et partir, laissant les deux amoureux qu'il aimait.Scott soupira, tout en prenant place aux cotés de son amant."On est dans la merde.- Ouais. Mais c'était génial."Scott et Stiles s'échangèrent un regard, un sourire, et s'embrassèrent amoureusement.
|
10022330
|
After the Fall
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": "Male My Unit | Avatar, Noire (Fire Emblem), Female Marc | Morgan - Character",
"Fandom": "Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by renouncingChance",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "2,196",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "The Memoirs of the Tactician Robin",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
It is impossible to describe the relief we all felt at the fall of Grima. The shadow that had been hanging over us all for so long had been dispelled. For those who came from the future, their goal had been accomplished; they had lived to see the evil they had known all their lives finally cast down and destroyed.
There was much to be done, of course; many of us knew not where our future lay. The children of the future in particular had to carve out a place for themselves in the new world; for most of them, that place lay far away from their parents. For one blessed night, though, we were all together, comrades for one last time. I will never forget the marvellous feast that was organised for us all in the castle in Ylisstol, though I did not see it through to its conclusion.
The cheers and laughter of the feast gave way to the soft chirping of insects as Robin slipped surreptitiously through the door and closed it behind him. He would be missed at some point, but he thought he could probably grab a few minutes to himself. The others would understand.Well, no, they wouldn’t. They might think they did, but it simply wasn’t true. None of them had been through so many long and difficult battles, only to embrace cowardice at the very end. None of them had had to weigh the fate of the world against their own life. None of them had had to face one final test, and been found wanting.Oddly enough, he wasn’t angry, or disappointed in himself. He just felt… well, nothing much at all, really. That was the strangest thing of all. The fighting was finally over. Chrom was talking about granting him a title and a substantial estate, for what that was worth. Most importantly, everyone he loved was alive and unharmed, something he had scarcely dared to believe possible at times. So why couldn’t he celebrate any of that?Sighing, he began to stroll in the direction of the palace walls. It wouldn’t be much of an escape from the party if someone were to open a door and find him standing there, a few measly feet from all the ghastly frivolity. Given that he had the entire palace grounds to get lost in, it would be rather a waste of a good stealthy exit.As he walked, he closed his eyes in appreciation of the breeze. At least there was this. Whatever troubles he might encounter, whatever terrible thoughts might swirl ceaselessly in the maelstrom of his head, there was always the serenity of a simple moonlit walk to escape into. He cursed himself for not having the foresight to bring a book to the great victory feast. Perhaps he should start hiding a few in his sleeves like Morgan. He chuckled aloud at the thought.Something caught his eye; a sudden movement atop the palace walls. He tensed, remembering another night time encounter in these palace grounds. Admittedly, with Validar dead and the Grimleal no longer an extant force, there wasn’t really anybody to be sending assassins into Ylisstol, but then again, who knew what new enemies they might have made over the course of their conflicts?He had no tomes handy, but he knew he could summon up some dark magic if need be, and at worst he could shout for some guards. Secure in that knowledge, he called into the air: “Who’s there?”A few moments passed, before the timid reply came: “Father?”He relaxed completely, eliciting protests from muscles that were having to do unexpected work. He walked up onto the palace walls to find Noire leaning over the battlements, looking like a guilty child, one hand closed in a tight fist. He smiled, and touched her face lightly.“Good to know I’m not the only one who prefers wandering to feasting,” he said.She nodded and attempted to smile. “I guess we each have our own ways of celebrating?”He wasn’t sure if that was a statement or a question, so he settled for nodding back. It was probably the latter, anyway; definitive statements were not something Noire tended towards, as a rule. He leaned over the battlements himself, gazing over the lights of Ylisstol. His eyes flickered to his daughter’s closed fist, but he said nothing. Something was different about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The silence dragged on for several long minutes.“Father,” Noire said finally. “Are you… happy?”The question startled him so much that he stood up straight and turned to look at her. She was staring at him, her face a strange mixture of nervousness and apologetic defiance.“Why do you ask?” he said, hoping wildly that she wouldn’t spot his blatant ducking of the question. Hoping in vain, judging by the look on her face.“All day, you’ve been… distant. Even Morgan can’t seem to get through to you. Shouldn’t you be more triumphant? You’ve just won an astounding victory. You saved the world.”He shook his head. “I didn’t save the world. I only planned how it would be saved. And in the end, I didn’t even…” He trailed off, cursing himself for speaking without thinking for once. Noire said nothing, but looked down at her closed fist.After taking a moment to collect himself, he looked at her wryly. “Shouldn’t the same go for you? More so, in fact. You’ve been fighting this battle your entire life. I didn’t even know about Grima until a matter of months ago. And you’re just as much a part of his bloodline as I am.”Noire gave a start, and tensed up. She slowly began to relax after a moment, though still staring down at her feet. Finally she said: “I guess we’re both… hard to please.”Robin smiled. “Looks that way.”Noire looked over at him tentatively. “You know… no-one blames you. For… you know… what you chose.”“I know.”“No-one wanted to… to lose you.”“Obviously,” he said, more harshly than he’d intended. “But sometimes sacrifices need to made for the greater good. A tactician who doesn’t understand that is no tactician at all.”“FOOLISH FATHER!” Noire’s transformation was, as ever, so sudden that Robin actually fell over in surprise. She towered over him as he stared up at her from the floor. “YOUR CONCEPT OF ‘SACRIFICE’ IS MEANINGLESS TO THOSE WHO LOVE YOU! YOU ARE ALLOWING YOUR PRIDE TO OVERRIDE ALL OTHER CONCERNS!” She gave a start as she reverted to normal, and gasped to see her father on the ground. “Oh my gods… I’m so terribly sorry… I didn’t mean…”She extended a hand to help him up, but he shook his head and pulled himself up. Once up, he smiled at her. “Don’t worry. I’m getting used to it.” He stared out at the city. “Besides… maybe you had a point.”Noire leaned over the battlements next to him. “Maybe you did too, father. I mean, maybe any tactician would have made that choice. But… who says you need to be a tactician anymore?”He stared at her in shock. “What do you mean? I am a tactician. That’s… who I’ve always been. I mean, to a given value of “always”, admittedly, but…”Noire smiled gently. “That’s who you decided to be, yes. But everyone has the freedom to make a different choice. To change who they are.”She opened her fist to reveal her talisman. With a jolt, he realised that that was what had been bothering him about her. For the first time since he’d met her, it wasn’t dangling around her neck. As he watched, wide-eyed, she extended her arm over the battlements, and slowly let the talisman fall. It twisted as it fell, as if reacting to its rejection, then vanished into the darkness below.He stared into that darkness for what must have been a couple of minutes, before turning to his daughter, a mute question in his eyes. She was still smiling.“It’s done its work,” she said. “I… I got through everything. And I can’t deny that it’s at least partly thanks to that thing. But… now I have to go my own way. Mother’s been insistent for months about me ‘drawing on my own power’. She means in terms of battle, but I… I don’t think that’s all I have to work on.”He nodded slowly. “You’ve got a chance at happiness now. You have to seize it. And you can’t do that while living in fear of yourself.”“Exactly!” She looked surprised. “How could I live properly if I might suddenly scream in people’s faces at any moment? How could I…” She trailed off, looking suddenly embarrassed.“Father! Noire! Here you are!” Before Robin could enquire further, a familiar voice sounded from behind them, on the ground. They turned to see Morgan waving energetically, as though they would somehow fail to spot her standing in an otherwise deserted courtyard a few feet away.“Why did you leave? Everyone’s been asking after you.”Robin and Noire exchanged a look. “Everyone?”“Well, a lot of people. Well, a few people. Well, me.” She glanced away, before looking back with renewed enthusiasm. “So what happened? Did some terrible threat arise outside?”“Not as such,” said Robin, smiling despite himself. “We just… needed a break, I think. I didn’t even realise Noire was out here myself.”Morgan nodded vigorously. “Right, I get it. Don’t want to get caught up in the celebration. You need time for contemplation, so you can look back over what you’ve done. Learn from it.”“Did I teach you that?”“Who else would have?”Who indeed? That was something that had occurred to him again and again in the last months. Here he was, at the age of… well, he didn’t exactly know, but he couldn’t be older than thirty. And here were these teenagers, these grown women, suddenly turning up and looking to him as a parental figure. The same parental figure who had been absent for most of Noire’s life, after whom Morgan had slavishly styled herself. He was, to all intents and purposes, shouldering the familial burdens of a version of himself who had been more susceptible to the darkness that ran in his blood. And somehow, that had never really bothered him.It was amazing how quickly it had happened. Morgan had been unmistakeably his flesh and blood, even from a distance, but even Noire had required no more than a few seconds of eye contact for some deep-rooted instinct to identify her as his daughter. After that, it had been easy. He knew he didn’t need to look out for them in battle (though he did anyway, of course), and they were an enormous help around camp. One was gregarious, the other diligent. But most of all, everything just seemed… simpler with them around. As though they were what it all boiled down to. What was the fate of nations compared to the well-being of his children?And of course that had been the problem, in the end. When the time had finally come to strike Grima down, he had been fully prepared for what needed to be done. He had raised a bolt of Thoron high, ready to strike them both down at once. And then a stray gust of wind had spoiled everything. Just for a moment, the flapping of a coat had invaded his peripheral vision. A coat he knew well. A reminder of what he was leaving behind. And, just like that, he had faltered. Without even turning to look at Morgan, he had taken a step back, and then another. Perhaps he might have recovered his resolve, given a few more seconds, but Chrom had been too fast for him, and he was as unutterably glad of that as he was ashamed that it had happened.But Noire was right. Life went on. And even if that had been counter to the original plan, what kind of tactician was he if he couldn’t adapt to the circumstances in which he found himself?He realised that Morgan had climbed up onto the wall next to him, on the other side from her sister, while he had been lost in reflection. She caught his eye, and smiled, as Noire silently laid her head on his shoulder. Morgan took his hand and snuggled in against his chest as the three of them gazed out into the night sky shining with stars.When Tharja found them a couple of hours later, they were asleep under a tree, all cuddled together so tightly that they seemed to be inextricable. A smile flashed across her face – the kind only her husband and children would ever see, and even then only rarely – before she turned around to inform the others that, no, she hadn’t seen them, and perhaps everyone should search the other end of the palace instead?Robin awoke with the dawn, but didn’t move for a couple of hours, until Morgan and Noire too stirred awake. After all, he had earned a rest.
|
10097162
|
Midnights Call
|
{
"Archive Warning": null,
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by Lissy [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "6/6",
"completed": "2011-11-21",
"published": "2011-05-27T00:00:00",
"words": "21,995",
"Additional Tags": "Slash sex, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Drama, Romance",
"Relationship": "Harry Potter/Other(s)",
"Character": "Harry Potter",
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": "Underage Sex, Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Prologue – Aftermath
“The darkest night is often the bridge to the brightest tomorrow.”
/Embry/\Harry\
Harry had never felt more trapped in his life. Though ever since a young age he was locked in his cupboard or his room, it all seemed like nothing compared to being trapped within his memories. Every time he closed his eyes, Harry was plagued with everything he’d had to do to ensure that he would win the war. The quest for the Horcruxes, being on the run, seeing many loved ones fall victim to that terrible green light at the Battle of Hogwarts, everything. It all flashed so vividly, and he flinched at some of the more gruesome things he’d experienced.His heart clenched as the image of several loved ones came up, their bright eyes so dull and lifeless as they laid on the floor next to other fallen victims of the war. Heartache turned to anger, as it often did; anger at Snape, for having been on the Light side the entire time; anger at Dumbledore, for keeping him in the dark for so damn long; anger at Remus, for getting himself killed when he’d just had a baby boy, Teddy, nearly two months prior; and anger at Voldemort for having continued this pointless war over something as foolish as blood purity.Most of the anger Harry felt, however, was directed at himself. Things he could have done differently along with predicted outcomes flashed in his mind like a silent, black-and-white film. If only he’d had all of the information from the beginning, so many things wouldn’t have happened. Sirius never would have died that night in the Department of Mysteries, Cedric would probably still be alive, he could’ve discovered a way to stop Dumbledore from dying.None of that mattered, though. When it all boiled down, one fact remained: the war was over, and he couldn’t do anything to change the past.Knocking at his door brought Harry out of his thoughts. Not many people knew where he’d chosen to hide himself. With the Dursleys out of his life, he didn’t have to ever return to Number 4 Privet Drive, not that he’d wanted to. Instead, after he woke from a week long coma due to magical exhaustion, Harry had marched to Gringotts, claimed his inheritance, and fled to one of the remote cottages his parents had owned. He, of course, had to leave his address to somebody, and those that had it had agreed to give him time to mourn those he lost. A month had passed and, though the pain hadn’t lessened in intensity, it was becoming much easier to deal with. Still, he just wasn’t quite ready to face the world and the aftermath of the war’s outcome.Harry glanced at the peephole before opening the door. He gave the older woman a small smile. “Hello, Andromeda,” he murmured softly.Andromeda Tonks née Black returned the smile, but he noticed it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hello, Harry,” she replied just as quietly. “May I come in? It is urgent that I speak with you.”He’d opened the door and stepped aside before she even finished talking. “Of course you can.”Harry led her to his modest living room before disappearing into the kitchen to make tea. Nervousness crept into his stomach and he hesitantly brushed it away. His hands make quick work of locating his teapot and he absentmindedly reached above to grab the tea bags from the cabinet. He didn’t really want to ponder over what Andromeda had to say and work himself up into a state. Rather, he’d let her say her piece and then react when he crossed said bridge.Placing biscuits he’d made yesterday on a tray, Harry loaded the finished tea and made his way into his living room. It was decorated much like Privet Drive had been, and it pained Harry in a rather amusing way to see that his mother and aunt had shared similar decorating tastes. He didn’t have the heart to change the awkwardly placed wallpaper and odd furniture. Funny, how his aunt, who had always tried so hard to be normal and different from her sister, was more alike Lily than maybe even she’d known…“What is it that you need to speak with me about?” Harry asked, quick and to the point. He handed her a funky orange teacup.She accepted it almost solemnly, gazing into her tea sadly before taking a sip. “I thought I could do it,” she whispered, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “I really thought I could, and Merlin knows I want to, but it’s so hard, Harry…”Harry stared at her, alarmed. “What’re you talking about?” he asked softly.Andromeda looked up, tears running down her face. “He has an odd mix of Remus and Nymphadora’s talents,” she told him. “I can’t—there isn’t a day that goes by where I look at him changing his hair color and think about how Nymphadora used to do that, or how my daughter should be the one seeing such an occurrence. Teddy’s so like you, Harry.”He involuntarily winced at that. She hadn’t meant anything by it, just comparing godfather and godson, but the reminder that Teddy was an orphan like him still stung. “What do you plan on doing?” he asked, feeling like a frog had made its home in his throat.Andromeda wiped away her tears as gracefully as she could. “I need you to take him, Harry,” she said softly. “I can feel my magic, my soul, getting weaker each day. As much as I love my grandson, it is becoming a chore to continue on. I don’t know how much more I can take.”They were silent for a while as Andromeda finished her tea with shaking hands. Harry let his go cold, much like he was feeling on the inside. Teddy would have no one left after Andromeda’s magic drained from her being—nobody but Harry. It wasn’t much, in Harry’s opinion, but having his godfather take care of Teddy had to be better than his next closest kin—the Malfoys.“Where is he?” Harry asked, nibbling on the edge of one of the biscuits.Andromeda looked into his eyes, and Harry noticed how sunken hers were becoming. “He is with the Weasleys now,” she murmured softly.Harry nodded. “I’ll go get him, then,” he said quietly.He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, or how to take care of and raise a child, but if he could defeat Voldemort, surely he could take custody of his godson. His heart pounded furiously, but Harry kept his shoulders squared and chin up. He imagined Sirius, if he’d been able to, would have done the same thing in his shoes, and that thought alone gave him a little more confidence.He accepted the custody papers Andromeda passed him and read over. His heart ached at the sight of Andromeda’s signature, waiving her rights as Teddy’s guardian and handing them over to Harry. Knowing that this would be the best course of action and actually following through with it still hurt even though Teddy would benefit from the change in guardianship.“Thank you,” Andromeda said simply.Harry nodded his head. “Will you like to say goodbye?”Andromeda bit her lip before she shook her head. “I’ve already said my goodbyes. I’d just like to join my family now.”Harry nodded again, understanding though he still couldn’t stop the pain in his heart. He sat there, frozen, as she stood, kissed his forehead one last time, and left the cottage. He didn’t know how long he let the numbness consume him, but eventually he remembered that he was now the guardian to an infant and stumbled out the door, his hair covering his stupid scar and facing the ground. He walked quickly into the small Muggle town, thankful for the night shadowing his appearance.Wand poised in the air, Harry summoned the Knight Bus, asked to be taken to the Burrow, and didn’t bother making small conversation with the shrunken head or a recently freed Stan Shunpike (who had taken it upon himself to gush about Harry Potter saving him from Azkaban, ignorant that his hero was sitting in front of him). He took the relatively short ride to St. Ottery Catchpole in a contemplative silence. If he were to raise Teddy correctly, he needed to think things thoroughly.His first thought was living arrangements. As much as he adored his parents’ cozy yet tackily decorated cottage, it wouldn’t do to raise a child. Probably when Teddy was still small, but what about when the boy grew up? The tiny, one-bedroom abode wouldn’t quite do. Besides, Harry was a celebrity. His name was widely known and, now that he was the Savior and not just the Chosen One, such titles made him widely sought-after. How many people would stalk him when they found out he was raising his godson? How many enemies would try to use Teddy to get to him? How could he protect the tiny life Remus, Tonks, and Andromeda had entrusted to him?Harry already knew the answer; he had to leave Britain.If he were honest with himself, Harry had already been thinking about leaving the damned country for quite some time. Originally, he’d wanted to travel the world. His plans had been simple. Travel to new countries, absorb the culture and possibly the language, live the rest of his days in peace. He wouldn’t be able to travel until Teddy was older, but that was okay. Teddy was more important.“The Burrow, St. Ottery Catchpole,” Stan announced dully.Harry nodded his thanks and left, taking the short walk to the Weasley residence. Before the war, he’d loved visiting the Burrow and just enjoying his summers lazily playing Quidditch in the backyard. Now, though, with the loss of Fred, the Burrow had—and rightfully so—taken a rather somber attitude. They were mourning, and Harry didn’t fault them. Fred was amazing and dearly missed. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for George. The two had been together since inside the womb, had done everything together.How does one really go on living when half of yourself is dead?“Harry?”Harry paused and turned. Ginny smiled and waved him over, patting the spot next to her on the bench. Mr. Weasley had liked the way Muggles decorated their houses and decided to refurbish everything himself. He’d installed a bird bath in the front of the Burrow, a pond in the back just by the garden, and benches along the sides of the house. Several tacky lawn ornaments also found its way in the front of the Burrow, and Harry always smiled amusedly at the pink flamingos and short dwarves. It was especially amusing when the garden gnomes declared war over the inanimate objects and tried to use guerilla tactics to take out their fake enemies.“What are you doing out here?” Harry asked Ginny, graciously sitting down.Ginny smiled and looked at the sky. “Thinking,” she said softly.Harry followed her gaze, awed at the stars twinkling above them. “I have custody of Teddy now,” he murmured.Ginny’s warm eyes glanced at him. “At least he has you,” she said simply.He appreciated her lack of comments. “I can’t raise him in Britain.”Ginny laughed softly. It held a swirl of emotions; sadness, acceptance, appreciation, and love. “I figured it out when Andromeda dropped him off earlier,” she said, still staring at the stars. “I knew it was coming; she practically lost everybody in the war. Her husband, her daughter, her son-in-law, her sisters. I could see what her magic was doing to her; it was only a matter of time before she went to you. I knew you’d take Teddy.”Harry nodded his head, though she couldn’t see it. He hesitantly took a hold of her hand and curled his larger one around it. She squeezed it gently, accepting the gesture. “You always were a smart girl,” he said quietly.Ginny nodded her head. She finally ripped her gaze from the ethereal sky and looked at him. Tears welled in her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. “You’ve changed,” she whispered. He jerked, but she used her other hand to grab his chin and make him face her. “Not in a bad way, Harry. Rather, you’ve changed, and so have your needs. I can’t give you what you need anymore, and I can accept that Harry.”Harry didn’t quite know what to say. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. He didn’t like it when she cried, and gently wiped away a stray tear.Ginny smiled. “You need someone stronger,” she said softly. “Someone strong enough to handle this new war-hero-you and love Teddy. I understand. I wish you good luck, and I hope you can be happy.”Relief flooded him, and he felt his heart grow a little warmer at her words. That was why it’d been so easy to fall for her. She was understanding and compassionate and he wasn’t the one to make her feel like the special woman she was. Harry leaned forward, pressing a small kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You’ll find someone,” he said with a small smile. “And I’ll always be here for you.”Ginny laughed, wiping away the rest of her tears. “Come on,” she said brightly, no evidence of her tearful epiphany. “You need to get Teddy.”They stood and walked inside the Burrow. Noise erupted around them. “Harry! It’s so good to see you, mate!” Ron said as he thumped his hand on Harry’s back hard.Harry gave him a small smile. “Good to see you too,” he said quietly though no less enthusiastic. It really was good to see his friends. Even though the time alone was much needed and appreciated, he did somewhat miss human contact.Mrs. Weasley smiled at him, her eyes crinkled and the aging lines on her face more prominent. “Harry, good to see you,” she said, patting his face as she kissed his cheek. Her expression became more serious. “Teddy’s here.”Harry nodded his head somewhat sharply. “I know. Andromeda’s already told me, and I’ve already got the paperwork done.”Mrs. Weasley sighed. “I knew you would,” she replied. “Honorable man, that you are.”A few years ago, he would’ve ducked his head and flushed at her words. Now he nodded and looked around the room for his orphaned godson. “Where is Teddy?” he asked when he couldn’t see him.Mrs. Weasley motioned towards the stairs. “In George’s room asleep,” she answered quietly. “Are you leaving?”There was no point in denying it. “Yes,” he said, nodding his head.Mrs. Weasley’s smile turned somewhat sad. “You know you’ll always have a place here with us.”“I know,” Harry said warmly. “But I can’t raise Teddy in Britain where everyone and their mother will be watching my every move.”Mrs. Weasley laughed. “Yes, I know that.” She walked over to the kitchen table and grabbed a slip of paper. “Hermione was here earlier when Andromeda delivered Teddy. She’s already researched a list of places you might be interested in.”Harry accepted the paper thankfully, happy that he had such great friends and sad that he would be leaving behind said important people. “I’m sure I’ll need advice about Teddy,” he said conversationally. “Will you keep the Floo open?”Mrs. Weasley lightly smacked his arm. “As if you need to ask,” she admonished. She became a little serious once more. “We’ve noticed some things about Teddy while he was here.”Worry consumed him briefly. “Is he alright? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”Mrs. Weasley waved away his frantic questions dismissively. “He’s fine,” she was quick to assure. “It isn’t necessarily bad, but we did discover some things that you need to be privy to.”“What?” Harry asked curiously.“Well, it seems like Teddy inherited some of his father’s…wolfish traits,” Mrs. Weasley said delicately after a moment’s hesitation. “Hermione and Poppy seem to think he’ll have the ability to shift into a wolf at will in a few years time.”Harry blinked before he snorted in amusement. “If he can deal with his godfather being a magnet to all sorts of trouble, I can most definitely deal with my godson being a sort of natural animagus.”Ron laughed quietly at his words, though the laughter was somewhat strained. “When are you leaving?”“As soon as possible,” Harry replied.Ron nodded, expecting the answer but still somewhat put down by it. It was like losing a brother all over again. “Hermione and I will expect a call on that Muggle contraption every week,” he said somewhat sharply.Harry grinned. “I know,” he replied. The trapped feeling that had been suffocating him for the past two months eased. Harry found himself a step closer on the path to moving on after the war. Perhaps Teddy would be as good for him as he is for the tiny baby.“I was wondering when you’d show up, mate.”Harry nodded his head in greeting to George who had a sleeping Teddy in his arms. “How long has he been sleeping?”“Since he was dropped off a few hours ago,” George responded, cradling the infant close to his chest. He caught sight of the papers in Harry’s hand and grinned. “Your fans will not be pleased,” he sing-songed.Harry snorted. “That’s why I’m leaving. Stalkers, the lot of them.”“Have you chosen a place yet?” George asked curiously.Harry glanced at the photos and information bits on the paper. Hermione certainly had been very thorough. He flipped through them, reading before dismissing some of the places. They just didn’t feel right. Harry couldn’t quite explain it, but he knew when he saw the place, it was going to be home.He paused at the picture of a beautiful, plush forest. There was a roomy-looking cottage hidden in the protection of nature. If Teddy really would have the ability to transform into a wolf at will, he would certainly need a place to run. He flipped through more pictures, his satisfactory smile widening. This place would be perfect. He caught sight of a beach and, for a moment, Harry could’ve swarm gold flickered into his vision followed by a sleek grey wolf with black spots. Blinking and shaking his head, Harry looked back at the Weasleys. The present red-heads looked at him expectantly.“Forks,” he said softly. “We’ll be moving to Forks, Washington.”George nodded solemnly. “Looks nice,” he commented as he glanced at the picture of the beach at La Push.Harry opened his mouth to reply when a tiny groan captured his attention. He hesitated for a moment before he grabbed an awakening Teddy. The infant yawned widely, making Harry smile. The yawn was quickly followed by a piercing wail. Mrs. Weasley immediately bustled towards the kitchen to fetch a bottle for the child, and Harry was given a crash course on taking care of small children.He spent the remainder of the evening learning about how to take care of Teddy and spending time with the people he’d grown to consider family. Mr. Weasley came home from work shortly after Hermione returned from visiting her parents who, though they remembered her, had decided to stay in Australia. They all knew he was leaving and, though it wasn’t quite goodbye, a considerable amount of time would pass before they would see him again.When Harry finally left with promises of keeping in contact, he smiled at the content child in his arms. He would make sure Teddy had the life he’d never had the privilege of having.Feeling lighter, Harry returned to his cottage to pack the remainder of his belongings. The next day, he began the process of privately purchasing the cottage and securing paperwork that made him a legal American citizen (Thanks Hermione, he thought).He was out of the country within a week, more than ready to start a new life with his godson safe with him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: Just when he thought his life couldn't get more complicated after awakening the shifter gene, Embry imprints on a black wolf who was unlucky enough to attract the attention of Victoria. Embry/Harry.
((This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.))
Chapter 1 – Eight Years Later
“In youth we learn; in age we understand.”
/Embry/\Harry\
THE S.P.M.C.W.’S EQUALITY ACT OF 2006 PASSES IN A LANDSLIDEWritten by: Thelma JonesSunday, February 12, 2006
The S.P.M.C.W., or the Society for the Promotion of Magical Creature Welfare, founded by Hermione Weasley, has earned yet another victory. Over the past few months following their latest bold proposal, the Wizengamot has been deliberating over the Equality Act of 2006 very carefully and has finally reached a decision.
“It is this judicial body’s duty to ensure that our fellow citizens are protected, even from our own laws, despite any differences,” Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt declared at the press conference just after the ruling. “Magical creatures should have never been subjected to the grossly demeaning and discriminatory laws passed by former authority figures. Regardless of their non-human status, they are citizens of Wizarding Britain and have the same rights as any other witch or wizard in this country.”
Winning with an outstanding thirty-nine out of fifty votes, the Equality Act of 2006 has been passed and will come into effect immediately. The S.P.M.C.W. feels very accomplished over this latest win. “This should have been done ages ago,” Hermione Weasley, founder of the organization and current Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, stated. “The purpose of the previously harsh laws concerning magical creatures was based on nothing more than old prejudiced views that have been long outdated. It has been proven that recently considered dark creatures are not so different than your average witch or wizard when it comes to basic instincts and values. They are unable to live peaceful lives because of our ignorant beliefs, and that needs to be stopped.”
Former Minister Fudge, 1990-1996, had won much support from the Wizarding public with his harsh laws against many “dark” creatures such as vampires and werewolves in his first year in office. Notorious creatures such as Fenrir Greyback and Lady Carmilla Sanguina had further unintentionally aided Fudge in his declaration that all magical creatures were blood thirsty savages with the desire to prey on the youth. Many previous ministers have also taken this stance and have for the past seventy-seven years.
Weasley retaliates, “You cannot punish an entire group of people for the shortcomings of one. If that were true, why haven’t wizards been severely punished for Lords Grindelwald and Voldemort?”
Current Chief Witch of the Wizengamot, Augusta Longbottom, supports the Equality Act of 2006. “This will improve the affairs between magical creatures and wizardkind,” states Longbottom.
Ronald Weasley, Head of the Auror Office, agreed, “With the improvement of the interactions between wizards and those with non-human blood, we expect the crime rates concerning the supposed “Dark” creatures will steadily decline. Research over the last nine years has proven that because of the laws limiting their freedom and rights, magical creatures had retaliated out of desperation and protection seven times out of ten. Like Harry Potter said before, most of the magical creatures that fought on You-Know-Who’s side did so because they had nothing else to lose. You-Know-Who, the worst Dark Lord of all time, had promised them freedom of prejudices and fear. He promised them the right to live their lives; a right wizards never had the power or authority to take away.”
For more information on the Equality Act of 2006, see page 4.
For more information on the S.P.M.C.W., see page 5.
For the opposition’s rebuttal, see page 6.
Harry smiled fondly and put down the Daily Prophet feeling particularly pleased. He remembered Hermione blabbering on and on about developing S.P.E.W. as if it was only yesterday, and was happy with her latest victory. Eleven years of advocating for the better treatment of those with non-human heritage had finally paid off.Hermione had opened her eyes wide enough to realize that the House Elves actually enjoyed the servitude they were born into. They weren’t all mistreated and needed the magic only a wizarding family could provide. She hadn’t realized before that her actions, which she’d considered just and right, were taken as her insulting the entire race of House Elves. Other magical creatures, however, hadn’t enjoyed their rights being stripped away. This led to the birth of the revised organization with Harry being somewhat of a silent partner, offering some funding and advice on ways to go about proposing certain laws since Hermione had a tendency to forcefully shove facts down people’s throats.Harry took a sip of his tea. Everything had changed so much over the last eight years. Wizarding Britain had become a much better place, and Harry was slightly surprised to admit to himself that he missed it. When he left, it was still a mockery of a community. They’d allowed the libel and slander of a minor, passed ridiculous laws, and had a grossly incompetent judicial system. It was flawed, severely, and they hadn’t seemed to have a problem with it.The war, however, seemed to have a great influence on the Hogwarts graduating class of ‘98. Hermione had thrust herself into the world of politics and fought tooth and nail to improve the world she fell in love with at the tender age of eleven, consequently dragging a bemused and befuddled Ron Weasley with her. Climbing the political ladder had been particularly grueling given her Muggleborn status and the prejudice still infecting the system, but with Shacklebolt as Minister of Magic and Harry giving her permission (in writing with a bit of his magical signature for verification) to take his seats in the Wizengamot, she’d been able to make a difference. The (Potter) voting power she had allowed her to show the world her amazing research skills and gave her the authority to propose new laws, which she’d done in the name of the S.P.M.C.W.The entire Ministry had undergone a massive clean-up and became a respected body of power. Granted, it took them a long time to get there, but it was better late than never. Harry snorted. He’d partly been the reason the Ministry had changed. Despite being fully aware of how the Wizarding world would react when he left Britain, he hadn’t exactly anticipated how strongly their protests would be.Two weeks after he began settling into his life with his godson, he received a copy of the corrupt and sycophantic Daily Prophet. His move was not taken well at all (which was a massive understatement) and the writers felt they were justly angry and furious at the abandonment of their savior. Luckily Minister Shacklebolt had had the foresight to hide the custody papers concerning Teddy or the public outrage would have been worse. Harry didn’t mind taking the brunt of ignorant anger as long as Teddy’s safety wasn’t compromised.Of course, it had still irked him that the public actually believed that he belonged to them. It was like they staked a claim on him; like he was a possession. Harry set them straight very quickly. He had Hermione research privacy laws and in no less than two weeks, Harry was suing the Daily Prophet for all of the slander and libel he’d been subjected to. His sharp, scathing letter to the Wizarding public would have made Snape proud.Harry smirked. They hadn’t been able to pay him enough to repair the years of abuse he’d endured, so they settled. He now owned the Daily Prophet and a large amount of gold, enabling him to live comfortably for several decades as well as spoil Teddy with toys he’d never been able to receive as a child. With that ownership came freedom from the lies that stirred the public into a rage, and it allowed him some room to breathe. His letter had also nudged Minister Shacklebolt to begin cleaning up the entire pathetic system and the public, thoroughly cowed, didn’t protest too much.Harry finished his tea and stood gracefully. He stretched and looked out the window, checking on Teddy who was happily playing in the snow in front of their cottage. He smiled softly. Taking care of his godson had been difficult at first. Teddy for the first six months or so suffered from colic and Harry, though he was used to not sleeping very well or long at night, was not used to a tiny baby screaming his lungs out in pain. The first time it happened, he immediately Flooed Mrs. Weasley, babbling about his poor godson being terminally ill and how he was unable to comfort him in the slightest.The Weasley matriarch, of course, laughed at his worries and handed him several baby books as well as instructing him on methods to help Teddy whilst reminiscing of Percy going through the same thing.The door opened and Teddy ran inside, shedding snow-covered clothing off as he made his way into the kitchen. “I’m cold,” the little boy complained, his cheeks flushed a pleasant pink.Harry grinned. “Well, since you’ve been outside in the snow for nearly an hour, I’d say you have good reason to be,” he replied, tone fairly blasé.“Uncle Harry,” Teddy whined, pouting ever-so-slightly. “Can I have some tea? And some soup to warm up?”Harry looked at him pointedly. “I don’t know. Can you?”Teddy rolled his eyes. “May I have some tea and soup?”Harry nodded his head, satisfied. “I will start making it, but your clothes do not belong on the hallway floor. And you might as well bathe and change into some warm jammies.”Teddy had the decency to look sheepish before nodding his head and disappearing to do as he was told. Harry chuckled and set to work. His godson had grown in the span of a few days, or so it seemed. He could still remember the mischievous toddler flinging his mushy peas at the wall with his tiny nose scrunched in distaste. Now his godson was seven years old, eight in two months, and it seemed like he didn’t really need his Uncle Harry anymore.There weren’t really any monsters hiding in his closet anymore. Only silly five year olds believed that nonsense, and Teddy was a big kid.There wasn’t any need to leave the hallway light on. Only four year olds were scared of the dark.There wasn’t any need to read him a bedtime story. Only babies and little kids couldn’t read themselves.His Teddy was growing up so quickly, and Harry didn’t feel like he was twenty-six. A large part of him still felt like he was eighteen and clueless when it came to children. He’d learned a lot raising Teddy, but the one thing he couldn’t (or perhaps it was wouldn’t) learn was letting go.Granted, Teddy was still too young to be let go of fully, but that didn’t stop Harry from trying to shelter him somewhat. It wasn’t until he became a parent (sort of) that Harry fully understood why Mrs. Weasley worried all the time. Having lived through a war, it gave him a more-than-healthy dose of paranoia and fear. Harry didn’t want Teddy to experience any of that. He didn’t want Teddy to be shunned by children who wouldn’t understand why he had to live with his uncle. He didn’t want Teddy to come home from school crying because everybody else got to make mother’s day and father’s day cards, and Teddy didn’t have a mummy or a daddy to give them to. Harry wanted to shelter Teddy from all of it.When he told Mrs. Weasley of his fears, she’d smiled softly and patted his face as she said, “You can’t protect him from everything.”That confused him more than anything. She herself had tried so hard to protect her own children, as well as himself, from almost everything, it’d seemed. Now when he wanted those pearls of wisdom concerning the safety of a tiny life entrusted to him, she wanted him to sort of ease up? Were people even allowed to have such a drastic change of perspective?“Are you really Molly Weasley?” he’d demanded, eyes narrowed somewhat suspiciously.Mrs. Weasley had laughed. “I know it’s odd advice coming from me. However, take a moment to think about it. I tried my best to protect all of my children from everything in the world that might hurt them, and do you know what happened? The more I tried to shelter, the more my children walked towards danger. Bill got a job as a curse breaker, Charlie decided to tame dragons, you and Ron were always off on some wild adventure. Protecting your children is not synonymous with keeping them from experiencing life, and it took me quite some time to remember that lesson.”She was right, of course. He couldn’t protect Teddy from everything out there, and Teddy’s life wouldn’t be nearly as exciting or exuberant if he was sheltered from everything.It was that final thought that pushed Harry to enroll Teddy in public school. His original excuse to keep Teddy home-schooled had been because of the little boy’s uncontrollable Metamorphmagus abilities. With his hair changing colors with the slightest shift in his emotions, Harry couldn’t let him attend a school full of Muggles. His first thought was to use a potion to somehow hide his Metamorphmagus powers, but to Harry’s dismay the only potions available to somehow alter one’s appearance were invented by a Metamorphmagus. Glamour charms, cosmetic potions and spells, they all were created to mimic a Metamorphmagus’ ability to alter appearance.The only good thing that had come out of that was the decision to home school Teddy. It seemed like a good way to make sure Teddy got both a Muggle and magical education as well as keep a close eye on the little boy in his care. It also made Hermione happy since Harry had to catch up on his own lacking education from both worlds in order to meet Washington state’s home schooling requirements.It had also gave Harry something to do other than watch Teddy all the time. He didn’t really have any friends in America, and the ones he did have back home had lives. The problem with home schooling Teddy was how lonely the little boy had become. He would beg to be let out of the house every day, and when he was allowed, it was only as far as the front of the house. Harry had set up wards around the perimeter to prevent strange people coming onto the property as well as wards to make sure Teddy couldn’t wander off. The once-in-a-few-months trips to the Weasley house during someone’s birthday didn’t give Teddy nearly enough time to socialize with other children.Harry realized that he, in a way, was raising Teddy the way he’d been raised. He didn’t force Teddy into manual labor or neglect or verbally abuse him, but keeping the small child isolated didn’t do much good either. The realization had weighed his heart down and when Teddy begged again to go the playground with other children, Harry nearly cried. It was never his intention to hurt Teddy; he’d only meant to try to protect the small boy.In that moment, Harry understood Dumbledore more than he’d ever planned or wanted to…The problem was soon fixed, however, when after months of grueling practice, Teddy was able to control when he changed his hair color just in time to enroll in second grade. He had a few slips, of course, but the issues in controlling his powers were barely noticeable to the untrained eye.With Teddy out of the house almost the entire day, Harry nearly worried himself to death and constantly glanced at the clock where Teddy’s hour hand rested on school and minute hand rested on happy. Hermione had suggested he find a hobby or a lover, but since Teddy was and would always be his first priority, Harry decided to take the former advice.As a result, the outside of his house looked amazing. He had a green thumb and his flowerbeds were proof. Gardening, however, wasn’t enough to keep the war hero occupied and he instead decided to try different forms of art. It turned out Teddy was a much better painter than Harry could ever hope to be, but Harry didn’t mind too much. Of course, he’d been a little offended when Teddy offered to teach him how to paint like a pro (the cheeky little brat) but dabbing paint on the then six-year-old’s nose had been well worth the resulting paint fight. The living room never looked better, if he did say so himself.Finding a magical community was also rather difficult, so Harry ended up spending most of his time in his house like a hermit. American magic, it turned out, had strong Wiccan roots and didn’t support the use of a wand. While Harry was adept at quite a bit of wandless magic, he refused to do magic without his wand. It was ten inches long, made of oak, and had unicorn hair as its core. His new wand didn’t feel as perfect as his holly wand, which had been destroyed in the war, or as powerful as the Elder wand, which he returned to Dumbledore’s tomb, but it felt right enough.Finally annoyed with Harry’s whining about not having anything to do all day, Ron suggested he write a book about his troubles. It had been sarcastic, not meant to be taken seriously at all. However, Harry had blinked, thought about it, and decided to give it a try. He’d managed to publish four books under a pen name, and Harry could honestly say he was quite content with what he did. He certainly didn’t need the money, considering the fact that he’d inherited enough to live off of and he also had all that money from the Daily Prophet, but earning the money selling books he’d worked really hard on felt better than using money he felt he didn’t deserve.“Uncle Harry, I don’t feel so good,” Teddy mumbled from the doorway.Harry snapped out of his thoughts and walked briskly towards his godson, placing a hand on the flushed cheeks. “Well, perhaps you stayed out a tad longer than you should have,” he murmured contemplatively. “You’re a bit warm, but I’m sure some hot soup and a good night’s rest should cure you. Come along now. I’ll tuck you into bed and bring the soup up when it’s done.”Teddy frowned, disgruntled as Harry picked him up. “I’m not a baby,” he rasped, laying his head down on Harry’s shoulder. “I can walk by myself.”“You’ll always be my baby,” Harry retorted softly, holding his godson close and enjoying the smaller body pressed against his. He hadn’t been able to hold Teddy like this in quite some time since his adorable little godson was becoming a big, strong kid and, therefore, didn’t need any help doing anything. “Besides, do you really want to walk back up the stairs when you’re feeling so icky?”“Bad,” Teddy mumbled. “I’m feeling bad, Uncle Harry.”Harry sighed somewhat sadly. “Bad,” he amended.Teddy let out a breathless giggle, sounding sleepier by the second. “Fine, but don’t tell Kevin.”Harry rolled his eyes at the mention of Kevin Newton, Teddy’s best friend for a total of three weeks. He suspected the little boy probably had something to do with Teddy’s suddenly adamant beliefs that about how a boy should act, but he didn’t have anything concrete to say for sure. All he knew was that his little Teddy had been okay with private hugs and kisses, but almost a month ago (when he began to play with Kevin) he suddenly changed his mind and deemed all hugs and kisses girly and uncool.Harry’s first instinct was to keep the corrupting little twerp as far away from his godson as possible, but he had reminded himself that Kevin was also a child and that Teddy would have to learn some lessons on his own. Instead of locking Teddy in a box again, he would make sure to teach Teddy all the right lessons and show him how to draw his own conclusions.Because parenting, although very fulfilling and rewarding, was very much like a Quidditch game. He had to wait for the opposition to make their move and then plan to lessen that impact.At least, that’s how Ron best described it.Harry gently laid Teddy down in his bed and noted with surprise that the small boy had fallen asleep. He placed his hand on Teddy’s forehead again and nearly yelped at how hot it felt. Taking a deep breath to stop any panic threatening to take over, he calmly walked downstairs, turned off the soup, and retrieved Fever Reducers. He checked the wards before he went back to Teddy’s room, a routine habit that he had no plans of breaking.Without another thought, he grabbed a book from his room and went to Teddy’s, intent on watching over the small boy until the fever went down. He learned early to wait until he’d exhausted all methods of trying to heal Teddy before raising the alarm and panicking everyone back in Britain. His head had hurt for days after Hermione wacked him good for worrying her over a small fever that had went away in a few hours.Harry shuddered.Opening his book and preparing for a long night, Harry sat next to Teddy’s bed and began to read, ignorant of the body looming outside of the house.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 2 – Shifting and Imprinting
“Everything that happens has a reason behind it.”
/Embry/\Harry\
The heat emanating from Teddy’s forehead worried him. Harry frowned and grabbed a rag from his drawer. The Fever Reducer should have kicked in hours ago. Instead, Teddy’s fever rose to an alarming 106.5 degrees Fahrenheit and seemed like it would continue to rise. Normally the high temperature would have severely damaged a Muggle child, but Teddy’s magic was able to protect him from higher fevers. However, Harry didn’t doubt that eventually even Teddy’s magic wouldn’t be able to protect him from whatever was ailing him. This worry was more than enough to convince Harry to bring outside forces to help.Wetting the rag and placing it on Teddy’s forehead, Harry grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and called, “Harpy’s Palace,” into the fireplace before he stuck his head in. He smiled at the sight of the woman he used to be in love with bustling around her living room, moving in a manner that screamed Molly Weasley.Her auburn hair shone brilliantly in the sun filtering into the room. Soft, melodic sounds escaped her mouth as she hummed an old Muggle tune along with the old fashioned radio playing in the background. She’d grown over the last eight years from a teenager on the cusp of womanhood to one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She had curves in all the right places and flawless skin, at her prime and simply breath-taking. If Harry wasn’t interested in hard, sculpted muscles instead of soft flesh, he had no doubt they would’ve found a way to work things out.Alas, now wasn’t the time to think about that.“Haven’t seen those green eyes in a while,” Ginny commented when she finally spotted the head in her fireplace, quirking a smile and an eyebrow at Harry.The dark haired man smiled back, warmth entering his eyes. “I know,” he apologized, “and sadly this fire call isn’t personal. I need your help.”Ginny nodded. “And how may I be of assistance?”Harry hurriedly explained the problem, silently awed at how quickly the woman slipped into her professional mode. It had always been Ginny’s dream to be on a professional Quidditch team—ever since she was younger. However, the reality turned out differently than the fantasy. While she loved the game, Ginny wanted a family more than anything. With her constantly needing to travel, that was impossible. After five years and much deliberation, Ginny decided to retire from her position as Chaser on the Holyhead Harpies and use her hard-earned money to go to college.Ron bemoaned for days. “You’re the greatest female Chaser yet,” he’d complained. “Don’t give up the game now or you’ll be stuck in a boring office job like this one!”Hermione, of course, wacked her husband over the head and encouraged the slightly younger woman, “It’s an excellent idea, Ginny, and you have my full support.”As fate would have it, as Ginny played her last professional Quidditch game, she’d been hit with a bludger in the stomach. The tremendous impact, sad to say, caused enough damage that no magic could cure. She was forever robbed of the one ability she had decided to quit her career for—bearing children.When she woke from her medically induced coma and heard the news, Ginny shut down. No amount of comfort from her family could change her stoic expression. The light in her eyes had begun to slowly die day by day. Mrs. Weasley had coaxed her baby girl into moving back home until she could function normally, but that hadn’t been enough to keep an eye on Ginny. Instead, they rarely saw her at all. She stayed holed in her room for hours at a time and only left to eat meals when Mrs. Weasley herself dragged Ginny to the kitchen table.Harry heard about Ginny’s sterility nearly two weeks later. He and Teddy had been taking a small vacation in the Caribbean with no means of communication. The vacation served as a birthday present to Teddy and a tribute to his parents; Tonks and Remus had wanted to travel places during their much deserved happily ever after. Just because they couldn’t enjoy it didn’t mean they’d want Teddy to miss out on the adventures they would’ve had.“Ginny had an accident,” Hermione had said solemnly over the phone when he’d called to let her know the details. “Harry…she’s bad.”Without a moment’s hesitation, Harry had gathered Teddy in his arms and immediately Flooed to the Burrow. Teddy was placed in Mrs. Weasleys arms and he marched himself to Ginny’s room. It hadn’t changed much since she’d moved out the first time—a nice lilac color and very neat, so unlike Ron’s old room. He’d spotted her sitting on her bed, head bowed as she gazed blankly at a small book in her hands.He didn’t try to talk to her like Hermione had. The bookworm had been screamed at.He didn’t try to hug her like Mrs. Weasley had. The mother had been pushed away.He didn’t try to convince her that the game was the greatest she’d ever placed like Ron had. The insensitive man had earned himself a broken nose.Instead, Harry had sat and waited. Ginny would talk to him when she felt like it, and no sooner. At his presence, her position had relaxed considerably. Before he knew it, Ginny had all but flown at him, sobbing heavily into his shoulder. Without another thought, Harry had wrapped his arms around her and rocked her, listening to her broken words and mournful cries. He listened as she ranted about all of the other women in the world that didn’t deserve to be mothers just popping out babies, and that she had wanted one more than anything in the world. She had so wanted to be a mother, but that dream was ruthlessly murdered. Never would she be able to actually have a tiny life growing inside of her; there would be no more pregnancy scares. She would never experience the joy her mother had…never…When Ginny had calmed down enough, Harry had whispered soft encouraging words to her. “There are a ton of orphans in the world that need help,” he’d gently said. “Any of them would be lucky to have you as a mother.”She had shrugged her shoulders, not really caring. “I left Quidditch to have a family. It’s not possible now; not the way I want it to be.”Harry had wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb. “So do something about it.”That little statement had slowly transformed Ginny from the devastated woman back to her strong, independent self. She continued her plans to go to college and intensively studied the art of Healing. Currently, she was one of the best damn Healers Britain had ever seen. Just because she was physically incapable of birthing children didn’t mean she didn’t like caring for them.“Step aside,” Ginny said, already retrieving her medical bag and snapping Harry out of his musings.Harry smiled as she walked out of his fireplace only moments later, shaking her head to rid the fuzziness that accompanied International Floo travel. He hugged her briefly and placed the tiniest of kisses to her temple before leading her towards Teddy’s room. Ginny immediately walked over to the edge of Teddy’s bed, wand out and scanning the small boy with every spell in her arsenal. She frowned slightly, small lines appearing near her eyebrows.“Strange,” she murmured softly.“What is?” Harry wrung his hands nervously. Had he made a mistake in waiting before calling for help? Had he somehow irreparably helped damage Teddy?“Despite his high fever, Teddy doesn’t seem to have anything wrong with him. His body isn’t fighting anything foreign and his only other symptoms seem to be his muscles contracting. As a matter of fact, it seems like his body is doing some major work to become stronger, though I don’t know why,” Ginny explained. She hummed thoughtfully. “Hermione said something like this might happen…”“What did Hermione say exactly?” Harry asked curiously, feeling a little better that Teddy was actually somewhat okay.Ginny put away her wand and motioned for Harry to follow her. She’d only been in his cottage once before, but it seemed she still knew her way around. The red-haired woman walked into his kitchen as if it were her own and began making tea. The act seemed simple, yet it worried him a little. Ginny only made him tea when she had important, life-altering news to tell him. Last time, it’d been before they broke up and she had a pregnancy scare. Needless to say, Harry never trusted her making him tea ever again.“Drink,” Ginny said as she set the mug beside him.“Not quite sure if I trust it,” Harry murmured, eyeing the tea suspiciously.Ginny grinned. Her eyes took on a wry quality as she said, “While it isn’t bad news, I’m not sure it can necessarily be considered good news. Knowing you, you’d see some silver lining.”Harry sighed and sank onto his kitchen chair. He took a long sip of tea and nodded his head. “I’m ready for whatever beans you’re about to spill.”Ginny snorted. “Silly Americanisms,” she said playfully. Her expression quickly sobered up a few moments later. “Harry, as you know, Hermione has been doing some private research for a few years concerning Teddy. She was fascinated about him retaining only some qualities of his father’s lycanthropy. There were a few willing volunteers at the S.P.M.C.W. that helped her with her research.”Harry nodded. He already knew about all of this. “Mhm,” he hummed in agreement.“In the few cases where the child doesn’t fully inherit the parent’s lycanthropy, they become very ill as their body changes to accept the genes have been passed down. This varies age-wise and hasn’t happened very often. It looks like Teddy is the youngest so far.” Ginny stared at him, trying to gage his reaction.Harry stared at his cup of tea thoughtfully. “Okay,” he said slowly. “So…what? He’s becoming a stronger human? Is he still human?”“He is,” Ginny assured. She knew Harry didn’t particularly care, but even the improvements in the Wizarding world could completely rid it of its former prejudices. “He’s just got some wolfish aspects. From what I can see, his skin will become more resilient to nearly anything. Silver may still be a problem, but I don’t think you particularly want to figure that out at this point in time. Hermione also thinks he’ll maintain a higher body temperature than the average human. She suspects he’ll also be able to take the form of a wolf at will. At least, that’s what previous cases have shown. Teddy may be entirely different.”“I can deal with this,” Harry murmured softly. “I’ve handled Voldemort; this won’t be any problem.”Ginny grinned at him, sipping her tea. “So, how have you been?”Harry shrugged, eyeing her with a half-smile. “Pretty good. I’m almost done with my new book.”Ginny snorted. “You mean M. Night Wolfe is almost finished with his new book,” she retorted playfully.Harry rolled his eyes. “Same person,” he replied. “But yes, the next book is just about finished.”“Good! I’m tired of waiting for your lazy arse to publish it.”Harry laughed softly. “What about you?” he asked. “How’s everything?”“Same old, same old.” Ginny frowned slightly. “It’s actually been kind of boring.”“Well, what about that Robert fellow you were seeing?” Harry had heard about the bloke a few weeks ago during one of their rare social calls, considering her long work hours and his taking care of Teddy during all of his free time. She sounded happy about dating the bloke then.“He apparently wasn’t as okay about not having children as he said he was,” Ginny said softly, averting her gaze. Her eyes took on a soft misty quality.Harry’s expression saddened. “Oh, Ginny…”Ginny shook her head and smiled. “It’s alright,” she said somewhat numbly. “I long accepted my condition. It doesn’t stop the wanting, but I can accept its irreparability.”“You’ll find someone who will accept everything about you,” Harry said, standing up to pull her into a hug.“I might as well become a lesbian. They won’t expect me to bear any children,” Ginny joked into Harry’s chest, her voice muffled as she returned the hug. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of safety briefly before she pulled away.Harry snorted. “It’s not exactly something you randomly decide one day,” he said dryly, a tiny grin on his face. Poking fun of his homosexuality was Ginny’s way of showing she was okay with it, and it made Harry love her all the more.“Perhaps not, but sexuality does seem to creep up unexpectedly and in the oddest of times,” she commented. They shared a moment of silence before collapsing into giggles. Their light-hearted moment was disrupted by Ginny’s watch suddenly erupting into a series of chimes—it was a neat invention by her father. “I’m needed at the hospital,” she said apologetically.Harry nodded his head. “I understand. Thanks for checking on Teddy,” he replied softly.“I saw the potions on his bedside table. You did a good job,” Ginny replied easily, smiling widely. “Just keep him hydrated with plenty of fluids. I wouldn’t worry too much about the fever since it doesn’t really seem to be endangering him. The only thing you can really do is wait. Let me know if anything changes.”She gave him one last hug before making her way to the living room and disappearing into the fireplace. Harry stared at it for a moment longer before putting the partially full teacups into the sink and making his way back to Teddy’s bedroom. Ginny hadn’t really changed in the past few years, and her presence had comforted him. Harry didn’t realize how much he’d missed her.Walking into Teddy’s room, Harry froze. The bed was empty. Trying to stop the panicking in his heart, Harry decided to check places Teddy might have gone to—the bathroom, his own bedroom. Nothing. The little boy wouldn’t be downstairs. For one, Harry had just come from there. Besides, Teddy should have been too weak.A soft noise from under the covers caught his attention. Cautiously, Harry reached under the covers and gasped. A small brown wolf cub stared back at him, eyes sparked with recognition. It let out a series of barks and whines, standing on its hind legs.“Teddy?” Harry whispered, eyes wide.Teddy let out a howl, nodding his head up and down. He took a few uneasy steps forward before flopping down on the bed. His fur changed to a deep blue. Harry remembered Teddy doing that as a small child when he was sad or depressed. With a confused smile, the black haired man picked up the wolf cub and cuddled him to his chest.“Oh, Teddy,” Harry said, shaking his head and laughing. “It seems you’ve earned my unusual talent of random occurrences happening to you. Though I think you may have topped my record with this latest situation…”Teddy growled playfully and patted Harry’s nose with his paw.Harry laughed again before setting Teddy down on the floor. Teddy looked at him confusedly, cocking his head to the side and his ears drooping. A tiny whimper escaped the still blue cub. Harry smiled and focused his magic. He felt the change happening—his bones reshaped and he sprouted fur.He decided to become an Animagus six years ago. Originally, it was because at the time he’d been exploring and researching all types of magic. Most wizards failed to realize that an Animagus transformation was wandless magic. They relied too heavily on using their wands and didn’t see that they had the potential to be greater.Harry, of course, was already quite proficient in wandless magic. It wasn’t a talent he wanted to show off, per se. All of his life, Harry craved normalcy. That hadn’t changed when he became a wizard, nor when he found out he was the Wizarding world’s Chosen One, nor when he defeated Voldemort. If anyone found out he didn’t really need a wand, he’d be placed on an even higher pedestal.Not using wandless magic didn’t make him any less of a wizard—just a normal one.Still, after researching nearly every kind of magic and figuring out which he was most comfortable with, shifting into an animal at will had to be one of Harry’s favorite branches of magic. His Animagus form was that of a midnight black wolf (hence his oh-so-clever penname) with sleek fur, glowing unmistakably green eyes, and ominously gleaming claws. His arms and legs were strong, perfect for running…or taking out an enemy.Running in his Animagus form provided a nice freedom he hadn’t before experienced. He’d become addicted to running throughout the plush greenery of the forest in Forks and La Push, feeling the loose dirt underneath his paws and taking in nature with new eyes.He’d indulged in the occasional run when he was completely certain that Teddy was deeply asleep. He couldn’t do it as often as he wanted to because of the little boy in his care, but he cherished every time he was able to run free.Teddy barked wildly, his fur changing bright yellow as Harry joined him in wolf form. Harry allowed the cub to nuzzle its cheek against his leg before using his rough tongue to lick Teddy’s other cheek. Using his teeth to gently bite Teddy at the base of the neck, like he’d seen most parental animals do to their young, he carried his godson down the stairs and out of the house. He set Teddy down and snorted, absent-mindedly wondering why he hadn’t just bothered transforming outside.Teddy let out small yips as he felt the snow beneath his paws. Excited, he began running around in circles in an amused attempt to chase after his tail. Harry let out barks of laughter. He could feel the wards adjust ever-so-slightly to his and Teddy’s wolf forms, accepting their magical signatures and not taking any action against them. That’s why he liked these particular wards; they were more advanced than the ones he’d originally planned on placing around his property. The plan had been to protect him and Teddy from outside forces, all kinds, unless keyed into the wards.The problem with such wards, however, was that people could accidentally stumble upon his domicile and get hurt. Because, of course, when people live in an area surrounded by such a beautifully plush forest, camping was a must.Not wanting to get the American magical government involved, Harry had to have modified wards that protected him from harm against those with malicious intent towards the persons in the house. It worked out just fine, in the end. There wasn’t really too much supernatural life in Forks, Washington. He didn’t really need to be under such heavy protection; not like him and Teddy would have in Britain despite all the changes for the better.Another issue with the wards was that they only alerted him to potential dangers. When a person entered a warded area with the will to do harm against the people residing in said area, it tainted their cores ever-so-slightly. The wards were good at detecting such taints. The real problem with the wards was that anyone powerful, or smart, enough could easily hide their presence. He wouldn’t really have a clue as to whether or not someone was watching him.The thought sent chills down his spine.Still, Forks was a calm area and nothing exciting ever happened. The paranoia he’d developed since surviving the war wouldn’t let him completely rest. He’d abide by American magical laws since he was currently an American citizen, but Mad-Eye Moody’s cries of “CONSTANT VIGILENCE!” would never escape his head. He didn’t believe anything would really happen, but he had several back-up plans for every type of problem only Harry Potter would ever be capable of running into.Teddy’s fur changed to bubble gum pink. It was the same shade Tonks preferred, Harry noticed wistfully. With a soft bark, Harry nudged Teddy into walking. The cub followed without another word, instincts kicking in. For all intents and purposes, Harry was leader of the pack. Harry was the one that would keep him safe no matter what.Harry urged Teddy to break into a soft jog with encouraging growls and yips. It was like teaching his baby how to walk all over again, and he loved it. He’d missed the early years, raising Teddy from scratch, wondering if he was doing it right and if the little boy would grow up into the man Tonks and Remus would be proud of. He’d had his doubts and insecurities, moments of weakness where he thought of his neglectful childhood getting in the way of providing Teddy with the loving environment he himself had never had.Teddy’s little pink tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted happily, tail wagging cheerfully. He seemed to enjoy being in his wolf form. Perhaps that was instinct as well. Harry never hid Remus’ lycanthropy from the boy and, though he wasn’t completely sure Teddy would be able to shift into a wolf at will, he had told Teddy of the possibility.Like all confident children raised away from prejudices, Teddy thought it would be a cool thing to inherit from his father. If only Remus had lived long enough to hear that…Shaking his head, Harry let out a bark. He had much to show Teddy about his little wolf body, and plenty of time and land to do so. With another nudge, Harry led Teddy further away from their house and closer towards the edge of the wards, acknowledging the scent of other animals in the forest but unaware of the significance of another much larger wolf patrolling not too far away.***There were times where Embry Call hated being a shape shifter.Firstly, it fucked with his idea of reality. He’d grown up believing the old tales his tribe had spoken of were just that. Tales. Fiction. There were no such things as vampires, werewolves, mythical creatures, or anything of the like. It just wasn’t possible, and it was universally accepted as a myth. Well, it was until he’d gotten really sick, missed a week of school, and discovered that it wasn’t mythical bullshit. Like the elders had spoke of, Embry became one of the lucky kids to have the ability to transform into a wolf and exactly on his seventeenth birthday.Oh, the joy.When he really thought about it, the freedom to change into a wolf was actually rather cool. He could do something others couldn’t, and it made him special. However, being a member of Sam’s budding pack had certain consequences that made Embry curse his genes. The second reason why he wasn’t too thrilled to be able to shift was because of the secrecy involved in the act. Now that he had a wolf form, he had certain duties that needed tending to, like protecting Forks from the Cullens or any other leech they ran across.His mother was ignorant to his newfound ability, and couldn’t understand that he wasn’t rebelling against her by staying out as late as he did. He had a responsibility to protect the humans surrounding the La Push territory. It wasn’t like he could walk up to her and say, “Mom, I’m not trying to go against your authority. I just need to walk around the edge of the forest at odd hours to protect Forks and La Push from the leech infestation. I’ll try to make it home in time for dinner tomorrow.”Along with not being able to tell his mother anything, Embry couldn’t tell his best friends either. He always told Quil and Jacob everything. Now he ignored them in favor of his pack duties, and he could see how hurt and confused they were by his behavior. Jacob’s kind brown eyes that were always laughing were now accusatory, taking in his change in appearance and attitude with disapproval. Embry so wanted to tell them, but keeping the secret was much too important, and his Alpha had forbidden it.Frowning, Embry continued to prowl the edge of the border line between La Push and Cullen territory. Another issue with having inherited the shape shifter gene was the issue of his parentage. He’d always believed his father was some bastard that didn’t care for his mother or him. Now he found out that his father was actually one of three cheating bastards that certainly weren’t about to find out if he was their son—to keep the tribe problem-free, of course.His nose twitched slightly; he caught the scent of two strange creatures. Wolves, he could tell, but different. One of them smelt slightly familiar, as if he’d caught a small whiff of it before. Embry frowned and followed the scent, his haunches raised. An odd, unidentifiable sensation crept into the pit of his stomach.Quietly padding closer to the scent, Embry tried to keep his presence unnoticeable for as long as possible. He caught a glimpse at the strange wolves and his eyes widened.A small cub with unmistakably yellow fur was curled against the leg to what Embry assumed was his father. For some reason, the thought of a wolf having yellow fur was stranger to him than a human shifting into a wolf.The other wolf was older, male, and had a sort of air around him. His eyes, a startling vivid emerald green, were too knowledgeable. He’d seen other (normal) wolves before; knew how calculatingly smart they were. This wolf’s eyes, though… They reminded him of his pack. They were somehow human.The wolf had a beautiful midnight black coat, standing out tremendously in the snow. Embry studied the wolf for a bit, confused and feeling oddly glad.Gold began to tint his vision, temporarily blinding him. That strange wolf was surrounded by gold lights, beautifully horrifying. Embry choked on air, the sound catching the attention of the strange wolf. The wolf got into a ready stance, upper lip curled upwards in a snarl as he stood between Embry and his cub.Embry’s heart thudded faster. The wolf—he was beautiful. His eyes widened in horror and before he could think, the world began to spin out of orbit and he felt himself collapsing onto the snow. He could hear his small pack in the back of his mind demanding to know what the problem was.He just imprinted on a male wolf.Shit.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 3 – Problems
"Every problem has a gift for you in its hands."
/Embry/\Harry\
Victoria was hard-pressed not to let her disgusted sneer show. Her deceivingly delicate-looking hand clenched tightly, and her dead heart was consumed with fiery rage. Oh, how she wanted to avenge James. She wanted to squeeze the life out of that pathetic human Bella Swan, feel the stupid bitch's pulse stop just below her fingers. And then, when Edward Cullen tried to avenge his fallen mate, she would end him.But, of course, Victoria was privy to the phrase, "Good things come to those who wait."In order to extract her revenge and lengthen her chances at survival in the process, she needed to plan things carefully. That was why she'd started her little newborn army about ten months ago. She would slaughter the reason why her mate was dead, enjoy licking the blood away from the tantalizing human's neck, and when Edward Cullen was overcome with as much agony as she had felt, her army would wipe the Cullens out of existence.Her revenge was so close to fruition, she could almost taste it. A dangerously cruel smirk danced across her lips.A familiar scent wafted towards her and she schooled her features into one of eager anticipation. Riley had returned. He looked at her with a pitifully admiring gaze, eyes filled with enough adoration to make Victoria feel thoroughly disgusted. Sure, he was cute, but Victoria didn't give a damn about him or his feelings. She needed him to extract her revenge—nothing more, nothing less.Thank goodness he was too stupid and blind to see past her façade."Have you chosen another?" she asked, her voice low and sultry. He'd been an excellent helper so far, selecting candidates to join her army—well, force into her army.Riley shivered, his red eyes half-lidded with unrequited emotions. "I think so," he replied. "He's…special."Victoria cocked an eyebrow. "How?" she scoffed.Riley stepped forward, invading her personal bubble with a saucy grin as he placed his hands on her hips. "He was one of those people you were telling me about," he whispered in her ear, mistaking her shiver of disgust for an emotion she was incapable of feeling towards him. "He had that stick thing; a wand, I believe."Victoria froze. A wizard? The last time she'd encountered one was in London when she was a part of Hilda's coven. Her eyes hardened in hatred. Wizards were partly the reason why the Volturi had slaughtered the only family she'd had. Arrogant and disgusting creatures, they were. Wizards thought with their magic that they had the right to rule everything. In their attempt to subdue her coven, vampires and wizards were exposed to the mundane.The fight that ensued was one of the bloodiest she'd ever been involved in.Their narrow victory had been hollow, however. With too many witnesses to the frenzy that occurred after the first draw of blood, vampires had immediately been painted as evil creatures thirsting for humans. The mundane, fearful for what was better than they, immediately began hunting anything they considered abnormal. The Volturi, damn them, had stepped in then; had accused them of drawing too much attention to themselves and, consequently, every other vampire.Victoria was lucky she made it out alive.Eventually witches, wizards, vampires, and everything the mundane feared had faded into obscurity and became things of myth. But Victoria hadn't forgotten. She would never forget. Had it not been for wizards, they wouldn't have been exposed. Had it not been for those disgusting bugs, her sister would still be with her.After she had her revenge on Edward Cullen and his insignificant mate, maybe she'd finally be able to wipe out the wizards with her army… Turning a wizard into a vampire would definitely be something worth trying. If a wizard could keep his magic during the transformation—oh, the possibilities.She grinned wickedly at that thought. "Tell me more," she purred.
***
Harry snarled ferociously at the other wolf. He'd been so busy helping Teddy get used to his new senses that he'd forgotten himself; forgotten the other creatures in the forest. The wolf was large, almost bear-like, with grey fur and black spots. Funny, he'd never seen mutated wolves before—because, really, a wolf this size had to be a government experiment gone wrong.He planted himself firmly between Teddy and the unknown mutated wolf. No way in hell was anything going to hurt his cub; not when Harry was still alive and kicking. Oddly enough, the mutated wolf simply stared at him, intelligent—too intelligent—eyes wide with what Harry thought may have been shock. Being territorial creatures, Harry had expected for the wolf to at least attempt to fight him. Before he could further contemplate the strange behavior, the mutant wolf's eyes rolled in the back of his head and he dropped in a dead faint.His ears twitched and he snarled louder as Teddy whimpered into his fur. It was a few tense moments before he found himself surrounded by three other mutated wolves. He was outnumbered and growled viciously when one of the wolves stepped forward, snarling. Teddy whimpered again before his fur began changing all sorts of colors. A soft light emitted and Harry cursed viciously.Teddy shivered softly, once again in his human form and shivering in the cold snow. He was as naked as the day he was born, and stared at the wolves fearfully. Harry contemplated his choices quickly. He couldn't perform magic in his Animagus form, but if he changed back, he could possibly stun them all and run away with Teddy. Then again, he had no idea how fast these wolves were. Would they attack Teddy while he transformed? Would they attack now that they see fresh meat?Growling at the wolves, he was once again surprised when they took a couple of steps backwards. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say they looked taken aback that Teddy had turned human. He could use their surprise to his advantage. Thinking quickly, Harry shifted easily back into his human form. He stunned them quickly before turning around, taking his shirt off, and putting it on Teddy."U-Uncle Harry," Teddy stuttered, his small body trembling. "Are they going to eat us?"Harry shook his head. "No, but let's not wait for them to wake up and find out.""How come you have your clothes on?" Teddy glared enviously.Harry snorted. "You'll learn to transform with clothes on soon enough. Let's go."He easily picked up his godson and practically flung him over his shoulder. He began making his way towards their house, wordlessly and wandlessly using his magic to muddle their scents. It wouldn't do any good to be followed home by hungry mutant wolves."UNCLE HARRY!" Teddy shrieked.It was the only warning he got before he was tackled into the snow. Teddy let out a small oof as he went tumbling a few feet away near a bush. Harry sucked in deep breaths of air (because damn, the wolf was heavy) and managed to turn over, staring at the wolf that had fainted earlier with surprise. That surprise quickly melted into anger and desperation; he had not defeated Voldemort and moved to America just to get eaten by some stupid lab reject.Before he could cast any magic, the wolf leaned down and licked his face. Harry flinched back, scrunching his nose and wiping at his face. "What the…?" he murmured.Teddy let out a strangled noise and Harry was morbidly fascinated as the wolf on top of him phased into a man. A very naked man with a pair of shorts tied around his leg and a mortified expression on his face. The man let out a surprised yell and threw himself off Harry, quickly and efficiently putting his shorts on.Harry scrambled onto his two feet and wandlessly cast Accio, holding his arms out. Teddy flew into them without protest and squeezed his godfather tightly. "Uncle Harry, is he an Animagus too?" Teddy whispered loudly.Harry swallowed thickly, shaking his head to clear it. He took a step backwards, his arms encased around Teddy protectively. "Who are you?" he demanded, angry with himself when his voice came out a tad squeakier than he would've liked.The man faced him, his tan cheeks flushed a dark red. His black hair was cropped short, and his brown eyes reflected his embarrassment. He was, after all, half-naked standing in the snow. "I mean you no harm," the man said softly, his voice a rather pleasant tenor.Harry glared at him. "Who. Are. You?" he hissed, clutching Teddy close to him and keeping his eyes trained on the native man.The man's cheeks darkened further. "I'm Embry Call," he replied. "I live in La Push."Harry's eyes narrowed at the unfamiliar surname. "I take it you're a Muggleborn, then?"Embry blinked, very confused. "A what?" He eyed the man—his imprint—before him, somewhat worried. As if his heart could take any more stress. When he passed out, he thought someone was punishing him. Because, really, just because he could turn into a wolf did not mean he wanted to imprint on one! To his surprise, he woke up to see his imprint turn into an admittedly very attractive man, do something unexplainable to his packmates, and walk away with a child in his arms.He hadn't known what else to do. His imprint was walking away and something inside of him practically forced him to jump the other man. Then, to his horrific mortification, that very same feeling inside of him forced him to phase back into his human form. Just because the man was his imprint, that didn't mean he wanted to flaunt his birthday suit in the first few minutes of meeting the guy. He would never live this day down.And now that he was actually talking to his imprint (whose voice was slightly deep and caused unmentionable shivers to travel up and down his spine, which was weird since Embry never considered his imprint being anything other than female, but then again it hadn't really sunk in that his imprint was the same sex as him), it seemed like he damaged something when he jumped on his imprint. So, no, he didn't imprint on a male wolf. He just imprinted on someone who possibly escaped the Happy Hotel and took a hostage with him.Yeah, Fate was laughing her ass off at him.Harry regarded Embry in front of him. "Do you call it something different in America? Sorry, I never bothered with Wiccan magicks.""Wicca? I have no idea what you're talking about," Embry retorted, still horrifically confused and unsure of what to do. His eyes flickered to his pack mates and his heart lurched. "Did you hurt them?"Harry's eyes softened marginally and the death grip he had on Teddy loosened ever-so-slightly. "I've only stunned them to stop them from attacking," he explained almost gently. "They'll be fine."Embry swallowed thickly and nodded his head. "What are you?" he asked quietly.Harry frowned slightly. "I'm a wizard," he said slowly as if he were talking to someone handicapped."A wizard." Embry blinked. "Uh-huh. Pull the other one; it's got bells on it."Harry scowled furiously. "Why the bloody Hell would I make up something like that?" he nearly snarled. "You know what? I don't even know why I'm talking to you. Good bye!""Wait!" Embry called, rushing forward to stop his imprint from leaving. He was surprised to find himself unable to move. His eyes widened. "I didn't mean to make you angry. It's just, magic isn't real."Harry snorted. "Of course it isn't. That's why I have the form of a wolf, stunned your packmates, and you're unable to move. Because magic is fake," he said sarcastically.Embry felt himself flush. "Well, it wasn't real a few minutes ago," he grumbled darkly."And, uh, how exactly can you turn into a wolf without the aid of magic?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side.Embry coughed uncomfortably. "Genetics," he said unsurely. "My tribe's ancestors are descended from wolves.""Right.""Uncle Harry, is there something wrong with him?" Teddy whispered loudly."No, there isn't!" Embry protested, frowning.Teddy regarded him curiously. "Well, you're making an awful big fuss over something that's true," he said factually. "Magic obviously exists or you wouldn't be a wolf at all."Harry gave his godson a proud look. "Good thinking," he appraised. "It could be possible, though, that Call here was raised by squibs or Muggles.""What's a squib? Or a Muggle?" Embry asked. "And, please, call me Embry."Teddy's mouth formed an 'o' as he nodded his understanding. "Uncle Harry, I'm cold," he said suddenly.Harry wrapped his arms around Teddy tighter, casting a warming charm on the boy. He released Embry and watched as the man stumbled, obviously relieved that he could move again. "Let's go," he murmured to his godson, once again walking away from Embry. He paused for just a moment before he waved his hand, reviving Embry's stunned packmates. "Don't follow us again."Embry glanced at his packmates and in that moment Harry took his chance to cover up his tracks. When Embry looked back, his brain felt as if it were stuffed with cotton. The image of his imprint blurred considerably, and he couldn't really remember what the man looked like. His heart lurched unpleasantly, and he suddenly felt so very small."What happened?" Sam demanded groggily as he stood up, unaware or uncaring of his nude state."He's gone," Embry whispered, sounding confused and lost. "Gone. Don't follow.""What?" Jared asked, his eyebrow cocked.Embry's brows furrowed and his face scrunched up funnily. "I don't…I don't remember…" he murmured.Paul scowled furiously. "My memory's fuzzy, too," he said angrily, upset that he couldn't remember and even more upset because of how unexplainable the situation seemed.Sam held up his hand to quiet his small pack, his nostrils flaring slightly as he tried to smell any clues. He frowned, his nose only picking up the usual scent of nature and that of his packmates. The more he tried to remember what the hell had happened mere moments ago, the less he was able to recall. In fact, Sam wasn't too sure what he, Jared, and Paul were doing in this part of the forest. Embry had been on guard duty, and they'd never had a problem before. If any leeches had come looking for a fight, his nose would burn and surely there would have been evidence of a struggle.But, no. The only sign of anything abnormal happening was Embry's constant whispers of some man who obviously wasn't there.What on earth happened?Sam knelt beside Embry, unsure of what to do. He opened the mind link he shared with Embry and tried to recall anything that might help him, but he was blinded by bright golden lights and an overwhelming feeling of desperation and fear. That was quickly followed by an emptiness that made his heart ache terribly.It was almost as if he lost Emily…Sam gasped softly, realization sinking into his head. Embry had imprinted on someone! But…where was his imprint?"Embry, do you remember anything?" he asked quietly, his hands firmly squeezing the younger male's shoulders in an effort to comfort him as well as steady himself."Gone," Embry muttered, his eyes glossing over. "He's gone. I can't…I don't know…what…gone…""What the hell are you talking about?" Paul snarled, his upper lip curled in distaste.Sam gave him a heated look. "He imprinted," Sam hissed angrily. "And something's obviously happened. We need to have a council meeting—now!"Paul was torn between snapping back and staring at Embry in shock. Jared none-too-gently nudged him, and both transformed into wolves, obeying Sam's mental orders to inform the council of all they knew, which wasn't much. Sam quickly put on his shorts and put one of Embry's arms over his shoulders. He would've preferred to phase back, but Embry was in no such condition to do so."Why can't I remember?" Embry whispered angrily to himself."Don't worry about it," Sam suggested. "We'll go to the council and set everything straight. Hold on tight, Embry."They stumbled through the forest until they reached Billy Black's house. Sam pursed his lips at the thought of Billy's son, Jacob, being there whilst they tried to figure out what the hell happened to Embry. That thought was immediately dismissed, however. Billy Black knew the importance of keeping the shape-shifting ability a secret even more than Sam did. He wouldn't do anything to jeopardize it."Lay him here," Quil Ateara III, or Old Quil as most called him, said, gesturing to the unoccupied couch.Billy Black's living room was comfortable and somewhat messy. Even though only Billy and Jacob occupied the house, it obviously lacked a woman's touch since Sarah Black passed and her daughters moved out. Still, there was something homey about the place that relaxed Sam as he laid his babbling packmate onto the couch."What happened?" Billy Black asked, curiosity and concern coloring his voice. He wheeled over to Embry, his brow furrowed in confusion as Embry continued to mutter about his lost imprint. Harry Clearwater and Old Quil exchanged looks as Paul and Jared stared at Embry with unreadable expressions.Sam swallowed. "We're not exactly sure," he said slowly, "but I have reason to believe that Embry imprinted on someone.""That's good," Harry Clearwater said, though his voice sounded unsure."The question is, who did he imprint on?" Old Quil murmured.Sam sighed. "We don't know," he admitted. "It was Embry's turn to patrol. We can't remember anything. One minute we were on the other side of La Push, and the next all I recall is being next to Embry. He was already like this.""You don't remember anything?" Billy asked in disbelief.Paul and Jared shook their heads, confirming Sam's story. "He's been mumbling all this time," Jared said. "I didn't see anybody out there with him.""Me neither," Paul growled. "He was out there by himself."Harry Clearwater narrowed his eyes, boring holes into the wall as he attempted to process what the pack was telling him. "You're sure he imprinted?"Sam nodded firmly. "I used the link and I all I could see were gold lights. I felt…I felt like when I first saw Emily after I phased. And then…then it felt like I'd lost her."The three elder Quileutes exchanged grave looks. "That is not good," Billy said softly. "Not good at all.""What?" Paul demanded. "What's wrong with him?"Old Quil sighed softly. "Tricky thing, imprinting," he said calmly. "Both imprinter and imprintee are the perfect match for each other; soul mates, if you will. The wolf will ensure that you care for your imprint however they need you, whether that's as a protector, or a lover, or a friend. It's one of the strongest bonds in nature. When that bond is severed or blocked…well, the situation becomes ugly.""I didn't think you could block an imprint bond," Jared said quietly. "And the only way I know it can be severed is by death.""NOT DEAD!" Embry screamed suddenly, glaring ferociously at Jared. His eyes flashed golden for a moment, taking all of them by surprise. He calmed down shortly after, his head bowing once again in despair. "Not dead…gone…""There are ways to block or sever it without resorting to fatal measures," Harry Clearwater admitted. "But they're practically unheard of, and humans are incapable of messing with an imprint bond.""Well someone did," Paul grit out, "so how do we fix it?"Harry Clearwater snapped his fingers suddenly. "Aunt Lucy," he whispered."What was that?" Billy wheeled over to his friend, a curious expression on his face."Aunt Lucy," Harry Clearwater repeated, raising his voice slightly. "Aunt Lucy can help.""How?" Sam asked, his arms crossed over his chest. "Embry needs to get better—quick."Harry Clearwater immediately lunged for the phone, explaining while punching in numbers. "Aunt Lucy had a twin, Carmen. Aunt Carmen received a letter one day when she was eleven to go to a fancy boarding school in Scotland for the gifted until she was seventeen.""Does she still live in Scotland?" Jared scratched his head. He didn't really see how any of this was going to help Embry, who started to clutch his stomach and moan in pain.Harry Clearwater spoke quickly on the phone to his aunt. "She died," he murmured after he hung up the phone. "There was a civil war brewing in Europe. Aunt Carmen was one of the casualties."Jared winced. "My condolences."Harry Clearwater smiled amiably and shook his head. "Aunt Lucy will be arriving soon.""How is she going to help Embry?" Sam asked, glancing at his packmate with obvious worry.The older Quileute looked nervous. "Aunt Lucy will have to explain that, as I cannot.""So what're we supposed to do? Wait and do nothing while he's in pain?" Paul snarled, pointing at Embry. The other shape shifter groaned and clenched his fists, grinding his teeth together."We can't do anything for that," Old Quil said. "Embry is in pain because his imprint is not here. The sooner Lucy gets here, the sooner we'll be able to locate said imprint. Only then will Embry be at ease."Billy frowned. He wasn't too happy with the situation at all. He turned towards his old friend. "Is there anything you can tell us?"Harry Clearwater sighed heavily, glancing around the room. His eyes rested on Embry briefly. "Sit down," he said tiredly. He stared at each and every one of them seriously. "What do you think about magic?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 4 – Solutions
"All progress is precarious, and the solution of one problem brings us face to face with another problem."
/Embry/\Harry\
Paul scowled, his fists clenched. "Very funny," he snarled. "How the hell is this hocus pocus crap going to help Embry?"Harry Clearwater frowned disapprovingly at the youth. Before he could say anything, there was a knock on the door. Billy easily wheeled over to it and opened it, smiling. Two women stood in the doorway. The older looking woman had straight, jet black hair that reached the middle of her back. Time had been kind to her, the only evidence of her age being the slight crow's feet at the corners of her warm brown eyes."Good to see you again, Lucy. It's been a while," Billy said kindly.Aunt Lucy grinned before she leaned down, enveloping the wheelchair-ridden man in a hug. "Indeed it has. I wish the circumstances were better." Her happy expression dimmed slightly before she brightened and gestured to the younger woman next to her. "This is my niece, Penelope Clearwater. When Harry called me, I figured she would be the best person to help Embry."Penelope smiled at the group of men, tucking a thick lock of hair behind her ear. She kept her wand hidden carefully in the holster on her arm. The war had taken its toll on her and, though she knew why her mother's Muggle family was privy to magic and the Wizarding world, Penelope could still remember the time before Harry Potter had finally stopped He Who Must Not Be Named. She remembered being snatched, being accused of stealing another witch's magic, being sent to Azkaban by the corrupted Ministry. Penelope was one of the very lucky ones. She was still alive.She thanked Merlin every day for Harry Potter saving the world; saving her. When she first caught sight of little Harry Potter, she couldn't quite understand how someone so small could be the savior of an entire world. While Penelope didn't know Harry Potter personally, she knew other Weasleys besides Percy who more than once vouched for his awesomeness. (Gred and Forge's words; not hers.)The brief years she spent with him at school, she'd heard rumors of his little escapades that saved the school twice and gave him a special award. After graduating, Penelope put Harry Potter out of her mind. She had to get a respectable job, and continuously thinking about the enigma that was the boy savior wouldn't get her anywhere.And still, despite graduating, she continued to hear about the wonderful, powerful Harry Potter whether it was from Molly Weasley, who she occasionally talked to, or the Daily Prophet with horrid, gossiping stories that seemed to be mostly fiction. When the news of You Know Who's supposed return had hit her, Penelope was ashamed to admit that her opinions regarding the situation leaned more towards that of the Daily Prophet's. After all, how could You Know Who return after about thirteen years of blissful silence? No, Harry Potter had to be off his rocker, and poor Molly Weasley was so blinded by her adoration for the boy that she took his word at face value.But as the years went by, the war escalated. You Know Who was back and the year spent in denial allowed him to gather enough strength that he was able to overtake the Ministry and Hogwarts. Penelope had been so frightened that she finally purchased a plane ticket. Aunt Lucy had convinced her to move to America. It would be different and perhaps she'd have a rough time adjusting, but it was a matter of life and death and the decision wasn't that hard to make.And that very same night when she packed all of her belongings, including the urn containing her father's ashes, her house was raided by death eaters. Despite being a Half-Blood, Penelope was taken into custody. Her father's name wasn't well known and, with him dead from a raid the month previous, that stupid toad Umbridge had claimed there was no evidence of her blood status and sentenced her to Azkaban.Of course, there were plenty of ways to prove that she was a Half-Blood, but the trial proceedings weren't exactly geared towards anything but condemning innocent people for something they couldn't control. It didn't matter that her father was a Pureblood from a lesser family. She was still tainted, still had mud in her blood, and still wasn't a supporter of the fascist that wanted to rule the world.Penelope never stood a chance, really.Azkaban had been horrible. She was always cold, always hungry, always so very empty. Nights and days bled together in a twisted mockery of a life. There was never any silence; only the yells of horrified people begging for Harry Potter to finally save them, begging for a miracle. Penelope couldn't exactly remember if she'd been one of the people crying for a savior or cursing the lack of one.At one point, Penelope had been so furious that she joined in the screaming, letting her rage ring along the over-crowded cells until her throat was raw and scratchy. "Harry Potter's not coming," she had whispered hopelessly. "We're better off dead."And even if he did come, how was a seventeen-year-old boy supposed to take on the most powerful wizard in the world?Day after day, the despair-infested prison had escalated in its loss of faith until, finally, the lone door at the end of the hallway had opened and several prominent witches and wizards had rushed into Azkaban, unlocking the cells and letting people free. Never before had she been so happy to eat her words.Penelope hadn't believed it at first; nobody really had. Death Eaters used to do that. They would walk dramatically into the prison, glamored as regular-looking witches and wizards pretending that Harry Potter won the war and they had all been set free. The poor, gullible, and desperate witches and wizards had been severely beaten, spit on, and eventually killed."The Dark Lord will crush Potter," an unknown Death Eater had sneered, "and you vermin will rot in here like the magic-sucking pigs you are."There's only so much the human soul and body can go through before all hope is lost."It's nice to meet you all," Penelope said, snapping out of her morbid reverie and smiling.Harry Clearwater stood and engulfed both women in a hug. "Aunt Lucy, cousin," he greeted. "I was just trying to explain to them about magic."Paul growled. "Embry's not getting any better by us talking about something that doesn't exist!" he snapped.Penelope shared a look with Aunt Lucy. She looked back at Paul, who stared challenging at her. "And how exactly can you phase into a wolf if there isn't any magic involved?" she asked curiously.Paul stiffened slightly. "Not that it's any of your business," he sneered, "but we phase because of Q'wati; not some hocus pocus bullshit."Penelope's smile stretched wider, not at all offended. She'd suffered worse attitudes in prison. Sparing a glance at Aunt Lucy, she flicked her hand and her wand quickly flew into it. The wolves, startled, immediately growled, their hackles raised. "It's just my wand," she said, showing them the smooth wood. "I'm a witch."Sam blinked. "You're a witch?" he asked in disbelief. "Like, you can make potions in cauldrons and fly on broomsticks?"Penelope nodded. "It was a gift passed down to me by my parents. My mother was a witch born into a non-magic family, making her a Muggleborn. Muggles are what we call non-magic folk. My father, on the other hand, came from an all-magic family, making him a Pureblood. I'm a Half-Blood as a result."Jared scratched his head, obviously confused. "No offense, but what does this have to do with helping Embry?" he asked. "I don't want to be rude, but he's getting worse."It was true; Embry's temperature remained unchanged, but he shivered as if he were cold and he began to sweat.Penelope grimaced and nodded again. "I'll explain everything better later, but right now I'll perform some diagnostic charms on him," she said firmly, easily slipping into lecture mode. "I'm not sure how this imprinting business goes, but if you can't remember anything, that suggests you've all been Obliviated. There is a way to reverse it, however that also means that there is a witch or wizard in the area."Old Quil nodded his head calmly. "Do whatever you must to give them back their memories, please. The sooner we find out who did this and why, the sooner Embry can find his imprint."Penelope performed a few subtle movements with her wand, muttering the spell lowly. She hummed in acknowledgement when her spell confirmed that they'd all been Obliviated. As she set to work, her brows furrowed in confusion. Why would anyone want to obliviate a group of boys? Sure, the boys were larger than average, but that didn't quite seem right.Carefully reversing the spell, Penelope gasped in shock and her eyes widened. She watched as Embry stumbled across two wolves, one turning out to be very small and colorful. His memories went black, signifying that Embry had passed out. If she had to guess, Penelope would bet that the shock of imprinting on a male wolf was too much for him. When he finally came to, Penelope felt weak in the knees as she realized that the male wolf was, in fact, Harry Potter.Embry gasped as his imprint's handsome face reappeared in his head. His heart swelled slightly and he smiled weakly. He was sure his imprint's name was Harry. Embry made to get off the sofa, but Sam easily pushed him back down."Don't get up just yet," Sam warned, staring at his packmate with concern."I need to find him," Embry insisted, trying once more to get up.Jared blinked. "Him? Your imprint's a dude?" He gaped slightly. "I didn't think that was possible…""Penelope, are you alright?" Aunt Lucy asked, rushing over to her niece where she'd collapsed onto her knees. "I didn't think you'd be weakened so considerably."Penelope shook her head. "I'm fine," she said softly. "Just in shock, I suppose.""Why? What did you see?" Paul asked gruffly. He felt mildly uncomfortable with the thought of Embry's imprint being a male.Penelope shook her head and moved to reverse the spell on the other three packmates. She accepted the bottle of water Billy retrieved for her and drank. The cool liquid trickled down her throat and Penelope felt slightly calmer. Regaining her composure, Penelope noticed she was the center of attention."I…I know who Embry's imprint is," Penelope said softly. "I used to go to school with him."Embry leaned towards her eagerly. "His name is Harry, right?"Penelope nodded her head. "Harry Potter. How much do you currently know about the Wizarding world?" she asked suddenly.Harry Clearwater coughed slightly. "I told them what I knew, which isn't really much," he admitted."We understand there was a war over blood status," Sam clarified.Penelope hummed thoughtfully. "The Wizarding world has always deemed blood status important," she began. "Just as a lot of Muggles consider wealth important. The very old, Pureblood families detested anybody outside of their circles of power and influence. There was one particular wizard that took it to the next level. Few were ever able to speak his name. Most refer to the wizard as You-Know-Who and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Long story short, he attempted to eradicate everyone with "tainted" blood in the Wizarding world until he was stopped on October 31, 1981 by a baby."Paul rolled his eyes. "Right. A baby. You're wasting our time."Sam nudged him harshly, glaring. He turned towards Penelope again. "What does this have to do with Embry's imprint?" An odd feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.Penelope sighed. "That baby is the only known survivor of the Killing Curse. He was referred to as the Boy Who Lived. Eventually, he grew up and had to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was already halfway through my schooling when he began. I didn't know him personally, but my ex-boyfriend's family was practically his family, so I heard a lot about him."His name was Harry Potter. He was deemed the Savior of the Wizarding world because of what had happened that night. It's not completely clear, but there were rumors that there was a prophecy regarding Harry Potter and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Penelope took a drink of water. "The Dark Lord returned to power in 1995. Nobody wanted to believe that. I mean, we'd had fourteen years of blissful peace. Who would want that ruined?"Sam frowned slightly. "Go on," he urged."I was one of the people that didn't believe him," Penelope confessed, her head bowed slightly in shame. "But, he was right. The Dark Lord returned and the world went to shit. Albus Dumbledore, my former Headmaster and one of the most powerful wizards at the time, was killed. Hogwarts and the Ministry was taken over. Laws were passed regarding anybody whose blood wasn't pure. They were to be snatched, forced into a farce of a trial, and were either killed or sent to Azkaban prison."They noticed her shudder of horror. "You said you were Half-Blood," Jared murmured. "You were sent to jail? For something as stupid as your blood?"Penelope suppressed the wicked memories that threatened to resurface. "I was going to come here and avoid the war, but I was too late. They snatched me out of my home as I was about to leave and I was tossed in Azkaban. The thing about Azkaban prison is that it's worse than any other prison you will ever go to. It's guarded by dark creatures, Dementors, that suck the happy feelings out of you until all you know is depression and sadness. If you're unlucky enough to be Kissed, they suck out your soul."Jared gaped. "No offense, but your world seems kind of twisted."Penelope grimaced. "For a while, it was. It truly is an amazing place to live, but history has its ugly moments. It would have continued to be such an awful place if it weren't for Harry Potter. I was in Azkaban, so I don't know everything that happened and most people are rather tight-lipped about it. All I know is that Harry Potter won the war. He battled the Dark Lord and won. That's not a feat other wizards can accomplish, and he was only seventeen at the time."She paused to take another sip of water. "The reason why I'm telling you this is because after the war, Harry Potter randomly up and left Britain. He'd vanished without a trace, sending the world into an uproar. The Daily Prophet, our newspaper, would write several nasty, horrid articles about him and speculate his whereabouts. They only stopped when he wrote an equally harsh and nasty letter telling everyone to butt out and leave him alone. Nobody's seen him in eight years, though he's still helped the government change for the better."Paul stared at her hard. "What does this have to do with Embry?" he asked, although he had a feeling he already knew why she had told them all of this information."Harry Potter is Embry's imprint," Penelope said. Nobody in the room was surprised to hear it. "I guess he's been living in America all these years."Embry attempted to get up again. "I need to see him," he told Sam, who held him down. "Please, I need to explain why I acted that way around him."Sam shook his head. "You're still weak, and I'm not sure we can trust him. He messed with all of our memories.""He wouldn't have known the kind of effect erasing your memories would have had," Penelope argued. "I might not know him personally, but I do know that Harry Potter is not the kind of person to hurt other people. He's brave, loyal, smart, and selflessly kind.""Sounds like you want him," Embry snarled, glaring at her fiercely."Or blindly worship him," Jared commented breezily.Penelope stood and glared at the pack. "Harry Potter saved my life!" she hissed angrily. "With all the shit that's been done to him, he could have walked out on the world and not bothered to face the Dark Lord! Instead, he chose to face one of the most evil creatures to have ever existed and he came out on top. Without him, I would still be rotting in that prison. Do I worship him? Hell no. But I damn well respect him and everything he's done. And as for wanting him, I'm very much involved with someone and quite happy about it, thank you very much!"Sam held his hand up to stop any further arguments from his pack, forcing them to calm down through the mind link. "This is a bit of a shock," he said, trying to calm down the enraged witch. Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned, after all. "It's a lot to take in, and with the imprint bond being strained and then having that negative influence being reversed, Embry isn't quite himself."Penelope took a sip of water and breathed deeply. When she felt her anger drain away, she asked, "I know imprinting means you find your soul mate, but what exactly does that entail? I mean, in the Wizarding world, soul mates are more myth than fiction. There've been a few cases of it happening, but people can live happily without their other halves."Old Quil smiled kindly at the witch. "It is very different for those with the shape shifter gene," he began. "The bond between imprint and imprintee are very strong. It is involuntary and instantaneous. All other connections are essentially severed, and only the imprintee matters. The bond cannot be severed or messed with in any way, or the results, as you've seen, are not pretty. It's also unheard of for the imprintee to refuse their other half. Because of this, we're not entirely sure what will happen should this unlikely situation to come into play.""But obviously, this Harry Potter isn't like other humans and didn't feel any particular strain after he messed with the bond," Paul pointed out angrily. "We more-than-likely will find out what happens when a wolf is refused." He looked like he wanted to hit something."No, you won't," Penelope said sharply. "I'm sure if you explain the situation to him, everything will work out. Like I said before, he's an honorable person. And no, that's not hero worship talk or anything of the sort. My ex-boyfriend's mother is like Harry Potter's adopted mother. She talks about him all the time when we have lunch."There was a brief moment of silence before Billy cleared his throat. "Embry needs his imprint," he said, "even if that bond doesn't go beyond simple companionship." He looked at Sam. "Perhaps we could go and explain things to him."Sam still looked hesitant, but nodded. He understood the importance of the imprint bond and, even more, saw exactly how bad Embry had become without Potter. His heart ached at the thought of someone keeping Emily away from him. Though still extremely wary, Sam agreed. At least with Billy tagging along, he would feel more assured concerning Embry and his imprint."Alright," he said. "Let's find Potter."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter 5 – Sue Clearwater
“Again and again, the impossible decision is solved when we see that the problem is only a tough decision waiting to be made.”
/Embry/\Harry\
Harry had to avert his eyes to keep from caving in. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces as he heard Teddy’s quiet sniffling. Merlin knew he didn’t want to hurt Teddy, but sometimes a little heartache was unavoidable. Without saying a word, he pulled his silently crying godson into his lap. Before long, Teddy’s small body shook and tiny gasping sobs escaped his mouth. Harry wanted to tell Teddy to forget everything he’d just said, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t do that.“I don’t want to miss school or stay inside all week!” Teddy cried. “Please don’t make me, Uncle Harry!”Harry sighed and brushed away a few loose tears. “Teddy, you know I want nothing more than for you to be happy. However, your safety must come first. We don’t know if phasing into your wolf form is emotion-based or if you’ll have trouble tapping into that power again. Staying home from school this week will hopefully give us some answers. Unfortunately, we live in a Muggle area and any kind of slip-up can have severe consequences.”Teddy seemed to withdraw into himself. “I don’t want to stay inside. It’ll be just like before I went to school. I’ll never get to go outside or play with friends or do anything!”Harry remembered being Teddy’s age and locked inside his cupboard again. Dudley had gleefully teased him through the air vent about how much fun he was going to have at the park with his best friend, Piers Polkiss. He remembered crying bitterly, tired of constantly being locked inside until the Dursleys saw fit to let him out. He remembered being so relieved to be allowed to go outside, even if it was only to do so many strenuous chores until he nearly collapsed. Anything to just feel the breeze across his face, or smell the grass after it rained, or to know that his world wouldn’t always be made up of cramped spaces, spiders, and the ever-consuming darkness.Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was completely different situations. If Teddy didn’t control this new ability and had an accident in front of Muggles, things could get really ugly really quickly. A shiver ran down his back at the thought of Muggles starting the next witch hunt.“I’m sorry, Teddy,” he said softly.Teddy sniffled, his head bowed low and his shoulders sunk. Harry hugged his godson, hurt when Teddy made no move to reciprocate it. He was about to pull back when Teddy sighed and slowly wrapped his arms around Harry.“When do we start training?”Harry didn’t like the dull tone Teddy used. “Tomorrow. We’ll see if it’s something that needs to be controlled right away. If it’s dormant to a certain degree, you can go back to school earlier.”Teddy brightened. “Really?” he asked hesitantly.Harry poked him on the forehead. “Have I ever lied to you?” he asked softly. “I don’t want you hurt, Teddy. It sucks that you had to train so hard to keep your Metamorphmagus abilities in check, and now with this animagus thing, but you were born with gifts. These were traits inherited from your parents, and you need to be able to control them—especially in something as ignorant as this Muggle environment. How do you think they’d feel if something happened to you because your power slipped? How do you think I’d feel?”Teddy seemed to think over Harry’s words before nodding his head in agreement. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just really like going outside and playing. I don’t want to go back to the old way.”Harry nodded his head in understanding and ran his fingers through Teddy’s hair. “There’s a few kinks that need to be worked out, but I’m sure we can compromise in the future should any issues come up. Okay?”Teddy’s nose wrinkled. “What’s compromise?”Harry laughed. “Compromise basically means to come to an agreement. We’ll meet each other half-way when we need to make decisions. I’ll respect the freedom that you want to have since you are a big boy and deserve to go outside and have fun when you do so well. However, you have to respect that it’s my job to keep you safe, and I will not fail at that. Agree?”Teddy grinned broadly. “Agree!” he exclaimed, holding out his pinky.Harry smiled and linked their pinkies together. “Now, it’s getting fairly late and you’ll need your strength for when we start to test your animagus abilities tomorrow. Get some rest.”Teddy pouted but nodded his head. “How will I do my homework?”“I’ll call the school and ask for your assignments so you don’t fall behind. Rest; I’ll take care of it.”Trying, and failing, to hide his exhausted yawn, Teddy crawled under the covers of his bed and was asleep within minutes. Harry watched as Teddy’s chest moved with ever inhale and exhale. He knew Teddy’s tantrum had little to do with missing school and more to do with being so confined again.A heavy sigh escaped him. He completely understood how Teddy felt. How could he not when he grew up with the Dursleys of all people? His own world had been so small before he knew of his celebrity status. The Dursleys, however, hadn’t severely limited his freedom to keep him safe. They’d done it for their own gain; to keep his spirit crushed in hopes that when the time came he would reject the Wizarding world, and to keep their personal house elf in line. After he found out that he was so much more than an unwanted stain on his relatives list of responsibilities, he’d felt so free. It was better than the time he slipped a few bugs in Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon’s bed, better than flying on a broom for the first time, better than riding Buckbeak, and even better than making his first friend. The burden of living with his disgusting relatives had been lifted and made him experience pure euphoria.To be continuously thrust back into an environment that never gave a damn about him, or even want him for that matter, had been infuriating. Soon every year ended the same way. He’d spend the year living in bliss—despite the numerous attempts on his life—only to be brought down to reality and, Merlin, he absolutely loathed Dumbledore for doing that to him.The person that cared for him subjected him to unwanted solitude in the name of safety. Yeah, he knew exactly how Teddy felt.Harry sighed again before standing up. He kissed Teddy’s forehead gently before shutting off the light and leaving. The house wasn’t too much of a wreck, thank goodness, so Harry was able to clean quickly and relax on the couch. His mind wandered to the wolves he’d encountered in the forest.Harry frowned. He’d never seen the wolves there before, and he’d been running through that forest for about eight years. Granted, he never consecutively ran through the foliage, but still. He’d been in the forest enough to know if some mutated wolves had gotten loose. And then, if that weren’t bad enough, one of the wolves had turned human. Human! If one could turn human, the odds of all of them also having the ability to turn human ran rather high. It worried him. The man hadn’t known what he was talking about; hadn’t known a thing about magic. If Muggles had been experimented on and gained the ability to turn into wolves, then they could put him and Teddy at danger. They could unknowingly expose magic and endanger the two wizards just by being close.Harry rubbed his temples in an attempt to get rid of his headache. He’d done what was necessary to keep his young charge safe, but when he thought about Obliviating the wolf-turned-hot-man, he felt somewhat guilty. It was bizarre, really. He’d Obliviated people before to keep his godson safe, and though he always felt a little regretful that it all had come down to that, he had never truly felt guilty for it. He’d erased the memories of Teddy accidentally changing his hair color in front of Muggles without a second thought. Harry would do anything to keep Teddy from harm’s way, and surviving the worst war Magical Europe ever had only hardened his resolve.Then he remembered the man’s—Embry’s—warm brown eyes and something tugged at his soul. The guilt increased, and Harry shook his head firmly. He did what he had to. He didn’t know if those werewolf wannabes were like Fenrir Greyback, craving the bloody flesh of small children. The image of Teddy, face pale and lips blue, at the mercy of bloodthirsty werewolves popped in his head unbidden. A shiver ran down his spine at that thought, and his resolve hardened even further.Teddy would never become some supernatural freak’s snack—not if Harry could help it.He paused in his thoughts ever-so-slightly. Despite his head running through the various horrible situations he could find Teddy in because of the wolf rejects, Harry’s gut told him that he was all wrong; that Embry wasn’t anything like Fenrir Greyback. It confused him greatly since his intuition had never been wrong, yet he clearly remembered three hostile wolves growling at him fiercely.Granted, that could be because he was an unknown wolf in the area and they were obviously a close-knit pact. Regardless, Harry was almost completely certain that he had been there first. If that was the case, then the wolves should have smelt that they were in another’s territory.Before he could further ponder on the oddity that the wolves had presented, his doorbell rang. Harry immediately stiffened and cursed himself for not paying attention. He was only slightly assured that the wards had not screeched its warnings nor did it stun whoever was at the door. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. Harry gripped his wand holster tightly and palmed the jeweled dagger at his waist (a 21st birthday gift from Charlie Weasley).He walked to the door and glanced in the peephole. He sighed in relief when he noticed it was only Sue Clearwater, an older woman he’d made acquaintances with a few years ago. In all honesty, she was probably the only person in the area that he could call friend. They’d met accidentally in the store when she had all but rammed her cart into his. After a few apologies and running into each other a few times, they’d randomly decided to have a bi-monthly brunch.He learned that she was married (and her husband just so happened to have the same first name; such a small world, he’d thought) with two children, and she always smelled like a wolf. He wasn’t too surprised at that, considering Quileute legend stated that Q’wati was a wolf before transforming into a human. It was rather fascinating to him, actually, and Sue had been more than happy to share her culture and beliefs with the foreigner.She learned that he was an orphan, from Britain, and trying to provide his godson with a better life than he had (or at least, that was the vibe she’d gotten from him). Despite the age difference, Harry had been really easy to talk to and offered her an interesting perspective to the random in-depth conversations they’d have. He was also surprisingly wise and seemed so much older than he looked.Harry smiled as he opened the door. “Sue,” he greeted. “This is a surprise.”Sue Clearwater smiled apologetically in return. “Hello Harry. I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”Harry frowned slightly in concern. “Is everything alright?” he asked with obvious worry.Sue hesitated slightly. “I understand that you met a…wolf pack in the forest earlier,” she said slowly, brown eyes gauging his reaction.Sheer will alone prevented Harry from stiffening. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at her and inspected her face. She presented no negative feelings, only curiosity and…hope? Harry briefly contemplated his next course of action. Well, she was still within the wards so she obviously meant him no harm. “And how would you know about that?” he asked coolly.Sue’s shoulders seemed to sag ever-so-slightly with relief. “So it was you,” she said with a small smile. “I wasn’t exactly sure, but I’m happy they got the right person.”“They?” Harry questioned, feeling more confused than alarmed; a fact that seemed to be an oddity, considering how sharp his war-honed skills were.“I suppose I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Sue began. “Um, could I perhaps come in? I’d like to explain everything to you. It’s rather important.”Harry thought about it. On the one hand, he didn’t want anything to do with something that could potentially jeopardize Teddy’s safety. On the other hand, his gut was telling him to take a chance and find out everything he could about the potential threat before passing any judgment. And, well, if he doubted the truth about anything, it wouldn’t be his intuition. Nibbling his lower lip, Harry nodded his head slowly. It would be better to find out as much as he could about the strange wolves before deciding on anything.Sue’s face brightened with a warm smile. “Thank you,” she said sincerely as Harry stepped aside to let her in.Harry surveyed the area around his home before closing the door and leading the older woman into his living room. Manners had him asking Sue to wait for him for a moment while he went into the kitchen to prepare tea and biscuits. A familiar scenario came to mind; he’d done the same thing when Andromeda came to deliver the guardianship papers to him. That night was forever burned in his mind. It was quiet as he brought the tea and biscuits to the coffee table in his living room. The silence almost became awkward, but Harry smiled at Sue, hid his nervous feelings, and played the proper host. “Now, how do you know about the wolves I met?” he asked, blunt and straight to the point like the Gryffindor he was.Sue seemed to think something over before nodding her head. “You remember the tales I told you? Of how Q’wati transformed from a wolf to a human and was the first of the Quileute tribe?”Harry hummed in affirmation. “From your response, am I right in assuming that the legends are, in fact, real?”Sue smiled kindly at him. “Yes. We call it the shape shifter gene, and it doesn’t occur in every Quileute. Certain circumstances have to be met before they shift.”Harry thought it over. “What circumstances are those?”A grimace appeared over Sue’s warm features. “Quileutes shift in response to vampires in the area,” she admitted. “It’s to protect the surrounding humans.”The only evidence of Harry’s reaction to the news was his grip tightening on the handle of his teacup. “There are vampires. Here. In Forks.” His tone was flat, almost disbelieving and yet showed how much of a war-hardened warrior he was.Sue’s grimace turned into an outright flinch. “Yes,” she said softly. “You’re taking this rather well, though I guess you would be aware of vampires considering your own ability to shift.”“I’m a Wizard,” Harry admitted, slightly surprised when Sue just nodded calmly.“There was a witch in the family,” she elaborated. “Though I’ll admit I wasn’t exactly privy to that information until,” she paused and glanced at the clock, “an hour ago.”Harry hummed. “So the wolves are relatives of yours?”“My nephew is the alpha to the wolf pack you came across,” Sue explained. “The pack is small right now, but we’re afraid it’ll grow. There have been attacks within a hundred mile radius—vampire attacks.”Harry sighed and set his tea down, bringing his hand up to rub his temples. Eight years of bliss in a relatively unknown American town would soon come to an end; he should’ve known it was too good to be true. He briefly wondered whether or not he should just take Teddy and run to another town or country, but he knew he wouldn’t. Not only would it mean uprooting Teddy from an area he’d known his whole life, his gut instincts were telling him to stay put. Last time Harry checked, vampires equaled becoming a happy meal, and he wasn’t too keen on becoming fine cuisine.Maybe he should have his intuition looked at. After eight years of no activity, it could be a little rusty.Harry sat straight, startling Sue for a moment. “Is there anything else I should know?” he asked. He ran through various wards in his mind, trying to decide which extra protections to weave through the area surrounding his house.Sue hesitated. “There is,” she said slowly, “and I would need to bring the pack into your house to explain it further.”“No,” Harry said immediately, shaking his head. “Teddy’s here, and he’s going through some…changes. Not here.”“My house in La Push then,” she conceded, staring into his eyes and willing him to understand the importance of him meeting the pack.He couldn’t, of course, because it wasn’t her place to tell him the role he would have in Embry’s life; whether or not that role was wanted didn’t matter. The fact remained that, ultimately, Harry would have Embry’s life on his shoulders. Whatever he wanted, Embry would make sure it happened. The bond would allow no less. That would normally worry her. When her husband had approached her with news of Embry’s imprinting over a stranger, she almost had a heart attack. The thought of a stranger having so much control over the life of someone she knew was terrifying.But then she found out Embry’s imprintee was Harry Potter, the kind, sweet, and responsible young man she normally met twice a month for talks. Her worries were instantly soothed and she knew if, in time, Harry wasn’t interested in Embry romantically, he would at least be a friend. It was a lot better Embry imprinting on someone who would outright reject the young shifter without a second thought over the consequences. She shuddered to think what might happen if that were the case. Every time she thought of a shifter imprinting on someone in the history of her tribe, there had been happy endings—eventually. After finding out that Sue personally knew Embry’s imprintee, it hadn’t been hard to convince the tribe to allow her to talk to Harry. She had the greatest chance of Harry actually listening to her and convincing him that it would be in his best interests to listen to Embry afterwards.“I don’t know,” Harry said hesitantly. “Teddy’s quite tired, and he needs to rest. I can’t leave him alone.”“My daughter can watch him,” Sue replied instantly, feeling like she was grasping at straws. “She acts tough, but she has a soft spot for children.”Harry paused. He didn’t really like the idea of leaving Teddy with someone he didn’t know, but Sue wasn’t the type of woman to endanger children. He would have refused outright, but he saw the urgent look on her face along with a tinge of desperation in her eyes. “How long will this take?”“An hour and a half, maybe two.” Sue stared at him hopefully.Harry hesitated once more before he sighed, resigned, and nodded his head. “Let’s make this quick, okay? I don’t feel completely comfortable with leaving him with someone else when he was feeling a little sick earlier.”Sue beamed. “Thank you,” she said happily, standing up and drawing him into a hug. “You have no idea how much this means to the pack.” Well, he soon would. Sue pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and stood. “May I use your phone to let my daughter know?”Harry nodded his head and waited with Sue for her daughter to arrive. He stared hard at Leah, searching for just the tiniest bit of malice and wandlessly scanning her for ill intent, regardless of the fact that the wards wouldn’t have allowed her on the property otherwise. It wasn’t until he showed her Teddy’s room where the boy was sleeping and her eyes softened ever-so-slightly that he decided to actually let Leah sit in the house and wait until Harry returned.He quickly penned a note for Teddy and left, offering the slumbering child a soft kiss on the temple.The ride to Sue’s house was kind of awkward, but that could have just been his nerves. He took several discreet deep breaths (or at least he hoped they were; if Sue noticed anything off, she never said a word) and followed her into her house.As soon as he stepped through the door, he was attacked.
|
10095548
|
February Dares
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Harry Potter, Other(s), Draco Malfoy",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by NiftyBob [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "6/6",
"completed": "2009-05-12",
"published": "2006-10-29T00:00:00",
"words": "2,070",
"Additional Tags": "Slash, Explicit Language, Sexual Content, Humor, Parody, Romance",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
"YOU TOLD HIM TO WHAT!?!" Everyone in the Slytherin common room heard Pansy screech, common occurrence but it was usually some unlucky bloke's name."You heard me," Blaise said, flipping another page of his Playwizard."How could you dare Drakey to do such a horrible thing?" she asked, desperate for understanding, oh what a dumb witch."Pansy, you can’t tell me that you still think there is a shot for you and Draco?" Blaise said, eyebrow raised looking at the brunette through the space above his reading glasses. Seeing the look on her face he shook his head, "Pansy, Draco is gay, G...A...Y... I don’t know how else we are going to explain this to you.""But we're set to marry after graduation," She whined dropping herself on the boy's bed, much to his annoyance."First of all, I don’t know what kind of marriage you would ever have with a man who likes taking it up his bullocks," Blaise smirked, relishing in the look of horror on her puggish face. "And second, you go around Slytherin faster than Snape hands out detentions, do you really think Draco would put up with having his bride tainted by half of Hogwarts?""How dare you!" she cried, lifting up her hand, only to have it grabbed from where it was poised to slap the Italian boy. "I wouldn’t do that Pansy," he warned, "Draco is as protective of his friends as he is of his lovers.""I'll stop this from happening, no matter what you say." With that she turned and ran from the room, she needed a plan and she needed one soon."Ahhhhhhhh...I love all the drama that comes with February Dares," smirked Blaise.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: Okay so second chapter up...for those who dont know i'm writing this fic so that i can spent time before writing the last installment of AIHEWC because i've gotten like 4 votes so far and i was aiming for fifteen before writing the last part. So if you read my last story, Go Vote On Your Favorite Sequel!
The Previous Day... "Well Seventh years, you've all seen the procedure, but I don’t think your predecessors told you the point system," Snape drawled from the fireplace, where his head was surrounded in green flames, "It goes as follows, after you have picked a dare for the person whose name you picked, you will assign levels of this dare.""Levels?" murmured some, while others looked around in confusion."Yes levels," he continued, rolling his eyes impatiently. "You will make at least one level before the dare is actually completed where the person will receive one point for at least trying it, this is for those whose dares involve someone else who is unwilling to cooperate." Snape looked around at the kids making sure everyone got what he meant. "After you have picked this first level, you can add as many as you want, in increasing order points wise, the maximum points allowed are twenty, but I beg of you do not make twenty sodding levels," he sighed exasperated at the groan that followed that statement. "The dare can be the very last level, or a level close to it, I've found that those who wish to add a level or two after the dare, makes the game all the more interesting.""Professor," Millicent stepped forward, "Last year I heard something about a bet going around also during this time.""Oh yes, thank you for reminding me Ms. Bulstrode," everyone's eyes widened at the smirk that crossed the potions master's face, "There will also be a board in my personal office of the dares issued so that everyone can be aware of what the others have to do, and then there is a clipboard where you may place bets of if you think that the person doing a certain dare will complete it, or to what level they will get."Oohs and ahhs went around the room like wildfire as everyone realized that they would know what everyone else was going to be doing too. And then there were the extra financially stable ones who were excited at the opportunity to gamble away some of the coins littering their pockets."Settle down," the growl's effect was immediate, even if he wasn't in a room Severus Snape was a force to be reckoned with. "Keep in mind that if you place a bet, there is no way of removing it, and no way of changing the amount, as for the person you are betting about, if they complete the dare and everyone has voted against it, they get the money, regardless if they bet or not, and any bets placed the same the winners will have the money distributed evenly amongst them.""So if we all think someone can’t do a bet, and they do it they get the galleons?" asked Greg stupidly."That's what was implied Mr. Goyle, good luck ladies and gentlemen, the hat will be waiting for each of you to draw a name tomorrow morning," and with that he pulled out of the fire."Oooh," said Vince, "I hope I get Pansy's name, then I can dare her to keep her legs closed for two weeks."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: dont worry 4 is in processing.
CHAPTER 3After much anticipation, the next day finally came, and all of the seventh years ran down the stairs like Christmas had come once again in that school year. Gathering his students into his office, Severus charmed the hat to fly around the room as it picked the best candidate to hand a certain name to. And so the games begun.*****“Yes!” said Draco triumphantly, “I got your name Blaise.”“Don’t be so cocky Draco, yours is in my hand,” replied the Italian, smirking at the way his best friend paled.*****“Okay everyone,” said the Professor once everyone had gotten a name. “You all have one day to pick a dare for your person, and then I want to see them written on this board by six PM tomorrow, or your dares will be forfeit.”And with that everyone went to plot. Very few of them got who they actually wanted to dare, but then when you have everyone targeting Pansy there is bound to be many disappointed.Throughout the next morning everyone made their way down to Snape’s office at some point in time and wrote the dares on the board. Then they specified the level and got a print-out from the quick-write-quill that was making copies, so that they could hand them to the person.At dinner everyone went around excitedly talking to eachother as they awaited the hoard of owls they knew would be coming in to distribute the dares, and disappointed they were not.Most of the Slytherins were mad, some embarrassed, and some outright laughing off their arses, but every one of them was ready to win the game.And so it begun… ***A.N. Sorry this chap was short the next one is coming up soon…and if you know my writing, I start off with short chapters and then I go longer and longer. So thank you those of you who are reading my story so far.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: the dares are out. And my chaps are lengthening.
CHAPTER 4Draco,You knew I wasn’t going to make this easy. But I wont make it un-doable either. I want you, to conquer Griffidor’s golden boy. To complete the dare you have to get a kiss from Potter with at least three witnesses, and it has to be voluntary from his part. Since there is that point rule, you will get a point if you get him to talk to you civilly for at least ten minutes, without the use of his, or your wand. Unless he is going to use his other wand, in which case you get ten extra points to the dare. I have spelled the parchment so that if you sign at the bottom, you give your consent to try to pursue Harry Potter, and each time something happens it writes it down at the bottom. Of course you will keep the paper and when in need to prove something actually happened you may bring this paper out and show me. The dare has already been written on the board, and I wish you the best of luck.Your best friend,Blaise Draco stared in shock at the letter. What in the seven hells was wrong with the boy’s head? Of course the dare was do-able but how in the world was he supposed to live past it. If Weasley didn’t AK him for looking at his best friend funny, then the Dark Lord was coming back to life. Again. Blaise,Refer to Pansy’s letter. I decided to make yours halfway easy. And decided that you will do the same dare as Pansy. I wish you luck, well more than I wish her anyway.Draco He had the same dare as Pansy? What did that mean. “Hey, Pans,” he hollered down the Slytherin table, “What’s your dare?”“I have to get into Professor Snape’s pants,” the girl said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Millicent hates me that much, everyone knows I have standards.”At that most of the table burst out laughing, except some of the still mostly naive first years. And then there was Draco who was laughing, with tears in his eyes, this was going to be good. Knowing the girl, she wouldn’t stop until she had gotten the dare done, and his godfather was gay. Oh this was going to be too good.Looking across the great hall, his gaze locked with that of a green-eyed Griffindor’s, and he came to the conclusion, that he didn’t mind his dare. He didn’t mind at all.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: Guys I'm so sorry. I've got like a million things going on right now. College apps. Getting transcripts. Getting scores. And a ton of homework, usually from the class that I want to major in anyways. Ugh I'm so sorry it's short too, but i'll have more up soon I promise.
CHAPTER 5“You like that Draco?” just a whisper.“Mm, yes,” he moaned back.“You dirty little Slytherin,” a growl this time, “you actually like taking it from the boy who lived?”“What?” Draco mumbled realizing what had been said.“I said Pansy actually yelled at me for making you go for the boy who lived,” Blaise apparently repeated.“Blaise what the bloody hell are you doing in my bed?” Draco growled pulling up the bedsheets to conceal the obvious morning wood he was currently trying to will down.“Did you seriously just wake up?” asked Blaise.“Well it appears so, you damn Hufflepuf, get the hell out of my four poster!” Draco yelled waking up his bodyguards.“Fine I’ll see you at breakfast,” Blaise conceded getting up from the bed, “Give you some time to wank that into submission.”And with that he laughed and ran out leaving an embarrassed grumbling blonde in his wake.*****Harry looked up from his meal as a certain blonde walked into the Great Hall, actually everyone looked up from their meals. The girls were drooling, and the boys were jealous, and Harry was clueless. Everyone stared as Draco walked up to the Slytherin table, unbuttoned robes flowing around him as he sat down next to Blaise, silver-blue eyes shining from between the long blonde lashes. It was kind of pretty, not that Harry would think such a thing, and nonetheless of the biggest pain in his ass now that Voldemort was gone.But he couldn’t help but stare, it was as if he had been hexed into looking at Dra-Malfoy, and he soon found out why. As Malfoy sat down he had the audacity to wink at none other than Harry.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: Announcement
Well...I probably should have announced this a long time ago, but all of my unfinished stories are on hiatus. I'm so busy with college, and my hectic life that I barely have time to sleep. I promise I will finish this story, I make no promises when though. Anyone who has me favorited, thank you for your interest in my story, and the website will alert you when I do have a break to finish the story. Thank you, Nifty.
|
10068944
|
come out to meet me run
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/F",
"Characters": "Luisa Alver, Rose Solano",
"Fandom": "Jane the Virgin (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by devereauxed",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00",
"words": "1,059",
"Additional Tags": "Angst, Canon Compliant, post 2x22, Return From the Dead Kiss",
"Relationship": "Luisa Alver/Rose Solano",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "25 Kisses",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“It’s time to go.”Rose was standing in front of her holding out her hand and asking her to run away with her.And she was very much alive.I’ve lost my fucking mind, Luisa thought desperately.“Luisa?”For the first time since Rose had walked in Luisa saw her confidence waver, her outstretched hand dropping slightly. Luisa’s breathing got faster, her mind spinning.“Luisa. Hey. Look at me,” Rose said softly. The brunette’s eyes snapped to the blue ones considering her with concern. “It’s okay. I know. This is real. I promise you, this is real. I’m sorry. This isn’t how I planned to do this.”Rose hesitantly stepped forward, putting her hands up soothingly.“I know this is a lot. I promise I’ll explain everything, but we need to go. Now.”Rose had moved within arms reach of Luisa, and she could tell that she wanted to reach out and touch her but was holding back. Her eyes roamed the woman standing in front of her, focusing irrationally on the outfit she was wearing, trying to reconcile Susanna’s suit with Rose’s face. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized she could see Rose’s chest moving up and down with each breath she took. Her mind flashed to the image of Rose’s lifeless body – pale, horribly still, nearly unrecognizable when compared to the woman standing in front of her. Breathing. Alive. Alive. Alivealivealive. Luisa struggled to form a cohesive thought. Without thinking, almost unaware of her actions, she reached forward tentatively. This was seemingly the green light that Rose had been waiting for, and she reached out to meet her, softly grasping Luisa’s hands in her own. Luisa’s mind quieted slightly at the touch, the racing thoughts relegated to the back of her mind, at least for the moment.“You’re real,” Luisa whispered.“Yes,” Rose answered simply, almost apologetic.Luisa looked down at their clasped hands, and wondered wildly how she hadn’t recognized them before. Her mind formed an unbidden answer – she hadn’t had them on her, not really. She knew Rose’s touch. She dreamt of it. In her grief she’d assumed that any twinge of recognition was wishful thinking. She slid one of her hands up to Rose’s wrist and applied pressure, the doctor in her needing to corroborate what she was seeing; Rose’s pulse pounded beneath Luisa’s fingertips, in contrast with her outwardly calm, confident exterior. Luisa smiled to herself slightly, somehow comforted that she could still rattle her.“Lu,” Rose said quietly, and Luisa raised her eyes back to Rose’s face.There was one more thing Luisa needed in order to convince herself this wasn’t a dream or a hallucination, something she didn’t think even her grief-stricken brain could make seem real. She pitched forward and pressed her lips hard against Rose’s. Rose wasn’t prepared for the sudden weight of Luisa against her, but quickly found her balance and returned the kiss eagerly.Goosebumps ran up Luisa’s arms and across her neck, and she felt a rush up her spine – this was real. Rose was alive. Rose had come back for her. She wrapped her arms around her neck as Rose slid her arms tightly around her waist. She didn’t understand how she could possibly have been kissing the same woman hours ago at Jane and Michael’s wedding, and the only answer that would mollify her in that moment was keeping them separate. That was Susanna, but this – this was Rose.Luisa ran her tongue along Rose’s bottom lip, and Rose opened her mouth to allow her to deepen the kiss. Rose dug her nails into Luisa’s back lightly in response, and the brunette moaned into her mouth.Suddenly Rose pulled away from the kiss and leaned her forehead against Luisa’s, breathing heavily.“Come with me,” she whispered, after a moment.Luisa closed her eyes. The list of reasons why she couldn’t do this, why she shouldn’t, why it was the worst possible decision she could make – and she’d made some questionable choices in her time – ran through her mind at once. Mateo. Her father. The mental institution. Sin Rostro. She knew the fact that she was even considering running away with Rose was unthinkable, but her mind offered one thing above all the obvious reasons why she shouldn’t – Rose was alive. She had returned from the dead, literally returned from the dead, and was standing before her, her blue eyes vulnerable, waiting for an answer. She’d come back for her against all the odds, and surprisingly, despite every awful thing Rose had done to her, at the end of the day she was the only person in the world whose love Luisa didn’t question.She finally allowed herself to consider the thought she’d been trying so hard to repress: Rafael thought that his life would be easier without her. She could tell. He never said it, but it was there. Even when she’d told him how she felt about Susanna, her sobriety, even earning back his trust, he wasn’t there. She’d made mistakes, and she knew it. This entire situation began with her having one bad day. But look what had come of it. Wasn’t Mateo worth it in the end? She was tired of being the only one to admit her mistakes, to make an effort to change. Raf wasn’t blameless, but he certainly thought that he was.He wasn’t on her side anymore. It was that simple. To him, her addiction, her relapses, they were an inconvenience. Her addiction was a constant battle and lately it was one she’d had to fight without the support of her family. The only person she’d had on her side was Susanna.
Oh. Of course.
Regardless of whatever else was happening between them, Rose had always supported her when it came to her sobriety, even when their relationship made it harder, as twisted as that was. From the moment they met, Rose had accepted that part of Luisa without a second thought and that never wavered. When Rose’s death had been the catalyst for her relapse, Susanna had stepped in to help, to get her help. Of course it was Rose. Luisa felt dizzy.It was too much. This was too much.Her mind spun. Rafael. Mateo. Her father. Dead. Susanna. Rose. Dead. Rose. Alive. Alive.She took a deep breath.“Okay. Let’s go.”
|
10050629
|
The Joy of Parenthood
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Severus Snape, Harry Potter",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by DarkCorgi",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2004-11-01T00:00:00",
"words": "2,095",
"Additional Tags": "Slash, Sexual Content, Humor, Parody, Romance",
"Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Don't Rock the Cradle",
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing with them out of sheer boredom.Note: Part of the 6th wave of the Dusk Till Dawn Harry Potter/Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest at www.kardasi.com. The Life Moves on Challenge.A/N: This story is a sequel to 'Don't Rock The Cradle' part of the 5th wave of Dusk till Dawn.Beta: The wonder Magdelena! Much thanks for the twelfth hour beta! Buttons flew everywhere as the two men tore at the clothing separating them. They kissed with fiery passion. They were lovers, mates, but this wasn't about love. It was about unadulterated animalistic need. They weren't gentle. They didn't go slowly. They were in a race against time and their need had to be satisfied. The taller of the two growled in frustration as the clothing on the other refused to give way and he grabbed his wand. With a muttered word their clothes vanished leaving them with nothing to separate them. The taller picked up his slighter partner and tossed him to the bed. They didn't bother with exploration as they didn't need to build their arousal further. The taller swiftly, roughly prepared his smaller lover and when the mental clock ticked down, he entered the moaning body as slowly as his need would allow him. He didn't want to hurt the slighter man beneath him, though he didn't think the other man would notice the pain. His normally bright green eyes were darkened in lust to the shade of pine needles-. The green-eyed man didn't give him a second to adjust to the tight channel gripping his prick before demanding that he move and move quickly. Knowing that time was against them he began to thrust, adjusting his angle each time in search of his mate's sensitive gland. Pleasure built in the pit of his stomach and he moved rapidly in and out of his partner. Both man moaned as they neared completion. Faster and faster they moved as they raced to the brink. Then it happened. It was a force more powerful than any known magic. They did their best to ignore it, but it grew louder and stronger still. It was so powerful that the most cold-hearted man would fold beneath it. It broke their rhythm and withered their erections. It shattered that much needed moment and pulled the two men apart. It was the sound of their son's cries as it echoed throughout their quarters. "The fifth time this week he's screamed while we were in bed. Is the little monster psychic?" Harry nearly cried in frustration. Severus only sighed and rolled out of bed. "I'll take care of him. I'm sure he ran you ragged while I was teaching. I heard him racing down the hallway, dragging you behind him all afternoon." Severus told his bonded as he pulled on his clothes. "Thanks, Severus. I may strangle him in frustration if I went near him right now." Harry shifted onto his knees so he could kiss his husband before the man left to take care of their son. Severus walked to the nursery and lifted his screaming son from the cot. He swiftly changed the soiled nappy and carried the now dry infant into the kitchen in search of a bottle. Once that mission was accomplished he brought his nine month old son into the sitting room and held him as he drank his bottle. "I hope you weren't hoping for a younger sibling to play with, Xavier." Severus told his son. The young boy just looked at him with innocent eyes and smiled around the nipple in his mouth. "Don't give me that 'I haven't a clue what you're talking about' look. You know what you've done and you're enjoying every minute of it." Xavier just drooled, burped and smiled at his father as the man spoke to him. He just enjoyed listening to his father's voice much like his daddy did. Xavier was a happy child and had both parents wrapped around his tiny pinky. Actually he had every adult and the majority of the students in the school under his control. Good thing for all of them that he wasn't capable of abusing that power, yet. Once the youngest of the Snapes was fed and sleeping again in his cot, his weary father returned to bed stripping off the clothes he hastily donned an hour earlier, several items of which weren't his to begin with. He fell into bed beside his soul mate and quickly fell asleep. Nights like this were now a frequent occurrence in the Snape household. Every time Severus and Harry found some time to themselves, Xavier screamed like a banshee. It was becoming very frustrating for both men as they both needed to reaffirm their love for each other by means other than words. Harry was at wits end. No matter when he put the child to bed the moment he and Severus were becoming intimate the infant would wake up crying. The next day was a Saturday and Severus was spared the task of teaching the dunderheads for the weekend. He holed up in his private laboratory in the early afternoon and was surprised when Harry snuck in. He normally didn't enter Severus lab and when he did it was for some emergency. He did have an emergency, but it wasn't something dealing with the school. Harry was determined to complete what was interrupted the night before. Severus was surprised when Harry went to his knees and feverishly began undoing part of his robe and his trousers. He quickly understood Harry's objective when the younger man's hand dove into his pants and withdrew his cock. Severus shivered when Harry ran his tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his member and he felt himself hardening quickly at his husband's touch. When he was fully hard Harry gobbled up his cock like a starving man and settled into a steady rhythm. Severus moaned as Harry sucked on him and he buried his hands in the younger man's hair just so they had something to do. He could feel his insides coiling as Harry hummed around his cock. The pressure built quickly and he could feel his balls drawing up as Harry worked his prick like a master. He was almost there when Xavier let out a piercing wail. Harry tried to ignore it, knowing that Severus was close to completion. He succeeded quite well until the sound of shattering glass echoed through the room. "Shit, the bottle." Harry gasped as he released his husband’s cock and raced to the nursery. "I left a bottle to warm on his dresser." He shouted as he ran to their son's room. Severus zipped up his pants, then followed quickly and was relieved to notice that their son wasn't hurt. A surge of pride filled him when he realized that their son just showed the first sign that he was a wizard by attempting to levitate the bottle from the dresser; not that Severus doubted it, but it was a sign of how powerful he would be as an adult. He noticed a light that matched his in Harry's eyes and knew that Harry recognized their son's potential. "I do wish he'd let someone other than Mum watch him. She's already overburdened with the rest of the kids." Harry said in a tired voice. "I wouldn't hurt to ask Molly if she could take him for the afternoon. I doubt that she would say no. I think I heard her complaining to Minerva that she doesn't see enough of Xavier." Severus responded in a quiet voice as he watched Harry change their boy. "All right, I'll floo her when I'm done feeding the little monster his lunch." "I'll feed him. You call Molly." Severus said as he scooped up Xavier. Harry made his way to the fireplace and scooped out a hand full of floo powder. He threw the powder into the fireplace and shouted 'The Burrow' and a few moments later found himself looking into the Weasley's kitchen. "Mum, are you home?" He called out hoping that someone was nearby. "Harry! Is everything all right dear?" Molly Weasley asked with a worried frown. "Nothing's wrong, but I'd love to know how you managed to have so many children if any of them did what Xavier's been doing." Harry sighed. "Let me guess. He's been screaming the moment you and Severus get some alone time." Molly smiled in sympathy. "Dead in the black, Mum. It's frustrating to say the least. There are moments I want to drown him." "My poor baby. Why don't you let me take him for the rest of the weekend? Ginny's going to be here so I'll have plenty of help while watching Xavier and Bill's two girls." "Would you?" Harry sounded pathetic to his own ears, but he was desperate for a break. "Yes, I would. Now run along and get my grandson ready. I'll drop him off Sunday after dinner. All right?" "Yes! Thank you, Mum!!!" Harry vanished quickly and ran to Xavier's room. He immediately transfigured an outgrown shirt into an overnight bag and filled it with a couple of changes of clothes. He packed the nappies and all of the bottles Dobby made that morning. He knew that his mum would take care of the mashed food for lunch and dinner. Just as quickly as he entered the room he exited and stood impatiently as Severus finished feeding Xavier his cereal. "Is it safe to assume that Molly is taking our son?" Severus asked with an amused look in his eye. "Yes. She's taking him for the rest of the weekend. We'll finally have sometime to ourselves and if we're bothered we can legitimately hex who ever it is." "Well let's not keep your grandmother waiting, Xavier." The three made their way to the fireplace and flooed to the Burrow. Once sure their son was settled at his grandparents' house they fled back to their rooms. "Merlin, I've missed having you all to myself." Harry panted as Severus sucked on his sensitive earlobe. "Stop talking!" Severus replied as he began removing Harry's clothes. They had no more need for words. They let their hands do all the talking and when they finally joined they only communicated in primal grunts and groans. Severus slipped his ridged cock into Harry's hot channel and slowly stroked in and out. He was determined to make this last as long as he could. Each time he pushed back in Harry met him by thrusting upwards. The friction along his length pushed him further and further along until he couldn't resist moving faster. As he began pounding away in earnest, Harry cheered him on while he fisted his own cock in time to Severus' movements. Severus leaned forward as he sought a better angle to thrust into the willing body beneath him. Faster and faster he went as he felt his climax building in his stomach. Harry was babbling nonstop and nearly blew Severus' eardrums away as he came with a scream. Harry's channel tightened around his cock like Nagini would her prey when she was in a foul mood. It was so tight and felt so good. Severus managed to thrust several more times before the pressure became too much and ripped his climax from him. He came, moaning Harry's name as he did so. Severus collapsed on top of his husband when his limbs turned to jelly. He could feel Harry go limp beneath him and both men panted from exertion. After he managed to gain control of his limbs he rolled to the side and pulled Harry into his arms. He ran his hands along his husband's body in a soothing motion and felt Harry's do the same to him. Slowly they came down from the euphoria and allowed the universe to fall back into alignment before casting charms to clean themselves and the sheet of the evidence of their exertion. "We really need to get Molly to watch him more often. I don't think I could do without this time with you. I may go mad if we have another week like this one." Severus whispered in Harry's ear. "I second that motion. Now, how about we catch a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep?" "Sound like a plan to me, love." "Good! 'Night, love." Harry replied and both men allowed themselves to be drawn into the first free evening they had for a while.
|
10007618
|
An Unexpected Encounter
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Katie Bell, Marcus Flint",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Katie_Flint",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "1,000",
"Additional Tags": "enchanted stairwell, hogwarts ua, drunk!katie",
"Relationship": "Katie Bell/Marcus Flint",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Marcus finds Katie as he’s heading to the dungeons. She’s sitting on the stairwell steps and he’s only just getting in from a Quidditch practice that’s run late. Marcus wants to ignore her, really. After all, it’s frankly none of his business what she’s doing there, but Marcus can’t help himself.“You shouldn’t be here, Bell.”The question comes out more like a snarl because Marcus is tired and put out with his own lack of self-restraint. He should just leave the Gryffindor chaser here and be on his way. Merlin knows he’s in need of a good shower, not just for the stench wafting from him, but for his growing bruises as well.“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion,” She fires back and that, is definitely not a question.That’s why Marcus likes Katie, he remembers. She’s a spitfire, on and off the field. A lot braver than most are dealing with someone like himself. Troll-blooded, he’s heard the Gryffindor first years whisper. Like hell. Most Flints can hardly even look at halfbloods. Fornicating with a troll would send one of them over the ever-loving edge.Katie though, she wears Marcus the right way, most of the time. And he's never opposed when they lock brooms out on the field. It gives him an excuse to get close and personal with that firm body of hers. A welcome view if he's ever seen, (or felt), one.Leaning in closer to sneer in Katie’s face, Marcus is surprised by the strong aroma of alcohol lacing her breath. He hadn't noticed before, exhausted and reeking himself. His eyes come alight with a devilish glee.“Been drinking, Bell?” Marcus imagines he must look quite gruesome in this moment, but to her credit she doesn't flinch, “What would Captain Wood say?”“He's can sod off,” Katie growls, leaning closer, perhaps to intimidate him, “And so can you, Flint.”It only makes Marcus want to laugh, but he resists. If only because his sides ache from practice.‘The little lioness had claws’, Marcus muses as Katie tries batting at him rather pitifully, clearly displeased by his mirth.Marcus can't help himself then, laughing aloud at the uncoordinated assault, only making the inebriated girl crosser with him, “What’s the matter, have a spat with your lover?”“You-” Katie reaches for her wand, but Marcus grabs her wrists firmly, hardly wanting to discover what damage she might cause in such a state.“Oh come off it Bell, we’ve all seen the way you ogle him at practice,” Marcus heaves her against himself, pulling her up from the stairs as she fights to get free of him. Eventually he wins, but not without an admirable amount of resistance.Despite this closeness, Marcus still can’t quite hear what she mumbles into his muddy uniform.“What?” Marcus says dumbly.“It’s not- Not Oliver,” There’s a blush on those already rosy cheeks. If not Wood…Uncertain, but confident enough to play it off, a leer spreads wide across his lips, “Who then, Bell?-- Davises? Weasley?... Purdy?”At Adrian’s name, the brunette makes such a face, Marcus’ thinks she might actually hurl on him, “Not him,- You.”There’s silence in the stairwell, and Marcus suddenly feels closer to Katie than he ought be. If he lets her go, Marcus knows she’ll probably fall on her face.He lets go anyway.“Not funny, Bell,” Her name comes out sharper than he meant it to, but he doesn’t make any effort to correct himself. He doesn't know what- who- he was expecting, but not himself. Not that he's willing to admit.Katie stumbles, falling into the wall. She looks at him, eyes filling with a sentiment Marcus can’t quite identify, and then her head falls suddenly, her hair consuming those blazing cheeks, "I think, I might have had a few shots too many..."“Shite,” Marcus breathes shallowly, “...You think?”He doesn't know what else to say.Katie Bell, the enemy, has just admitted she fancies him; albeit unintentionally. Marcus wants to have a field day with the knowledge but there’s something about her in this moment that stops him. Girls like Katie don’t like guys like him, especially not little lionesses, and she’s just presented him with a golden vulnerability.He could latch onto it, consuming it whole like a snake does its prey, but then he’d have lost it too soon. No, Marcus wants to know just how deep this feeling goes… If it’s even really there.And if it’s there, well, Marcus hasn’t really figured that far ahead...“I should go,” Katie’s voice spills from behind her veil of locks, and she makes for a quick getaway.It’s clumsy, and Marcus hardly has any trouble wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her to him once again, “Not so fast.”He feels her heartbeat quicken, pounding against her ribcage, but she doesn’t struggle this time.“Can’t have you walking back unescorted. The next person to catch you might not be so, generous, with your jokes.”Katie makes a disgruntled noise, despite her embarrassment, and she twists in his arms, a fire blazing in her eyes almost as bright as the flush on her cheeks, “It’s not a joke!”“Oh?” Marcus sneers in her face, “You really fancy this mug?”“As a matter of fact, I do-- It's your talking I can't stand!” Surging forward Katie catches him off guard, bashing their teeth together painfully.Marcus grunts from the unexpected pain but Katie hardly seems to notice it. Tough little thing she is, and terribly drunk too.All the same, it's not a half bad kiss and when Katie finally pulls away, Marcus thinks she not the only one with reddened cheeks now.“Not half bad, Bell.”“I should think not,” Katie huffs, looking blatantly proud of her actions, “Now, are you going to walk me back to my dorm?”“Are you sure you want to go?” Marcus raises a brow.“Hm, yes,” Katie grins, “But not just yet.”
|
10079477
|
Erreur
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/F",
"Characters": "Chu Chu (Show By Rock!!), Moa (Show By Rock!!)",
"Fandom": "Show By Rock!! (Anime)",
"Language": "Français",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Nozumire",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00",
"words": "358",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, No Dialogue, Fluff, Angst, FanFiction.Net: Nuit du FoF, Chu Chu (Show By Rock!!)-centric",
"Relationship": "Chu Chu/Moa",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Il n'y avait qu'une seule chose qui comptait réellement pour Chuchu : la réussite.Le succès, la perfection, peu importe le nom, elle n'avait qu'un seul objectif et elle était prête à tout pour l'atteindre. Si pour cela elle devait se lier d'amitié avec un petit groupe sans aucun intérêt et s'en servir de tremplin, elle le ferait sans aucun regret, sans un regard en arrière, et avec le sourire.Son rêve était de devenir célèbre, pas de se faire écraser par une petite fille venue de nulle part et qui n'avait jamais jouer dans un groupe de toute sa vie. Elle voulait faire quelque chose de sa vie, devenir quelqu'un de grand, quelqu'un qui inspirerait les gens. L'ombre n'était pas faite pour elle, elle voulait briller de mille feux, être sous les projecteurs, elle voulait être vue.Alors c'était sans regret qu'elle était allée voir ailleurs. Elle avait fait ses bagages, pris sa guitare, et n'avait pas hésité plus que ça avant de s'en aller.Mais une fois loin de ses amies, elle réalisa. Elle réalisa que ce n'était pas de cette façon qu'elle voulait être reconnue. Elle voulait qu'on l'admire aux côtés des personnes qu'elle aimait, aux côtés de celles qui lui avaient fait découvrir qu'on pouvait s'amuser avec la musique.Chuchu avait pensé que faire demi-tour était impossible, elle avait cru qu'elle avait brisé tout espoir de retour. Encore une fois, elle s'était trompée. Cyan et Retoree l'avaient accueillie à bras ouverts, allant même jusqu'à s'excuser alors qu'elle était celle en tort, alors que Moa, de son côté, avait refusé de la lâcher pendant des jours. Elle avait eu si peur, elle avait pensé ne jamais la revoir.Chuchu s'en était voulue en voyant les larmes de Moa. Elle leur avait fait tellement de mal, mais aujourd'hui encore, ses amies l'acceptaient.Et pour ça, se dit-elle en regardant tendrement Moa qui dormait à côté d'elle, je vous en serai éternellement reconnaissante.Elle embrassa le coin de ses lèvres, remontant la couverture sur elles et passa un bras autour de sa taille.Elle ne referait plus jamais l'erreur de quitter ces personnes si chères à son cœur.
|
10010948
|
Change
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Randall Graves, Elias (Clerks II)",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by MrRowboat",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "304",
"Additional Tags": "more of a like, confession thing, also swearing bc randal is randal",
"Relationship": "Elias (Clerks II)/Randall Graves",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Clerks. (1994), Clerks II (2006), Askewniverse",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
"Do you ever think about the fact that your life can make a huge turn, and you don't know if it's for better or for worse?" Elias looked at Randal, startled by his voice. It had been silent for a while, which was odd because the store was usually never quiet.
"What do you mean, Randal?"
"You know what I fuckin' mean, I literally just said it." Randal sighed "Anyways..dipshit I mean like a huge change, and you don't know if it's gonna fuck up your life or make it better."
Elias smiled at Randal, that meant he already had an answer. Randal already guessed what bible-shit it was gonna be.
"Well Randal, I think God already has a plan for us, so I think whatever change comes my way, it's for the best."
"Of fucking course you do." Randal groaned, sliding his hands down his face.
"Is something bothering you?" Elias questioned, looking at the older man's aggrevated expression.
"Like it's any of your fucking business, Elias." Randal growled.
Elias felt a little worried, he had never seen Randal in this state before. He'd seen him annoyed, sure. But not like this.
For a while after the short conversation Randal just sat there in dead silence, almost as if he was thinking hard on something. Sometimes he'd mumble something to himself, though it was incoherent. Elias was holding himself back, trying not to ask anymore question, there was a risk of being shouted at, plus, whatever it was, Randal did NOT want to talk about it.
But, Elias really could not hold himself back.
"Randal, seriously are you alright?"
Elias waited to be yelled at, or even hit.
"Want me to give you a long story short, Elias?"
Elias nodded, Randal turned and looked at him.
"I think I fucking love you."
|
10024406
|
La Jetais
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Major Character Death",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Martin \"Marty\" Hart, Rustin \"Rust\" Cohle",
"Fandom": "True Detective",
"Language": "中文-普通话 國語",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by Silhouette_Jo",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "4,545",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Time Travel",
"Relationship": "Rustin \"Rust\" Cohle/Martin \"Marty\" Hart",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“Sometimes he recaptures a day of happiness, though different. A face of happiness, though different.” —— Film《La jetée》 战争结束后，地面上变得不再适宜居住，幸存下来的人们不得不移居到地下。赢家得到了一切，污水和老鼠组成的地下王国。他们用俘虏做实验，试图探访过去和未来，寻找物资或方法以拯救现在。数次失败后他们发现，那些有着某段强烈并深刻的回忆的人，不容易在时空穿越的过程中迷失或精神错乱。通过对俘虏们梦境的监视，他们看到了一段属于马丁哈特的十多年前的记忆，至今还清晰可见。于是他们将他的双眼蒙住，戴上不知名的仪器，他们说着他听不懂的语言，陌生的手禁锢住他的四肢。恐惧在不断地叠加，耳边的对话时而响亮时而微弱，一阵尖锐的响声刺穿他的耳膜。马蒂绷紧了身体努力试图呼吸，意识像在被一点点抽离，直到世界变成一片纯白，他突然感到一阵轻松。 世界在他的周围崩析再重组。他站在雪地里，天色已晚，交错的树枝将夜空切割成无数碎片。马蒂低头看了看自己的身体，还是在地窖里那套单薄的旧衣服。寒气贴着皮肤游走。他明白自己被交予的任务，但一切看起来如此希望渺茫，无论任务成功与否，作为囚犯的他都不会有什么好结果。他早已一无所有。背后一丝声响引起了他的注意，他转头看到一个男孩站在那，手里拎着一只死兔子。“你是谁？”男孩先于他开了口，谨慎地问道。“我…”马蒂张了张嘴，一下子不知该怎么跟这看上去老成得要命的孩子解释，“我叫马蒂，我想我可能迷路了…”男孩眯着眼盯着他看了一会，“最近的村庄离这儿一个半小时车程。”“呃，”马蒂双手往裤子两边口袋里摸了下，他们显然忘记给俘虏路费了。“看来我现在是回不去啦，”马蒂挂上他最和蔼可亲的笑容，蹲下身以便和男孩高度平齐，“你看，你能不能让我在你家借住一晚上呢？我明天一早就走，或者我还可以帮忙干点活…对了，你叫什么名字？”男孩似乎有点被他的热情吓到了，不自觉地往后退了半步。从身高看来他顶多只有七岁，褐色的偏长的卷发有些时间没打理了，软软地垂在额前。他的犹豫全都写在了脸上。“我不确定我爸会不会答应，他不喜欢陌生人来家里。”“唔，别担心，我会跟他解释的，反正我今晚也没其它事可做了对吧？”马蒂突然觉得男孩的面孔有些眼熟。一阵沉默后男孩看似妥协了，他转身示意马蒂跟上。“谢了小子。”男孩点点头继续走。“嘿，你还没告诉我你的名字呢。”“…名字是拉斯特。”身后的脚步声突然消失。拉斯特停下来转头查看，然而身后除了雪地里的一串脚印外空无他物。 马蒂被猛地拉回到自己沉重的身体里，他像是刚浮出水面的溺水者般用力吸着气，他想要起身，但那些陌生的手又将他按回原处。眼前一片漆黑，鼻腔里全是地窖里的臭味，而他几乎还能看到男孩月光下清澈的双眼，听到男孩吐字清晰的那句“拉斯特”。马蒂奋力挣扎着，无法抑制回忆海水般涌现，铺天盖地将他淹没。辅助性的药物顺着针管被推进他的手臂，他感到自己的意识开始远离。 视线重新清晰起来。眼前是一座教堂，温暖潮湿的空气告诉马蒂他已经离开了北方。教堂门后传来的婚礼进行曲牵引着马蒂走上台阶。他不由自主地回忆他和玛姬将婚戒套上对方手指的那一天，那种纯粹的快乐，显得那么遥远。他突然有点害怕门后等着他的东西。沉重的木门在他眼前打开。他认出了彩窗下穿着一身白西装的那个男人，站在男人身边的一定就是克莱尔了。马蒂站在门侧的角落，尽量把自己藏在阴影里，他一身肮脏发臭的囚服跟周围的一切格格不入。牧师念完致辞，拉斯特的手轻托着克莱尔的腰，他们吻了对方，教堂里为数不多的见证者发出一阵欢呼声。岁月还未在他的搭档脸上留下皱痕，没有毒品的摧残，没有死亡的恐惧，没有面对苦难的麻木。他们看起来准备永远这样走下去。马蒂忽然感到眼睛发涩。他转身准备离开，木门转动发出的声音引起了注意。门合上的前一刻，拉斯特对上了他的视线。 马蒂慌忙退后几步，不确定拉斯特会不会追上来，也不确定自己是否希望对方追上来。然后他突然意识到，眼前的木门已不再是刚才那扇，教堂的模样也截然不同。他环顾四周，天色已经暗了下来，嫣红的晚霞勾勒出建筑的剪影。右侧是一条河，对面的堤岸上装饰着彩灯，几个年轻人围坐着喝酒，不时传来一阵无所顾忌的大笑。突然后背被人狠狠撞了一下，他回头，那个熟悉的名字不经思考地脱口而出。“拉斯特？”男人试图站稳脚，但显然力不从心，他含糊地嘀咕了一句抱歉，让马蒂差点笑出声。已记不得是哪年哪月的那个傍晚，拉斯特也是这样醉醺醺地出现在马蒂家门口，红着眼眶，紧拽着不知哪弄来的花束，眼神里是说不出口的道歉。好在当时的拉斯特醉得还没那么厉害，眼前这个拉斯特，几乎已经把一半的体重挂到了马蒂身上。他动作迟缓地抬头看看马蒂，“你认识我？”没等马蒂开口，他又接着说，“那不是我的名…”句子被截断，马蒂没来得抽身，拉斯特吐在了他身上。操。操蛋的拉斯特。马蒂仰起头，忍住把对方扔在地上的冲动，然后咒骂着将这个醉鬼半搀扶半拖拽地带到一把空着的长椅前，坐下，勉强摆弄成一个侧躺的姿势，完了才发现拉斯特已经睡着了。马蒂不是没见过拉斯特落魄的样子，但落魄到这种程度的拉斯特，他还是第一次见。看起来隔壁长椅上躺着的流浪汉都比这个拉斯特过得要好一些，至少人家还有个包裹，而拉斯特只有手里的空酒瓶。他的衬衫看上去有好些天没洗了，领带歪斜着套在脖子上，头发乱糟糟地支着。从拉斯特的外套内袋里探出什么纸片的一角，好奇心驱使马蒂将它们抽出来查看，然后愣在原地。那是三张机票。分别属于拉斯汀科尔，克莱尔科尔，和索非亚科尔。 酒瓶撞击地面发出的脆响让马蒂猛地回过神。拉斯特刚才手里握着的酒瓶滚落到他脚边，再抬头时他已离开那个广场。地上不远处散落着几个酒瓶和玻璃碎渣，还有烟头和一些空的零食包装。一个拆迁到一半的平房。路灯昏黄的光线斜射进来，在地面上投下窗框的影子。一阵密集的枪声打断马蒂的疑虑，他慌忙躲进墙角的阴影里。断断续续的枪响持续了几分钟，不停有影子在窗框的剪影里晃过，他的心提到了嗓子眼。不远处有人在大声叫喊，他只听清了“该死的条子”和“回去”。脚步声逐渐远去，马蒂又多等了一分钟才从墙后出来。一股扑鼻的血腥味让马蒂有些反胃，他跨过一具面朝下的尸体时，认出了那件皮衣背后的标志。铁军。这个词在记忆里被埋没太久，马蒂愣了几秒后突然想起什么似的，有些犹豫地将脚下的尸体翻过身。不是他。马蒂继续寻找，在检查过三四具尸体后，果不其然，他终于在一截矮墙后面看到了拉斯特。或者应该叫克拉什，姿势怪异地背靠着墙，地上的血迹蜿蜒着画出一道模糊的轨迹，好像他用尽最后一点力气爬到现在所在的位置，就为了以一个较为体面的姿势迎接死神的镰刀。马蒂蹲下身，对方皮衣下的衣料几乎彻底被血浸湿。作为一个经历过未来的人，马蒂按理说不应该紧张。如果拉斯特死在了这里，那马蒂就不会有机会从对方嘴里听到那三处枪伤的来历。马蒂努力忽视自己小幅度颤抖着的手指，将它们贴上拉斯特冰凉的颈侧，终于在摸到一丝脉搏后松了一口气拉斯特的双眼紧闭着，看上去毫无血色。四周一片安静，只听见马蒂一个人粗重的呼吸声。他不该插手过去。但是操他妈的法律。马蒂让拉斯特靠在自己肩上，手臂穿过对方腋下和腿弯，把这具比看上去还要轻的身体从地上抱起来。这时拉斯特忽然动了一下，抽搐着抓住马蒂的袖子。马蒂叫着拉斯特的名字，说没事了我找到你了，我现在就带你去医院，我们去医院。拉斯特含糊不清地念叨着什么，马蒂将耳朵贴近。“不。”他听到。医院走廊里的灯亮得晃眼，马蒂坐在手术室外的座椅上，盯着自己手心仍未干的血迹。他不知自己在这里还剩多长时间，是否足以等到确认拉斯特平安无事。他虽早已知道答案，却不再确定答案的正确性。如果终究要回到那个地窖，这一切是否都不曾拥有意义。“先生，请问是你送刚才那位伤者…”一个护士走到他身旁，马蒂后知后觉地反应过来。他低着头躲避护士询问的视线，“不是我，”他说着，快速走向出口。护士跟了上来。他推开医院大门，意外地踏上一片柔软的草地。 天色微亮，眼前的房子似曾相识。他站在拉斯特公寓门口的草坪上。右手边是一桶细碎的草尖，泥土和露水的味道。马蒂走向门口，在触碰到门把手前突然停下，这是什么时候？他转身走到窗外。橙黄色的暖光浸透半透明的白色窗帘，卧室里一个人影独自站在那，熟悉的轮廓让马蒂立刻认出来那是拉斯特。他穿着克拉什的皮衣。这应该是他们抓到老姜的那天，跟记忆中不同，此刻的拉斯特显得疲倦不堪。他在看着什么。马蒂顺着他的视线望去，看到了还在熟睡的自己。噢，你这混蛋，居然偷看我睡觉。马蒂有点想笑，可他笑不出来。拉斯特的神色像是在做什么沉默的告别，该死的符合他的作风。他把玩着手里一串钥匙，应该是刚配好的备用钥匙，在出门前交到了马蒂手上。拉斯特终于缓慢地走上前，踢了踢床上那个马蒂的小腿。被叫醒的人不耐烦地嘀咕了些什么，把脸埋进枕头里。拉斯特又慢悠悠地挪到客厅里。几分钟后屋里飘出咖啡的香味。有那么短暂的一瞬间，巨大的悲伤覆盖了他所有的情绪。使得马蒂被选中成为实验对象的那段记忆，他从来都不愿回想，甚至刻意试图遗忘，但他的潜意识不肯放手。过去的气味，过去的决定，过去的人。他游走在时间和空间的断层中。有时他找回一个幸福的画面，但有所不同，一张熟悉的面孔，却不止于此。*他早已不属于任何地方，此刻唯一属于他的东西便是他的记忆。 马蒂重新感受到的第一样事物便是烟味。熟悉的，可恨的，甚至令人怀念的，弥漫整个屋子的的烟味。他在拉斯特的公寓里，躺在一地混乱的报纸上。他努力理清思绪。四周出奇地安静，没有警方频道的吵杂广播声，没有书页翻动的声音，甚至没有挂钟的滴答声。只有一片死静，和一个人来不及带走的生活痕迹。马蒂找到报纸覆盖下的黑色笔记本。他知道这是哪了。笔记本里最新的日期，是拉斯特辞职的那一天，也是他最后一次见到拉斯特的那一天。潦草的字迹混合着速写，每一页的笔划都在下一页留下刻痕。“我只是回来拿我的资料。”马蒂想起那天拉斯特在停车场说的话。他想起拉斯特抹掉眼角血迹的动作，想起拉斯特彻底离开他视线范围前的那个眼神，那里没有恨，也没有留念。他想起那不久后接到陌生人的电话。他们说有人匿名报警，说在某个郊外的废弃房子里发现了几具面目全非的尸体，其中一具属于拉斯特。他记得自己平静地在便签条上记下地址，挂掉电话，开车去了停尸房，却在看到白得晃眼的裹尸布时临阵退缩。“不用了，”他告诉守门人，“别掀开。” 马蒂在地下室里醒来。周围有人在交谈，语气里似乎透露着骄傲和自豪。他们摘下他的眼罩。一个穿着得体的男人俯身仔细打量着他，半饷，他重新直起身，对旁边另一个人下达了什么命令。“初步实验成功了，”其中一人用不熟练的英语对他解释道，“接下来你将会被传去未来，找到资源和方法帮助我们脱离困境。”没有谈判的空间，马蒂被重新戴上眼罩。他去到了未来，那些人在一间看不到出口的房间里接待了马蒂，他们的面孔模糊，像戴了面具一般变换不定。马蒂提出了他的请求，很快被回绝。但马蒂没有就此放弃，“你们帮助的是曾经的自己，”他说，“没有人能逃避自己的过去。”最后的最后他们答应了马蒂，给了他一打写满复杂难懂的方程式的纸张。马蒂回到当下，那些科学家们似乎对他的任务成果感到非常满意，他们把他留在房间里，似乎打算去庆祝一番。马蒂清楚地知道，一旦失去利用价值，自己所剩的时间也就不长了。他们在庆祝结束后估计就会处决他，一声枪响，干净利落，以宣告这荒诞年代的结束。马蒂将剩余的药剂推进血管，重新戴上眼罩。他们多半会追上来，而他不在乎。在不远的未来等待着他的只有死神，但是也许，也许他能在过去找到另一种未来。 “别掀开。”马蒂站在停尸房门外，听见较为年轻的自己说道。他躲进走廊一侧的某个死角，等待着，直到十多年前的自己和那个守门人一起离开。马蒂转动冰凉的门把手，手心的温度在金属表面上短暂地留下一层雾面。他找到那个柜子，动作机械地将它抽出来，时间好似被放慢了数倍，白布上的一小块污迹，未被遮盖住的一截灰色指尖。他能听见自己的心跳，撞击着耳膜，却有种错觉，仿佛那心跳属于被白布覆盖着的身体。马蒂需要这个，这个折磨了他十多年的场景就在眼前。记不清多少次梦见过拉斯特，独自站在残破的教堂中央背对着他，在星期天早晨礼拜的人群中一闪而过，或者赤裸着裹在惨白的床单里，他想叫他起床，却得不到任何反应。他需要亲眼看到，自己曾经试图逃避的过去。然而揭开白色面具，马蒂看到的却不是意料中的那张面孔。这不是拉斯特。身后的门转动发出声响，他猛地回过头。子弹撕裂空气。他听见身体撞击地面的声音，看到来自那个地窖的面孔，和金属柜门上自己扭曲的倒影。
|
10049609
|
Broken
|
{
"Archive Warning": null,
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Arthur Weasley, Dobby (Harry Potter), Draco Malfoy, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Rubeus Hagrid, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Molly Weasley, Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, Nymphadora Tonks, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by EmeraldIre [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "4/4",
"completed": "2008-10-22",
"published": "2008-10-17T00:00:00",
"words": "6,330",
"Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Heterosexual Sex, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Angst, Tragedy",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonk, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley",
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": "Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex, Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Categories": "Multi, F/M",
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Please let this be mine… Please let this be mine…. Please let this be mine… did it work? Well according to my bank it didn’t so I suppose it was just wishful thinking. We all know who Harry potter belongs to and we all wish it was us, but it isn’t. Nor do we get any money for this, it’s done because we are obsessed, bored shitless and can’t control our own lives so therefore feel the need to control someone else’s. Have fun and as always review. I’m writing this because I couldn’t find a story with all my ships. I am a uni student who is studying nursing so if I don’t post at least weekly, please be patient it depends on my assignments and what exams I have but I’ll try to warn you about those. And to save you from having to read my “it’s not mine, it’s hers” statement all the time I’ll let this one cover it cos it’s long and been stated twice now and if any one feels the sudden urge to sue me, good luck with that uni student no money so save your breath and your time! If any one recognises any thing chances are its not mine. I’ve read so many Harry Potter fics now that I’ve probably taken something (by accident) I normally read about one fic a week (novel length) and have done so for the last two years, so it’s a lot of stuff I’ve taken in folks. I sincerely apologise if I have taken something of yours, as I won’t have meant to, (unless I credit you).So I’ll sign off now and get on with my story. Oh yeah, one more thing: eKisses for those people who review! The more reviews I have the faster I’ll be compelled to update ALSO: I don’t have a beta. If any one wants to fill that role leave me a note in a review.WARNING:This fic takes place after my puppy (Sirius) dies so it features a torn up Harry who then gets to go back “home” and puts up with what can very loosely be described as his “family”. Harry gets abused (physically, verbally and sexually) and indulges in self-harm as well as a suicide attempt. Folks its dark at the start and I don’t bullshit or beat around the bush. (Yes I’m an Aussie!!) There will also be quite a bit of language. Also every thing is spelt Aussie, like mum rather than mom if you don’t like it, too bad!My Ships are as follows:Harry/GinnyRemus/TonksRon/HermioneThere will be more, however to state them here gives away something farrrrrrr too big. Sorry no bones for the little puppy. Chapter One – PunishmentHarry climbed into his uncle’s car at the train station not feeling any emotion at all. If Harry had to describe what he felt, he would tell you that he felt dead. And that he wished he were dead. Did Dumbledore not understand that he had not moved for a reason when Voldemort tried to kill him? Damn it he had even begged for death, but did Dumbledore pay any attention to his wish, no instead he just gave him extra reason to wish that he had died. Fifteen-year-old (soon to be sixteen thank you very much!) Harry Potter had the world placed firmly on his shoulders.The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies. Stop thinking about that!!“What’s wrong Potty? Cry baby, Cry baby. Did you just realise that no one loves you?” Dudley sneered.Harry wiped his cheeks, removing the tears he had not realised were there. He opened his door even before the car fully stopped grabbed his trunk out of the boot and waited for his Aunt to open the front door of number four privet drive. He immediately went to his room and changed into a pair of grey sweat pants and a loose black jumper. He reached into his trunk and pulled out a piece of broken mirror and pocketed it before walking back out the front door.The grey sky was steadily growing darker; tonight there would be one hell of a storm. It began to gently rain but it soon gave way to a sting your skin, hurt your eyes downpour. Harry sat under a tree and leant his back against the wet bark watching as lightning flickered across the skies, the rain that continued to fall washed away the tears that ran down his face. He took a deep breath and pulled the broken mirror from his pocket. He pushed up the sleeves of his jumper and placed the ragged edge against the pale skin of his wrist and pressed down watching as the rain cleared away the blood. He continued cutting lines up both his arms and pressed deeper with each cut. He stared at his arms, there were about fifteen lines on each arm one for every year of misery he had lived on each arm. He brought the sleeves of his jumper down and pocketed the glass again.He looked at his watch and noticed it was eleven o’clock. Mildly surprised at how late it was he stood up slowly feeling slightly dizzy and stretched his cramped muscles before walking home slowly. He paused halfway home when he began to wonder who was on Potter duty before swearing furiously when he realised that who ever was watching had likely seen that and would report it to the old meddling fool. He shook his head “nothing I can do about it now.” He mumbled out aloud and continued to walk home.Charlie Weasley held Nymphadora Tonks as she sobbed silently. They were under strict orders not to show themselves to Harry for any reason, unless of course Deatheaters showed up. They could do nothing but watch as the young man they both admired turned his emotional pain into something more physical. They could only hope he would come out of this without too much harm.“Should we tell Dumbledore?”“No, I don’t think so Tonks. I don’t think Harry would willingly talk to him any way. Ron told me that there is a lot of tension between Harry and Dumbledore at the moment, we should tell Remus and Bill though when they come on duty next. We’ll have to tell them not to tell Dumbledore and I think it should stay between the four of us.” Charlie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “And I think this is one of Dumbledore’s orders that can go straight down the drain. The last thing Harry needs right now is to be left alone to his thoughts with no company except those bloody relatives of his.”“Charlie? Some of those looked deep enough to cause some damage. He lost enough blood right now that he should be in some serious trouble.”“I know Tonks, I know. It looks like his magic is preventing him from causing too much harm to himself. I think its only doing so because he only wants to feel the pain rather than kill himself. Madam Pomfrey has said before that he heals amazingly fast, has an extremely high threshold for pain and has never been to the hospital wing sick. So maybe he is more powerful than we think.”“I hope so. I really do, for his sake.”Harry quietly opened the front door and snuck through hoping that his relatives were all in bed. He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a slice of bread from the packet.“No one told you that you could take that you little thief. Throw it in the bin now!”“Yes Uncle Vernon.” Harry sighed and tossed it in the bin. A second later a meaty fist connected with his face and Harry found himself unable to move as another wave of dizziness hit him.“That’s for leaving without asking permission.” He snarled and hit Harry again with enough force that it spun him around and knocking him to the ground so that he lay on his stomach “that’s for coming home late.” Harry heard the sound of a zip before he was yanked to his knees and held there too weak and shocked to move though he knew what was surely going to happen. He was proven correct and he cried out when his Uncle entered him roughly and pounded into him with such force that he felt he would split in half from the pain.“And…this…is…for…ruining…our lives…you…FREAK!” Harry felt his Uncle explode into him before withdrawing just as roughly and snarled, “Get to your room and stay there until I tell you, you can come out”Not having the strength to stand Harry pulled up his pants and said, “Yes Uncle Vernon.” Before crawling up to his room. Once there he lay on the floor too sore to move any more and passed out.A/N: this is a good place to stop I think. I know that Harry is actually fairly strong and would have normally fought to the death to stop his Uncle or at least run, but a) he’s depressed and on some level believes he deserves it for Sirius’ death. B) He just cut himself and it was stated that he lost a lot of blood so he is physically weak. Also I would like to make something clear and will state it later in the story for those who don’t read A/Ns : Tonks&Remus not Tonks&Charlie. Dumbledore knows that they are likely to become more than friends and for safety sake, does not partner up couples.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: Bill takes Harry to Grimmauld Place
Chapter Two – Grimmauld PlaceBill Weasley sat in the garden covered by an invisibility cloak. He continued watching Harry’s window hoping that there would be a sign of habitation from the room after what Tonks and his brother told them this morning when they came on duty, Bill shook his head, he was more worried then ever. It was lunchtime and so far there had been no signs of life coming from Harry’s room. When there was none, he turned to where he knew Remus Lupin was and said quietly “I’m going in. Levitate me through the window.”“Okay, be careful though, if he’s in there he’ll have his wand at you before you feet even hit the ground. Wingardium Leviosa!” Bill gasped as he landed on the floor and rushed over to Harry who still lay in a pile on the floor with blood pooled between his legs and under his wrists, after making sure Harry still had a pulse, he ran over to the window“Remus, get up here now!” he called out.He ran back over to Harry and gently shook his shoulders “Harry, mate can you hear me?” he shook firmer when he got no response and pulled out his wand, “Evenerate!” he cried just as Remus threw the door open he let out a sob as he saw Harry dazedly opening his eyes.“Bill? What are you doing here?”“Looking after my little brother. Look what those bastards did to you! And what you’ve done to your self. I’m going to get you out of here now. Remus can you get his stuff?” Remus nodded and wiped the tears that rested on his cheeks before waving his wand. The very few items Harry had lying around were soon packed and Hedwig’s cage sat on the trunk.“Harry…were you raped?” Remus asked putting a hand on the young mans trembling shoulder.Harry sobbed and bit his lip hard before turning his face away and nodding.“Who?” when Harry refused to answer Remus asked “Vernon?” Harry nodded.Bill looked Harry over and asked, “Can you walk?” Harry tried to raise himself up on one arm but curled instantly into a ball at the pain that shot through him.“No.” He whimpered which increased when Bill gently picked him up. “Hey Bill?”“Yes Harry?” Bill enquired though he thought he knew what Harry was going to say.“Don’t tell any one. Please Bill, please, promise me?” Bill doubted that Harry had begged to any one before and nodded, feeling completely disconsolate as he looked at the broken teen that he considered to be another brother. “I promise. Harry, I promise. But we need to get madam Pomfrey to check you; you’ve lost a lot of blood. He must have been rough for you to bleed that much, I wouldn’t have thought it possible.”Harry hesitated before mumbling: “Okay, don’t let her tell Dumbledore or any one else!”Remus walked over to Harry’s trunk and pulled out a set of clean clothes. He laid them out as Bill carefully helped Harry get changed out of the damp, muddy and bloody clothing.They wrapped Harry in a blanket and Bill gently picked him up a second time. Remus pulled out a Portkey and quietly told Harry to grip it. They arrived at Grimmauld place in the dining room where everyone was eating lunch. A thud was heard as Charlie jumped out of his chair causing the chair to hit the ground.“Bill!” Harry heard Charlie’s shocked voice and flinched in closer to Bill, “is that…” Bill nodded.“Mr Weasley what part of no contact did you not understand?” Dumbledore asked softly.Bill turned and snarled at his old headmaster “shut up you old fucking idiot!” he glared at the headmaster and ignored the many startled gasps “Make yourself useful and fetch madam Pomfrey, I can’t believe you made him go back to those muggles, un-fucking-believable!” he walked out and was followed by Remus, Tonks and Charlie. Remus stopped at the door and said quietly, “apart from Tonks, Charlie, Bill and I, only madam Pomfrey can come in the room with Harry.” He turned and looked at Dumbledore, eyes flashing amber “he specifically asked for you not to be involved. And I for one am going to honour his wishes. I don’t know what you said to him, but for as long as I live, you won’t go near him without Bill, Charlie, Tonks or myself there with him unless he requests otherwise.” When he finished he ran up the stairs after Harry.He opened the door to Harry’s room to find Harry hanging in to Bill for dear life. Bill was trying to coax him off.“Harry, can you tell us all what happened. From the time we left you to when we found you? I’ve told every one else that only madam Pomfrey and us four can come near you until your ready. They won’t tell any one else but it will make it easier for you if you have all of us to talk to if you want to. Also one of us will always be with you, but we’ll all try to all stay with you. We all fought for you to stay with one of us where we live and we’ll continue to do so. If all else fails, we’ll simply tell Dumbledore to take a hike.” Remus said.“Okay, but guys, this is it. No one else can know. And thanks for fighting for me.” He said so quietly they all had to strain to hear him.“Except for madam Pomfrey.” Bill reminded him gently Harry rolled his eyes tiredly and yawned “sure” his grip on Bill relaxed slightly.“Harry?”“Hmmm?”“Can I put you on the bed? Madam Pomfrey’s here. You need to tell us what happened now.”Harry let go of Bill, surprised that he had felt the need to cling to him like he had. He was lowered onto the bed in a sitting position with lots of pillows behind his back for him to lean on. In a voice devoid of emotion he began. “The ride home was fine, Dudley taunted me as usual but that’s certainly nothing… um are you sure no one else can hear?” he waited for Bill and Charlie to check and secure the room before continuing. “I got there, took my stuff up to my room and went for a walk to the park, there was a storm and I just sat there in the rain then walked-”“Harry, Charlie and I saw you cutting yourself at the park, it looked pretty bad from where we were standing.” Tonks interjected when it became clear he was going to by pass it.Harry nodded “when I got home I took a piece of bread because I had missed dinner while I was out. Uncle Vernon caught me. He- h-he punched me twice, one for not asking if I could leave and the second for coming home so late. The second punch knocked me to the ground and…” Harry stopped and shook his head franticly, whimpering at the memory of it. “He hit me so hard I spun around and landed on my stomach, I couldn’t stop him, and I felt so weak, so powerless. He pulled me onto my knees and…” he stopped again still shaking his head as though trying to deny that it had happened. He began scrabbling at his very tender wrists that began to bleed again. Bill took his hands and held them in his own. “It hurt so much, like I was being torn from the inside out, I feel so dirty, like I’ll never be clean again.” He cried, ashamed that he, the Boy-That-Lived, could be used in such a manor. If his Uncle could do this to him, he dreaded finding out what Voldemort could do to him. He sobbed profound, soul wrenching sobs that conveyed the depth of his pain. Every one had tears on there cheeks as they listened to him cry. Something none of them had ever seen him do. Bill held his hands and stroked his face as madam Pomfrey did a physical examination and healed him. “Harry, this is a dreamless sleep potion drink all of it for me.” Madam Pomfrey handed him the vial and he drank it. “Have you had any thing to eat since you got off the train?” She asked before sleep claimed him and he shook his head and quickly fell into a deep slumber. She turned to the other four occupants of the room. “Nothing that was said in this room is to leave it. Professor Dumbledore is not to be told either. Make sure some one is with him all the time, but keep it to you four, as he obviously trusts you. When he wakes up, get him to try eating some soup. He prefers pumpkin. Give him these potions after he eats something. They’ll finish repairing the internal damage his Uncle caused him.” With that she leaned over and placed a kiss on Harry’s forehead. “Well, I do believe this is a record even for you Harry, I hope the rest of your summer improves.” A/N.:. Read and review. I know I’ve made madam Pomfrey seem like a softy. But you would be too if you saw that. Just wait till next chapter. Also next chapter has major warning for it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: After many years torment, Harry finally breaks.
Chapter Three - BrokenMadam Pomfrey opened the door and almost collided with Albus Dumbledore who had his ear to the door. Behind him stood the rest of the order and Weasley family.“Poppy, what’s happened?”“I can’t tell you that Albus. And before you interrupt me, I will not tell you what happened. But I will tell you this: if you ever send that boy to those muggles again, you’ll have me to deal with. He’s had enough to deal with without those pigs!” she said hissed with more unshed tears in her eyes. “Just a warning to you. In that room, there are four very angry people in there who look ready for a lynching; you’re their lynchee. When they told you to leave him alone, I do believe they were deadly serious. Good day to you.” She huffed and marched down the stairs ignoring the stunned looks and questions sent at her.**Harry groaned as he woke and sat up stretching the muscles that were cramped from laying in the same position for the last six hours. “Harry?” Bill asked, “how are you feeling?” he had not left Harry’s side since he had fallen asleep, quite determined to be there when Harry woke up. “Like shit!” he exclaimed “and Bill, thank you for today. Get some shut eye, you didn’t have to stay with me this whole time, but thanks.”Bill chuckled, “Harry, you’re my little brother, I’d do anything for you, same as for Ginny, Ron, Charlie and the twins. I’ve got some pumpkin soup for you.”“I’m not hungry” Harry mumbled even as has stomach loudly announced other wise. “Alright but you need to have a few mouthfuls at least. Poppy said you have to take these potions with some food and thought you might like pumpkin soup the best.”Harry obliged him by eating two spoons willingly and two more with some coercion before feeling incredibly sick. Bill handed him the smallest vial first and to Harry’s relief it was an anti-nausea potion. He quickly downed the three other potions left for him and settled down again as he was pulled into the depths of a dreamless sleep.When he woke next he kept his eyes shut feeling an incredible sense of calm and safety and snuggled further into the blankets. “Wotcher Harry, just how long do you plan on faking sleep?” Harry sat up quickly at the voice and had his wand pointed at Tonks before the memories of the past few days came crashing into him. Tonks had her hands in the air and looked quite pale. She looked in Harry’s cold eyes that seemed to turn almost a grey/ green before they darkened with pain. Behind him Charlie was chuckling.“You’re more paranoid than Mad-Eye Moody.” He laughed outright. Harry felt more claustrophobic than he had ever felt in his life. He scrambled up to the end of the bed with his legs pulled up to his chest in a gesture of protection. He couldn’t breath, he scratched at his wrists with hands that were shaking so badly he wouldn’t have been able to hold a glass of water without spilling its contents entirely.Charlie got up slowly, ensuring he made no sudden movement and walked out of the room, as soon as he closed the door, he ran down to the kitchen.“Bill!” he gasped as soon as he saw his older brother completely ignoring the rest of the order gathered there. “Har-” Bill was out the door and running up the stairs before Charlie had even finished the name. When he opened Harry’s bedroom it was to see a shocked Tonks looking at Harry who was rocking backwards and forwards with his wand grasped in one violently shaking hand and his other gouging at his wrist that was now bleeding profusely. He looked back at Tonks.“Go get madam Pomfrey! Run!”“Harry? It’s Bill, can you hear me kiddo? Your safe, I took you away from them, remember? It’s okay now. Just breathe. Shhh, I wont let them hurt you again.”He looked up at the door when he heard sniffing from that direction in the doorway was Ginny, who had tears on her face, behind her Remus, Charlie, Albus and the rest of the Weasley clan, including Arthur who had just been about to leave for work. Ginny walked slowly over to Harry ignoring the hand Charlie had placed on her shoulder to stop her. When she reached him, she pulled out her wand and gently held his wrist. She cleaned away the blood and muttered “episky” repeatedly and slowly the wounds closed. Bill stared at his younger sister stunned at the calming effect she had on Harry. While Harry had calmed somewhat while Bill was speaking to him, the moment Ginny had touched him he had stopped panicking completely. When she had finished healing him and he was laying back, she waved her wand at the chair and it zoomed neatly behind her. She sat down and kept his hand in hers. She gently ran her other hand through his hair.“I swore I wouldn’t come here again. Get me out of here. Gin, I won’t stay here!” he pleaded with her in a weak voice. At this point madam Pomfrey rushed though the door. “What is the meaning of this?” she snapped at the still crowded doorway “Harry, can I see your arms?” Ginny lifted them up for her to inspect. “Did you heal this miss Weasley?” when Ginny nodded and told her the spell used, she complimented her, “excellent job, although episky wouldn’t have been something that I would have used.” She looked Ginny up and down appraisingly and said, “Have you ever thought of being a healer? To get these results with such a mild healing spell means you have exceptionally strong healing magic.” Ginny blushed, “yes madam Pomfrey that what it’s what I was hoping to do when I finish school.”“Well miss Weasley, I have taken students on as apprentice healers before and if you, the headmaster and your parents agree, I would like to take you on at Hogwarts. You show amazing potential.”“I’d like that. Thank you.” They both looked at the doorway, all three adults concerned nodded their consent.Madam Pomfrey pulled out a pouch filled with potion vials and handed it to her. “These are all labelled. Give him three at first and then two blood-replenishing potions every hour for three hours and one strengthening potion with them. If he needs it give him a calming potion, but make sure he has one before he goes to sleep. There are also nutrition potions in there, give him one with every meal, no matter how little he eats. If he feels nauseated, this small purple vial will help. Floo me if there are any more difficulties. Any questions?”Ginny looked through the vials and came upon three dreamless sleep potions. She held one up. “You didn’t mention these. Can he have one?”“Not tonight, but he may have one tomorrow if he wishes. But not for two nights straight. Good day miss Weasley.” She looked pointedly at Dumbledore and said, “Let me know if anyone hassles him.” She walked out.Ginny pointed at the door. “Out! You heard her.” She waited as every one except Bill left. She then turned to Harry who had fallen asleep and ran her hand through his hair to wake him. “Harry, you have to take this potion.” She handed him the first vial and he frowned when he saw three others. “Joy.” He mumbled rolling his eyes.He drank them all down and then got out of bed.“What do you think you’re doing?” Bill and Ginny asked simultaneously.“Going for a shower, a very long, hot shower. I stink.” He walked over to the bathroom attached to his room and pushed the door open. He turned on the shower and sat down under water that was as hot as he could make it. He left the shower running and quietly opened the draws, in the bottom one he found an old fashioned shaving blade and went and sat in the shower again. He dragged it across his wrists pressing deep. Blood poured out of his wrists at an alarming rate and little black dots began to float across his vision. A/N: told ya so. Ok this is the last of the dark chapters. His summer picks up from here. Sort of. Maybe, haven’t decided yet. Smiles innocently.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: Harry is found.
Chapter four – Discovery and Reasons“Harry?” Ginny called through the door and when he didn’t answer Bill opened the door a fraction.“Harry? It’s Bill.” No replyBill walked in and nearly passed out at the sight before him. “Ginny!” he shouted panicked. “Harry?” he picked Harry up and ran out of the bathroom carrying him. He placed him on the bed and both he and Ginny began episky-ing him. The moment she had finished her wrist, she bandaged it tightly then took over Bills and instructed him to give Harry a blood replenishing potion and a dreamless sleep potion. “I’m going to Floo madam Pomfrey and see what else I have to do.” She said and walked out. Bill nodded at her back and sat down still in shock from how he had found Harry. ** Ginny walked down the stairs and into the living room.“Gin!” “Ginny?”“GINNY?” George shouted and shook her shoulders hard.“Hmmm? Oh? Fred what’s wrong?” the twins looked at each other shocked, never before had she mixed up their names.“Um… Ginny, I’m George, not Fred. Are you okay?”Ron spoke up, “Ginny, what’s wrong with Harry? What’d he do now?”Ginny ignored him and muttered “madam Pomfrey. Floo.”“Gin? I’m his best mate! He’s my brother tell me what’s wrong. Please”Ginny looked up and noticed that no one had left yet. Her knees gave out and the twins grabbed her lowering her to the floor slowly. She was twisting her hands and looked down at them. Tears pouring down her face. She looked up with haunted eyes and began rocking as she said, “He said he was going for a shower. He was so long and when I called him he didn’t answer. Bill found him. Ron, he…he…Ron, he tried to kill himself.” Remus, Tonks and Charlie sprinted out of the room. Molly broke down completely and was being held by her husband who had tears on his cheeks. Albus Dumbledore sank to the sofa and covered his face with his hands. Ron sat down hard and burst into tears, Fred and George bowed their heads. The only one who wasn’t crying was Severus Snape who had turned exceptionally pale.**Tonks, Remus, Bill and Charlie sat at Harry’s bedside waiting for him to wake from the induced sleep Bill had not spoken until Tonks walked over to the potions pouch and pulled a calming draught which she placed at his lips for him to drink. Charlie spoke up first.“He can’t stay here.”Tonks sat down next to Remus who said, “I think I have the solution. Potter Manor, he’s not set to inherit it until he turns seventeen, not just by our laws but family decree, however he is the head of the Potter family and there is nothing that say’s he cant stay there. It’s so heavily protected I thinks it’s safer than Gringotts and Hogwarts combined. Potter manor is so old it dates back to before Hogwarts, from what James has said, it uses old blood magic. The grounds are able to detect any one that means any harm to the occupants of Potter manor. It will protect him. It is also under something similar to the fidelious, I know where it is because I’ve lived there before. I wont be able to enter it without Harry, but when he gets there, he will know the location instantly and be able to tell us all that we have permission to enter. The amazing thing about that is he’ll have to either give you permanent permission or he can let you in the front door every time you come. I don’t know how many time I’ve searched for those wards, but I’d be stuffed if I could find them.” They sat looking at each other before and before any one could say any thing, Ginny opened the door.“I think it’s a good idea. I’m in. madam Pomfrey also suggested getting him out of here. Though if what you say is true, we have to wait for Harry to be well enough to travel.”“Ginny, what makes you think we’d let you come, no offence Sprite, but Harry doesn’t need someone who’s going to nag him. He needs peace and quiet to move on from all of this.”“Charlie, Harry is going to need someone who knows some of what he’s dealing with.”“And that someone’s you?” he asked sceptically.“Well, unless you know any one else who has bee possessed by him, then yes, I mean me!” Bill could see that shortly his siblings were going to start an all for nothing war against each other and decided that something needed to be done quickly to prevent it.“Oi! Charlie, Ginny’s right. As bloody usual.” He smirked and quickly dodged the punch Ginny threw at him. “She’ll be able to help calm him. Besides that we” he pointed to Tonks, Remus, Charlie and then stabbed his own chest with a finger “can’t be there all the time, Ginny will be able to. However, we’re counting on the fact that Dumbledore will let him leave. He’s not likely to without a fight.”Ginny snorted “if it’s a fight he wants I’ll gladly bloody give it to him.” She looked up at Harry who was starting to stir. “Harry James Potter! If you ever do something so incredibly stupid like that again, it won’t be Voldemort you fear!”Harry mumbled loud enough for them to hear “I take it I’m in hell then. And I don’t fear Voldemort anyway.”Bill looked at him sadly and Remus asked, “why?”Harry understood the question immediately. He pushed himself into a sitting position and said while looking at his bandaged wrists “because I deserve it.”Tonks looked shocked “why do you say that Harry? I’d say you’re the last person who would deserve that!”“Every one around me dies. Dad, Mum, Cedric, Sirius. If they don’t die they get hurt Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Mr Weasley, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley. A Dementor, for merlins sake almost kissed Dudley.”Ginny jumped up off the chair and grabbed his chin forcing his face towards hers. His eyes however looked down avoiding her glare. “Repeat after me Potter, ‘I am not responsible for the actions of those around me!’”Harry’s haunted eyes met hers and he dutifully recited, “I am not responsible for the actions of those around me.” He then added in barely a whisper “I am however responsible for their deaths and therefore the world is a better place without me in it.” Ginny released his chin as if she was burnt.“Surely you don’t believe that Harry?”He glared at her defiantly before spitting “the only memory I have of my father is him yelling at my mother to take me and run. The only memory of my mother is her dropping me in my cradle and begging with Voldemort to spare my life while he just stood there and laughed before killing her. Cedric told me to take the cup, but I had to be a stupid Gryffindor and suggest we both take it; he was killed because he was ‘the spare’. Sirius came to save me because I was so completely…so unbelievably…SO UNFORGIVABLY STUPID TO BELIEVE VOLDEMORT.” Tonks stood up “Harry, Sirius died because he was being a wanker! If you want to boast do so after you win not during a duel. He knew that rule; all Aurors are taught that, given that he and your father were two of the best Aurors of their time, he should have known better. He ignored that rule! It is the main thing we are taught when we are training. He knew it and he ignored it. That is the reason he died Harry, it was not your fault but his. You do his memory a disservice by suggesting he died for nothing. He died for a cause he believed in. He died fighting, how he wanted to.” She paused and added quietly, “He once told me that if he died, he wanted it to be during battle hopefully protecting you. He did.”“Harry you told Ginny you wanted to leave here is that still true?” Bill asked changing the subject.“Please. I don’t want to be here any more. I just thought that Dumbledore would make me stay.”Remus spoke up, “He doesn’t get a say. He’ll be told that you’re leaving and if he agrees then good, if not you’ll still be going.” “Where am I going?”“We’re going to Potter Manor.”Harry spat out the mouthful of water that he was just about to swallow and went into a coughing fit spraying more water out of his nose. “What? Where? How? I thought that was destroyed when…”Tonks picked herself up off the floor while Charlie and Bill were wiping tears of laughter from their cheeks. Remus was sitting on the floor holding his sides while continuing to laugh. Harry chuckled, “Tonks you’re hopeless.”“I place all blame on the chair.” She sniffed and waved her wand drying her wet robes and hair.“Sure ya do Tonks! The chair just jumped in your way?” Ginny smirked. “Couldn’t have been fire hose there could it?” she giggled pointing at Harry.“It’s not my fault she got in the way!” he said trying (and failing) not to laugh.“It’s at Godric’s Hollow but it’s not the cottage. You’ll see when we get there but the manor is set quite a bit back, in fact even if the wards that hide it weren’t there, you’d still have trouble finding it unless you knew where to look.”
|
10065158
|
Uncompromising Corsetry
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by fbowden [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2008-05-28T00:00:00",
"words": "1,445",
"Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Slash sex, Sexual Content, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance",
"Relationship": "Severus Snape/Other(s)",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Severus slammed the heavy oak door behind him and muttered the strongest Silencing spell he could think of; the Potions conference had not gone well, and combined with the godforsaken state Al had left the living room in again, Severus planned to let rip and test the soundproofing charm to its limit.“Potter!” he bellowed, cursing the boy and throwing his winter coat across the back of the sofa. Severus waited for the usual mumbled apology from the kitchen, but only the clanking of the water pipes answered. His temper building to a spectacular crescendo, Severus stalked through the quarters in search of his young lover.“I know what you’re going to say,” Al mused, “but I got carried away and now I can’t get the damn thing off.”Severus stood in the doorway to their bedroom, throat parched dry as he watched Al pose in front of the mirror.The boy turned to admire one side and then the other, completing a half turn and peering over his shoulder, arching his back to observe the elasticity of the encasing fabric. Seemingly satisfied, he rested his hands on his hips and turned to face Severus.“Well? Are you going to help me out of this so I can get on with the tidying?”Severus sneered at him and swept forward, almost ruffling Al’s hair with the hurricane of his advance.“You mean to say you did not plan for me to discover you so dressed?” he growled, spinning Al round by the shoulders to face the mirror.Al steadied himself on the gilt edged frame and took as deep a breath as the corset allowed.“No, actually. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, I was just trying it on. The tightening charms worked a bit too well and I couldn’t counteract them. You’re lucky you didn’t find me passed out on the floor.”Severus silently counted himself very lucky indeed; it wasn’t every day a man came home to find his delectable adolescent lover shoehorned into a green silk corset, the fabric beautifully taut across the fine muscle of his chest. Slowly running a hand over the flawless material, Severus mapped the indent of tapered waist and slipped his fingers beneath the hem.“Gods, Al,” he groaned hoarsely, unable to stop stroking the rigid boning woven into the fabric. The luxurious silk slid beneath his palm as he traced a finger down the solid row of eyelets holding the front together.“If you don’t like it, I can take it back,” Al said evenly, and Severus had to restrain himself from snarling at the stupidity of the comment. Moving closer, he seized Al’s constricted hips and trapped his erection between their bodies. “Oh,” Al breathed, reaching back with one hand and sliding it around Severus’ neck, guiding him forward until their cheeks aligned. “You do like it. Did you know it has seven metres of steel boning?”“I know how it feels,” Severus whispered, eliciting a chuckle.“Seven inches is more than enough for – ow!”Severus gave Al’s earlobe a vicious nibble before soothing it with his tongue. “You were saying?” he drawled, raising an eyebrow at Al’s reflection, face an indignant mask of mock outrage.“Three meters of – oh – raw silk.” Severus dropped his hand down to cup Al’s balls, warm and heavy and barely contained by the matching camisole knickers. Al’s head fell back onto his shoulder, face turned up to capture the thin lips already moving to meet him halfway.“Look,” Severus urged, nose nudging Al’s cheek back towards the mirror, “look at the picture you make.”Severus watched Al become mesmerized by the outline of his hand as it disappeared inside the knickers, fingers wrapping around the swollen shaft. A smear of precome darkened the fabric as he guided Al’s cock out from beneath the flimsy material, both men’s breath catching at the sight.“Obscenely beautiful,” Severus murmured, feeling each ridge slide through his fist, his own cock straining for freedom, desperate to plunge into the hot, slick channel waiting between Al’s perfectly rounded buttocks.“Fuck,” Al whined, “Want you in me.”He released his grip on Severus’ neck and positioned his hands behind his back, fingers locating and unzipping the trouser fly. Severus hissed as they fell around his ankles, freeing his aching prick. Al grasped the feverish length and rubbed the head down the valley of his cleft, only the pathetic scrap of silk standing between Severus and his nirvana. “Should I – the corset – do you need me to loosen it?” Severus grunted, speeding his strokes and swiping a thumb across the leaking slit, unable to look away from the sublime beauty of Al in pearlescent green silk reflected in the mirror, the perfect complement to the sparkling depths of his eyes. Al bit his lip and spread his legs further, pulling the knickers aside with a gentle tug.“The corset is fine,” he said breathlessly, hips rolling backwards in invitation.“Good,” Severus growled, “then brace your hands either side of the mirror.” Al obeyed quickly and Severus let go of his cock, grasping his own in one shaky hand, the other accidentally ripping the delicate material in his overwhelming haste to claim the tight furnace it hid.Severus glanced up to see Al’s reflection smirking at him, sharp green eyes tracing the beads of sweat that were abseiling down his temples.“Little horror,” he scolded, landing a gentle slap to the firm globes of flesh, massaging them apart and slipping between them.“Mmm,” Al agreed, eyes drifting closed when the whispered lubrication charm tingled inside his passage. Severus stroked the lube along his cock and pressed the purpling head to Al’s opening.“I shall endeavour not to rip your bodice, too,” he smirked, noticing the tattered pair of knickers pooled around one slim ankle.“It’s not a bodice, it’s a corset,” Al chided, making tiny rocking motions with his hips, the action just begging Severus to push through the taut ring of muscle. Curling his fingers underneath the boned hem, he slid determinedly all the way inside.“Oh yes,” Al hissed, renewing his brace position, “Gods, yes, fuck me harder.”Severus caught Al’s freely bobbing cock in his other hand and began pumping it furiously, slamming his hips to meet Al’s backward drive. Severus watched as his lover chewed his bottom lip, streamlined biceps flexing with the strain of supporting himself and buffering each rough thrust as Severus filled him completely. The fat vein running the length of the underside thickened with excited blood, the smooth skin pulsing in his hand. Al let out a long, low moan and jerked forward, saturating Severus’ fingers with warm semen. Watching every facial twitch, seeing Al’s release in the mercurial glass and feeling the muscles clamping around him, Severus drove himself as deep as the spasming channel allowed and clung to the boy's hourglass waist, wave after wave of violent orgasm coursing through his rock hard shaft, spiralling into oblivion with great long shudders. Severus caught Al by the intricately laced-up back as they pitched forward together, narrowly avoiding a collision with the mirror. Cursing loudly, he kicked his trousers away and carried Al’s limp body to the bed, seizing the innocent-looking ribbons and wrenching them apart, flooded with relief when Al coughed and sucked in a lungful of air.“The corset was too tight,” he wheezed, frowning when Severus slapped him between the shoulder blades harder than was strictly necessary.“You think so, do you?” Severus snapped, “repeat after me, ‘I am an idiot child.’Al grinned, waving off the not so helpful hand and adopting a leer, “I thought you liked things tight.”“I prefer you alive,” Severus growled, knocking Al down when he tried to sit up. Long, shaky fingers flew to the snug-fitting corset and began to unclasp the row of hooks.“Well that’s good, because I plan to remain so for quite some time. Wouldn’t do my image any good to be remembered as the Boy Who Expired from Uncompromising Corsetry.”Severus snorted and shook his head. “I’m afraid the title of Boy Who Lived has already been trademarked, even if it is remarkably ironic these days. Regardless of your epithet, next time you are taken with the notion of surprising me with potentially dangerous items of erotic clothing...restrain yourself. I shall be just as content to offer you assistance with the adding of garments, as well as the deduction of them.”“If you insist,” Al murmured against the mild brush of lips.Severus kissed him more firmly and stroked the sweat-matted hair away from his forehead. “I most certainly do.”***
|
10055930
|
Amnesia Of A Spider
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes",
"Fandom": "Overwatch (Video Game)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by orphan_account",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00",
"words": "900",
"Additional Tags": "Post-Talon Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, I mean she's still technically in Talon, She ain't quite Amélie ain't quite Widow, Just really confused, Monster Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Boy got too many eyes, Edgy Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, I'm tagging it as that simply because I find it amusing that it's a real tag, I promise this isn't shippy, I just want them to be platonic held-hostage-by-Talon bros",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
The first time the woman that was not quite Amélie Lacroix met the man that was not quite Gabriel Reyes, she was cold. So cold, so cold. The air seemed to beat at her skin, angering it after being submerged in liquid for so long. They were saying things to her, the men walking alongside her, leading her down the fluorescently lit hallway. She focused on one of the bulbs overhead. When was the last time she’d seen light? Honest to god sunlight? She tried desperately to recall, but like every other time she tried to remember anything, she drew a blank. She tried to tune in to what the guards were saying through the incessant buzzing that seemed to fill her head. ‘…You’ll be working with him….. Recon first…… Test skill….. No time for more training…’. She knew what the words meant, could piece their definitions together, but couldn’t make them form a clear imagine in her mind. She knew this was due to her foggy mind, but felt the language was foreign to her, too. She knew that. She didn’t want to question how. That would only lead to more questions she couldn’t answer herself.When they reached the door at the end of the hallway one of the guards stepped forward and unlock it. When he opened it she felt a third person behind her push her forward. She stepped into the room. A man was lying in a chair, head slumped forward, wearing a hospital gown. She vaguely recalled wearing one previously, before the gap in her memory surrounding the liquid, but she was now wearing a long, white, starched dressing gown, and was thankful for the slight extra covering. The buzz in her head had faded slightly and she looked to the woman who was standing next to the man in the chair, seeming addressing them both. ‘…Reaper. Reaper, this is Widowmaker,’ The woman’s voice was cold and steely, spitting out the name she’d been given. Widowmaker. It couldn’t be her real name. Aside from the fact no one in their right mind would name their child that, she just knew it wasn’t. Again, she didn’t dwell too much on that train of thought. ‘You will be working together on a reconnaissance mission. We need to test you out, make sure you’re capable of working in the field, and with each other. That will be essential. We have no further time for formal training. Do you comply?’ ‘Yes, Ma’am,’ Widow murmured, the response she had been told she was always to address with. The steely-voiced woman looked towards the man in the chair. ‘Do you comply, agent?’ she repeated, her voice someone becoming even sharper, more forceful. The man nodded. ‘Good. You will be prepped shortly for departure. And come on now. Show some respect. Chin up, Gabriel,’ the woman said. The man looked up.If anyone had seen that face they might have reacted the same. Scar tissue snaked down the man’s face, lightening the dark skin along his oddly misshapen jawbone. There was flesh missing in his cheeks, rows, far too many rows, of sharp teeth poking through. And his eyes. They glowed a burning red, and there was too many. Three dotted the right side of his forehead, varying in size, and two sat beside his left, ‘normal’, eye. And Widow saw this. And she screamed. But not for the horror that was this man. She could see past that. She was a desperate woman, constantly searching for something she could see and say “I know that. I know what that is”. And now she could. She looked at that man, ‘Reaper’, and saw not what horrors had befallen him, but the man he had once been before. She saw a grim man sitting across from her at a board meeting she’d attended. Why was she there? She felt she shouldn’t have been. She was there in someone’s place. Who’s? She saw a man smiling, standing on the other side of the room at a party, talking to a blonde man with shining white teeth and blue, blue eyes. She felt a hand on her hip. Who had that been? She saw a man sitting a few seats away at a dinner, between a woman with the softest looking black hair she’d ever seen, and a younger man, barely an adult, who was somehow pulling off a tuxedo-with-stetson combination. She heard a man’s voice next to her offer her some of his wine. Who’s voice had that been? She couldn’t remember. But she remembered this man. And that’s all she needed to know.She cried out, bare feet running towards the man. The woman had called him Gabriel. She repeated this over and over to herself. Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel, Reyes. Something clicked in her mind. He looked directly at her, confusion, then recognition, contorting his misshapen face. But she didn’t reach him. The men who had been standing beside her reached out, grabbing her by the arms, and pulling her back. She tried to struggle forward, tears lashing down her face, but they dug their nails into her too-soft skin and hauled her backwards towards the door. ‘I remember you!’ she choked out, before they slammed the door in her face and she was dragged back to the liquid. And everything went dark. And, once again, she couldn’t remember.
|
10031843
|
Deja Vu
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Leo Fitz, Framework Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons",
"Fandom": "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by grapehyasynth",
"chapters": "2/2",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "3,691",
"Additional Tags": "Framework, post 4x15, fitz remembers, Reunions, Angst and Fluff and Smut, lots o emotions",
"Relationship": "Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Leopold Fitz is the fucking shit and he knows it.Tonight’s banquet isn’t officially being held in his honor, but they might as well have hung a banner emblazoned with the words “Hydra’s science division would be nothing without you, Mr. Fitz, so thank you for saving us from execution at the hands of our terrifying bosses”. Then again, he could understand why brevity would demand they limit it to “Another Successful Year!”He turns thirty next week and he is on top of the world. His father is the richest man in the world, making him the second richest; he has a fleet of limousines and a never-ending line of women eager to spend an afternoon, an evening, a night-but-no-breakfast with him; he has more research money than he could spend in three lifetimes.His tuxedo and this fancy dinner are just the cream on top.He eases through the hall, shaking hands, tossing witty barbs, further endearing himself with his insecure colleagues who all crave his affirmation. Somewhere along the way a glass of champagne ends up in his hand; he rolls the stem between his thumb and forefinger as he looks for an interesting target. His father has taught him well in the art of acting like people less intelligent than he are fascinating, but sometimes he is still that bored little boy, frustrated out of his mind by the mundanities of ordinary people. If he can find someone entertaining enough to hold his attention for the evening, it will be an unmitigated success.As he passes the open French doors, he thinks he has found it. A woman stands out on the balcony in a thin-strapped navy blue dress sewn with beads that catch the light from the hall. She is dazzling, even from behind, her hair swept into a bun that cascades into curls. He has seen her around the department but always walking away, leaving a room, ending a conversation; she barely glances at him, shows none of the interest most people (of any gender, orientation, or relationship status) usually reveal around him.“Aren’t you cold?” he calls from the doorway.She turns to him, loose strands of hair blowing across her face in the breeze and her eyes red-rimmed as if she’s come out here to have a cry, and it hits Fitz in the gut.
She is standing before him in a sweater and jeans, paler, hair wilder, defeated and desperate. She is buffeted by the wind as she stands at the edge of the ramp, but she seems to be telling him something. He needs to get to her, he knows that, but he doesn’t know how, and he is screaming, he is screaming her name—
Fitz has to catch himself on the doorframe as the force of the image hits him. What the hell was that? The woman smiles quickly, wipes at her eyes delicately so as not to smear her makeup, and crosses the balcony to him. In the light he can see a bloom of freckles on her chest just before it disappears into her dress, and she is wearing a necklace that seems eerily familiar to him. Maybe she is one of his past romantic entanglements?“Hello,” she says softly. “I don’t think we’ve met. I work in biochemistry. I’m—”“Jemma,” Fitz breathes.She starts back from her, her extended hand flying to curl around her neck. “How did you know that?”“I – I don’t know,” he admits.The way she’s looking at him – even that’s familiar. Her lips are just slightly parted, her eyes wide and her brows scrunching up towards the middle of her forehead. He’s seen this look before. Except then she wore a black button-up sweater over a blouse and her hair was shorter and she was holding a tablet and there was – there was some sort of glass box –Whatever this is, déjà vu or premonition or evidence of reincarnation, Fitz doesn’t like it. He feels vulnerable, exposed, confused, off his game, weaknesses he never feels. But at the same time…At the same time, Fitz has never felt this intrigued. Curious. Fascinated. Thrown for a loop, certainly, but – thrown into a new loop, maybe, something dangerous and humbling and complicated but infinitely more interesting.Less than a minute has passed since he first saw her on the balcony, and he has become a person he hardly recognizes.People are moving to their seats for the first course. Jemma glances at him, something akin to fear in her expression, and makes to walk away as well, but he catches her hand.“Who are you?” he whispers.She looks down at their joined fingers and swallows. “Someone you used to know.”They end up seated beside each other, because of course they do. Fitz can barely eat, he’s so driven to distraction. Usually, in a situation like this, with a woman this beautiful, he’d pick up her napkin when she drops it, he’d tease her about how she holds her fork, he’d amuse her with endless useless facts about quail eggs, he’d have her hand high on his thigh by the end of the dinner –But with Jemma, he’s too busy thinking that she’d much prefer a beer to the wine she’s barely touched. He can even picture her in some university club, some underground bar he somehow knows she – they? – used to frequent. He sees the way she pushes her vegetables around and he knows she’s sorting them, planning the bites she’ll take throughout the meal. Some hair falls loose from her updo but she doesn’t tuck it back behind her ears; he knows, somehow, that she only does that when she’s in the middle of a very important breakthrough.He has no right to know these things, but he does, and he needs more. His clothes suddenly feel ill-fitting, the champagne tastes sour, there are too many people in this room – why did he think he liked this kind of thing?When Jemma leaves, before everyone else, he topples his chair in his haste to follow her. He has run after her before, he’s certain, though usually she was in distress and he went to comfort her, because when she cries she does it where no one can see. Because she is the strongest person he knows and when she needs to be weak, she hides it. Hides it from everyone but him. Cries into his chest – he can feel it, can imagine – remember? – what it is like to hold her.Outside, she is waiting for a cab. She glances over her shoulder at him nervously.“Please,” he finds himself saying. “I have to know – I have to understand – what the hell is happening to me?”A car pulls up. Jemma’s hand is on the doorhandle when she looks back at him, her chin trembling slightly but her jaw set with determination. A look he knows. A look he misses.“Now? You want to talk about this now?”
He is trying to keep her out. Trying to keep this from happening again. He can live with this tenuous balance, with just being friends. That’s what he tells himself as she rambles, as he finishes packing, as he brushes her off.
But she catches his hand.
“Maybe there is.”
“Not here,” she says finally. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk without being overheard?”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Fitz is brimming with nervous agitation as Jemma surveys his penthouse studio apartment. Normally in an evening this is a moment of self-congratulation, the sleek wood and open floor plan taking the breath away from any of his rotation of female guests. But normally he is here to take their breath away, not the other way around.He clears his throat and puts his hands on his hips, if only for something to do with them. The words heavy with familiarity in his mouth, he says stiffly, “So. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”Jemma smiles slightly but doesn’t answer. He follows her, a few steps behind, as she trails a hand over his kitchen countertop, along the dining table, weaving through the leather couches and up the few steps into the bedroom. She doesn’t glance at the massive bed, done up by Fitz’s maid since he’d left that morning. She stops at one of the windows, gazing out over the city and, beyond it, the lake shimmering with moonlight; her face is unreadable in her reflection.“You have quite the enviable life here,” she says without turning. “I can understand why you enjoy yourself so much.”“We can talk here, I promise.” He’s trying not to plead. “I designed Hydra’s surveillance tech, and I’m the only one who knows how to block it. We won’t be overheard. Just – please, tell me, what the hell is happening to me?”She faces him, her shoulder blades almost pressed against the window. The distance between them feels unnatural. “What do you think is happening to you?”“I don’t – I don’t know, I –” He’s breathless, at a loss for words. His father would be so ashamed. “Since I saw you on the balcony I’ve been having these – these episodes, flashes of another version of me – it’s not possible, but— They feel like memories.”Her shoulders noticeably relax as she breathes out. “They are memories. It’s you.”“Then doesn’t – it’s not possible—“ He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands. “That would make this, like, an alternate reality, or something, and we’re not even close to producing that kind of tech—““Not here, you’re not. There? You’ve outdone yourself.” She steps closer. “What do you remember about … me?”“You’re Jemma Anne Simmons, from Sheffield,” he replies without hesitation. “I don’t know how I know that, but – you’re less than a month younger than me. We met when we were sixteen. You were the first person I was ever happy to admit was smarter than me. I think you’re the smartest person in the world. You hate raw tomatoes and like your toast slightly underdone. You always prefer window seats—““Everyone prefers window seats,” Jemma scoffs.“I don’t, then you have to climb over everyone to use the loo. But you – you need the window, to watch everything happen. You love exploring. You have a thirst for adventure I’ll never understand, but I’d follow you anywhere so—“ He shuts his mouth quickly. Too much. It’s all too much. What he knows of her, what he feels for her – it’s unbearable. “Earlier,” he says, voice low and shaking, “you said you’re someone I used to know. Who are you really?”Jemma shakes her head slightly and looks to the ceiling, then back to him, the seedlings of tears on her eyelashes. “Someone who loves you.”“Are you quoting Star Wars to me? I hate Star Wars. Oh god, no I don’t, how could I ever – I love Star Wars, I can quote the entire original trilogy. What monster doesn’t – how could I – how could he—“ Something more important pushes its way through. “When you say you’re someone who loves me, do you mean… do we—“ He glances over at the bed beside them.“Don’t go all blushing schoolboy on me now,” she chuckles. “I know your reputation.”“His reputation,” Fitz answers automatically. “That’s not – it suddenly seems so bloody obvious, that, the women, the money, this—“ He gestures around the apartment. “That’s not – me. That’s not who I am. Who – who the hell am I?”Jemma steps right up to him, as if with the emotional distance they’re crossing she can cross the space between them. “You’re my Fitz,” she whispers.He has just a moment to be struck by the sheer rightness of her use of the name – everyone else calls him Leo, to avoid confusion with his father, but he’s always preferred his surname and could never say why – before she brings first one hand, then the other, to his face, cradling it gently.Her fingers are icy cold, but it is from the sheer ecstasy of her touch that he must close his eyes. He knows in that instant that every bit of her will fit perfectly around every contour of his own body. And as if by some kind of interdimensional muscle memory, her touch brings everything back. Most of the memories revolve around Jemma, but not all: there is another young woman he remembers confiding in, an older man whose sternness overlaid a fatherly concern, a giant of a man for whom he felt the most searing friendship and gratitude, images of his mother, his loving, gentle, patient mother, whom he’s not seen in twenty years.He remembers them all. He remembers every second of it, remembers it with such clarity and brilliance that it drives all feeling for this existence right out of his mind. He remembers the pain as well as he remembers the joy, but he remembers it.He laughs in disbelief.“What’s so funny?” Jemma inquires.“Nothing, I just –“ He slowly opens his eyes. “I’m so relieved, I – I had no idea, but—Why are you smiling?”“I missed you so much,” Jemma breathes.She flings her arms around his neck, and whatever he thought earlier about knowing how it would feel to hold her was a wild underestimation. His shoulder has never had any purpose greater than to support her chin. It is her shoulder. He clutches her, terrified she’ll disappear and leave him in this life, aware of who he is but lost from everything and everyone he loves.When she gently pushes back from him, he can’t let her fully go. He kisses just under her right eye and murmurs, “I missed you, Jemma.” He nuzzles her cheek with his nose, reveling in the way her eyelashes flutter at the sensation. “God, I – I feel like I’d been dreaming until you came along.”“That’s terribly cliché,” she chuckles, fiddling with his bowtie.“In case you haven’t noticed, this version of me is a bit of an arse,” he reminds her with a wince.“Indeed. Have you seen your haircut?” She runs her fingers through the curls on top of his head, her fingernails just brushing his scalp. “Pick a length, for goodness’s sake, Fitz. I love the curls, but – this is a bit Hitler Youth, don’t you think?”“Oi! Hydra prides itself on its Nazi association. My haircut is very Hitler youth.” Fitz mimes gagging. “I’ll have my doorman bring up a razor tomorrow morning.”“Do you hear yourself?” There are happy tears streaking down Jemma’s face as she curls one hand around Fitz’s ear. “You have a doorman.”“God, I’m insufferable,” he groans, nestling his face in the crook of her neck. It is the warmest, softest, safest, most comfortable place he’s ever hidden and he may never come out.“I will gladly suffer you in any version of reality,” he only barely hears Jemma whisper.He kisses her neck where his lips already are, kisses up the column of her throat until he can look at her. Her eyes are blazing with a ferocity he’s sure is directed at the million seemingly insurmountable obstacles she has surmounted to be here, to be with him, to save him and their friends. Her eyes are a fire, and he wants to be consumed.He leans in to within just a hairsbreadth of kissing her, so close she tilts her chin up, eager to receive. “I love you, Jemma Simmons.”In answer she surges to meet him, one hand at the back of his head and the other already working his tuxedo jacket off. If her first touch on his face had been ecstasy, kissing her is nirvana.“How long has it been since we’ve done this?” he gasps as she fumbles with the zip at the back of her dress and he tosses his jacket and tie aside.“In reality? About a week. Here, twenty-nine years, apparently.”“Either way, we’re overdue,” he groans, catching her about the waist just as her dress falls to the floor and stumbling with her to the bed.She releases him from his other self’s clothes, helping him shimmy down the dress trousers while he yanks his shirt straight over his head without undoing the buttons.“Eager. I like it,” Jemma pants, grinning lasciviously up at him.“You knew that the instant I remembered you we’d fall right into bed, didn’t you?” He dives down for a kiss so long they both almost lose breath, but as she searches for more he pulls back and slides down the bed to undo the straps of her heels. “What would you have done if I’d not come to, slept with me anyway?”“Arse or not, I still found you devilishly attractive, unfortunately,” Jemma admits.He snorts. “Of course you did.”He lifts her foot as he slips her second shoe off and kisses just above the jutting anklebone. Her eyes flicker closed for a second, her stomach contracting. Taking that as a plea to continue, he kneels just on the edge of the bed, leaning down to kiss below her kneecap, to the side of it, just above it. He considers licking it but she’ll surely laugh at him, however desperately much they both want this.There are new scars across her skin, a new tightness to her muscles. He has so many questions he needs to ask her, so many dark suspicions beginning to form, but she seems to understand, grazing his bare shoulder with her hand, urging him on.He is somewhere on her upper thigh, a hand on her hip and the edge of her pants just inches from his nose, when she giggles.“Seriously?” He pouts up at her, even as he rubs his cheek across her leg.“I’m sorry, it’s just – you know this isn’t real, right? We’re not actually having sex.”“Uh, excuse me, Simmons, but I fully intend for the orgasm I give you to be real.”“I should hope not! Poor Elena is watching over my immobile body, we’d give her a terrible shock. I mean – this is all in our heads, Fitz. Why weren’t we using the VR tech for this ages ago? It’s really the only appropriate application. We could’ve been having sex at work and no one would’ve known.”“Appropr— You’ve got to get your priorities straight, woman.” As she laughs at him, he pulls her pants down with one finger, just revealing her, but she catches his chin as he lower his face to kiss between her legs.“Not now, Fitz,” she whispers, “please. We can’t waste any more time.”“Who’s eager now?” he chuckles, but he obliges, and together they divest themselves of their remaining clothing.It is unlike any other time they have made love. Their first time was so tentative and exploratory and awestruck; occasionally they will be wine-drunk and giggly; too often, since the madness with Radcliffe began, they are hurried and needy.Tonight, it as if the galaxy centers on them. As if time will wait for them. As if their very coupling is necessary for the universe to continue.As he sinks into Jemma, Fitz whimpers with the sensory overload, the feel of her around him, her legs bracketing his hips, her hands gripping his forearms too tightly, the flush across her chest and the way her head jerks slightly when he’s gone as far as he can, her little gasp.One of her hands slips around to his arse, already clenched and trembling as he slowly, slowly pulls nearly all the way out, breathing ragged.“Are you sure you don’t want me to—“ he pants, hand hovering over her bare breasts, darting down towards her clit.“Oh, I want you to,” she says hoarsely. “Just not – first – together?”He understands. They don’t always understand each other but when it matters most, they somehow do.The next time he enters her, he lowers his torso at the same time, slides an arm under her back and brings her up to him, holds her to him and kisses a thousand lifetimes full of love against her lips. From this position she can rock against him, can grind down along his cock so that they must both throw their heads back. Her hands don’t know what to do – they squeeze his arse and ghost up his chest and brush along his back and tense on the muscles of his thighs but finally she just grabs his face, desperate as the tempo increases, and they kiss and gasp for air and kiss and gasp for air and nearly suffocate as they kiss and come around and within each other.Jemma pants against his cheek. They are both trembling; his thighs are burning and the sweat on the both of them shimmers in the overpriced mood lighting of his apartment. They should separate but they cannot. They will not.At long last Jemma drags her head up to kiss the corner of his mouth, then eases herself off him. They make a simultaneous sound of protest, of loss, as they part, and their eyes catch, laughing, embarrassed. Jemma drops back across the downy comforter, limbs at odd angles, eyes dreamy, lips swollen and satisfied.Fitz wants to say something. Anything. Given where they are and what Jemma has likely had to do to reach him, what they’ve just done is nothing short of remarkable.But there is only one thing he feels is momentous enough, and he needs to wait until they return to reality before he can say it.So he stretches out beside her, partly on top of her, an arm loosely over her waist, and slips into dreams as she strokes the back of his neck. They will talk later. They will get up in a moment to clean up, to get dressed, to slip under between the sheets and cuddle til dawn (and maybe later). For now, Fitz listens to the breathing of his interplanetary, interdimensional, badass superwoman love slow and calm. He lays beside her not a changed man so much as a recovered, retrieved, returned one.
|
10039334
|
Grim
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Sirius Black, George Weasley, Original Character",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by drachenmina [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2008-04-21T00:00:00",
"words": "3,449",
"Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Bestiality, Heterosexual Sex, Slash sex, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Humor, Parody, Romance",
"Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Snuffles whined, tail firmly between his legs. Remus was off playing happy bloody families with Tonks – they’d never had much of a honeymoon, they said, and now Teddy was being looked after by his Granny, well, the afterlife was their oyster – and James and Lily were busy angsting over Harry. So the boy turned out to be a shirt-lifter. Big fat hairy deal. Long as he steered clear of that raving queen Snivelly – and how the bloody hell did he manage to survive, anyway? – the boy’d be fine.But nobody, it seemed, had time to take Snuffles for a walk.………………….Sirius had tried asking Albus once or twice – but ever since the bloody kraut megalomaniac died he’d been avoiding that little slice of heaven like the plague. Queers he could live with – long as they didn’t get too lovey-dovey in front of him – but old men slobbering all over each other? Urghh. It made even Snuffles want to puke.Snuffles walked on morosely. Wait. That was new.There was a sort of doorway standing there in the middle of nowhere, a wispy curtain hanging from it. It seemed vaguely familiar.Snuffles cocked his leg at it thoughtfully, and ambled through.………………………Harry was ecstatic. Snape had said yes! They were going to get married – well, enter into a civil partnership. Harry hated that term. It just sounded so bloody civil. Like they were two Victorian gentlemen sealing a business arrangement, where the most physical contact they’d have would be a firm, manly handshake.Harry was intending for Snape to do a damn sight more than that with his firm, manly hands. And firm, manly other bits.There was the slight problem that they hadn’t actually told anyone about their relationship.But hey! He was the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice. What could possibly go wrong?……………………..Severus was cursing. What on earth had possessed him to agree to marry that blasted boy?Clearly, he had been led astray by his baser instincts.His cock, which had hardly bothered him for years, had begun to take a most unseemly interest in affairs ever since the brat had first clumsily propositioned him, no doubt due to the prospect that it might, finally, Get Some.Maybe he should just shag the boy – but no: his chastity had been the one principle he had managed to hold onto throughout the Voldemort years; he was not turning into a harlot now.………………………..Hermione sat back on her heels, pleased with herself. She’d followed the book’s detailed instructions to the letter, and she thought it had gone rather well.It had been so good of George to agree to help out. He seemed to understand how important it was to her to get these things right before her wedding to Ron.“So, what did you think?” she asked brightly.“Guh,” mumbled the boneless puddle on the bed that had, until recently, been George Weasley.Hermione sighed. She’d just given him a blowjob; the least he could do was give her some constructive criticism.……………………Harry had decided to hold a party, to announce the glad news of their engagement to the world. He seemed to think everyone would be overjoyed to hear that the Saviour of the World had fallen in love with an unattractive ex Death Eater twice his age.Privately Severus considered it all too likely to turn into a lynch mob. He’d be lucky if he escaped from the festivities with his gonads intact.Severus comforted himself with the thought that at least there was no chance that Sirius Bloody Black would turn up to balls up his life this time.…………………………Hermione settled down cosily in her armchair with a cup of cocoa. She’d just had a new book delivered, and was looking forward to learning all that “What a Wizard Wants” could teach her. It was so interesting comparing the wizarding and muggle takes on sex, she’d discovered. And she’d learned lots of useful charms. And a whole new vocabulary.Suddenly she frowned at the sentence she was reading. “Different wizards will have different likes and dislikes in bed.” Bother!Sighing in resignation, she threw a handful of floo powder into the fire.“Percy? I’m going to need your help.”……………………….. Snuffles found himself in a bare room. There was nothing there, apart from the doorway he had just come through, its curtain flapping in the non-existent breeze. Again there was the nagging sense of familiarity. Snuffles snuffled around a bit. Yes! He had been here before! And there was a faint whiff of Harry too, and Remy.There was a door set in the wall. Snuffles tried scratching at it, then whining, but nobody came to open it. Sod it, he thought, and barked.The door opened at that, and Snuffles wagged his tail joyfully at an astonished Ministry employee.…………………………Hermione was writing up her notes. She’d decided on a colour-coding system. Green ink for George, and purple for Percy.It really had been most educational, comparing the two. There was no doubt she would have to do further research. She thought carefully. Charlie, unfortunately, was still in Romania. Fred, even more unfortunately, was dead, and Hermione had no plans to add that to her repertoire. Bill – well, there was the problem of getting past Fleur.She made a sudden decision, and walked purposefully to the floo. “Arthur? I know you’re awfully busy being Minister, but I need your help…”…………………………….. Arthur barely had time to offer Hermione a seat before a flustered member of the Department of Mysteries entered, dragging a large black dog. “Minister? Sorry to interrupt, but we thought you should see this – “Arthur rose to his feet. “Sirius?”The dog began to change form. Hermione gasped as it became – well, it was Sirius, but not as she’d seen him before. This was young Sirius.He was gorgeous! Arthur coughed. “Sirius! This is amazing! How in Merlin’s name - ?”He glanced at Hermione, who couldn’t tear her eyes away.“Perhaps we should get you some clothes?”…………………………….Hermione barely paid attention as the Ministry staff bustled around, asking endless questions, most of which he answered with a cheerful “buggered if I know!”She was busy formulating a new plan of action, with the working title of Get Sirius Black.What did she know about him? He was older (although he didn’t look it) and apparently he’d had half of Hogwarts while he was at school. The female half. Excluding the first-years, she supposed, because well. Ewww. Although some of the current first-year girls were awfully pretty…No. She mustn’t get side-tracked. But clearly, she needed more experience………………………………...Snape and Harry were having a quiet evening in at Grimmauld Place.Harry snuggled a bit closer to Snape on the sofa. “Hey, now we’re engaged, maybe we could, you know, do a bit more than just hold hands?”Severus sighed. “Very well. You may kiss my cheek.” He held it out stiffly, glaring sideways at his fiancé.“Er, yeah, that’d be nice, but it wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”Harry was just wondering if he’d survive suggesting a kiss on the lips, when without warning half the Order of the Phoenix seemed to burst through the floo.……………………………“Severus! Harry! You’re not going to believe this! Look who it is!”Bloody right Severus didn’t believe it. The man who stood before him now was one he’d hoped never to see again in this life – or the next, spies and Slytherins being in his view highly unlikely to end up in the same place as those of the Gryffindor persuasion. Not only was the wretch grinning inanely as if mere existence were something to be proud of, he added insult to injury by appearing to be about twenty years younger than he ought. Than Severus was.Sirius Bloody Black. …………………………..“Hey Harry, we should go out! Hit the town, pick up some birds, you know.”Severus groaned. Black was barely a day into his reincarnation and already he wanted to go out and get laid. Worse, he apparently wanted to get his Harry laid.“Leave old Snivelly behind, he’ll be happier with a book anyway. Don’t know what he’s hanging around here for anyway.”“Um, well… “ Harry was clearly torn.“You may as well go, Potter. I assure you I shall welcome the peace and quiet.”Black grinned. “Come on, Harry, we’ll soon cure you of this gay thing.”………………………………..“You know I’m gay?” Harry was surprised. Last time he’d seen Sirius alive, he hadn’t known.“Course I do. It’s all James and Lily talk about these days.”“What, you mean they’re, um, watching me?”“Well, there’s bugger all else to do there. It’s not like we get cable.”Harry swallowed, feeling a bit queasy. For the first time, he was glad Severus had insisted upon chastity until their wedding.After hearing his parents, and for all he knew, bloody Dumbledore as well, were watching his every move it was going to take months before he’d be able to perform.……………………………….Hermione was so pleased Charlie had come to visit. Percy had been all very well, but she hadn’t felt that he’d been all that experienced. How could he give her a proper critique, if he had nothing to compare with?Charlie, by contrast, had been able to give her lots of valuable suggestions.Although it had been a little disconcerting, when he kept slapping her rump and calling her girl, and she’d been surprised he’d kept his dragon-keeper’s leathers on throughout.Still, he’d been most appreciative of the blow-job. Apparently his usual girl-friends weren’t up for oral sex at all.………………………………It was fun having someone like Sirius to go out with, Harry thought. Someone who liked a laugh and a dance and wasn’t averse to the odd drink or six. He loved Severus, he really did, but fun wasn’t really in his fiancé’s vocabulary.Half an hour later he’d revised that opinion. Sirius was off dancing indecently closely to some tart he’d picked up, while Harry was stuck listening to her plainer companion who was complaining never-endingly that her friend always bagged the fit blokes and she was left with their loser mates, present company excepted of course.Yeah, right.……………………..“So, Harry, you pulled yet?”Harry looked pointedly at the empty seats all around him. His gloomy expression had driven off even the most desperate, lonely clubgoers.“Listen, you don’t mind if I head off with – buggrit, forgotten her name already. The blond tart. With the tits. I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?”Harry nodded morosely, and eyed his lager shandy. It’d gone all warm and flat, and someone had dumped their fag-end in it. Sighing, he got up and headed for the door. Half-way there, he stopped in amazement. It was Hermione.But not as he’d ever seen her before.………………………Hermione hoped the men dancing around her appreciated the effort she’d gone to. The boob tube gave no support at all, and the hot pants were making her itch.She’d been surreptitiously observing her target. Hm. It appeared he favoured well-endowed blondes. Well, she could manage the former, she thought, casting a quick Engorgio that made the eyes of the man nearest to her glaze over alarmingly, but the latter would have to wait until she could get some Sleekeazy’s Siren.And regretfully, another night. She sighed, watching Sirius depart with that dim-witted floozy.And came face-to-face with Harry Potter.…………………………………………………“Hermione! You look, um, different!”Really, if Harry’s eyes widened any more they’d be scooping his eyeballs off the dancefloor.“Well, you know, Harry,” she answered airily. “Sometimes a girl just likes a change of image.” Her eyes narrowed. “So, who was that with Sirius?”“Oh, no idea. Don’t think he has either. Just some girl he’s picked up. He said he’d see me tomorrow. I’m heading home now.” He paused. “Oh, by the way, I’m having a party next Saturday. Tell Ron to tell the Weasleys, OK?”Hermione’s eyes lit up. A party? Sirius was bound to be there!………………………………………………..Chardonnay was, like, right pissed off. She’d pulled this dead gorgeous bloke down the club, and she’d brought him back to hers and he’d been dead sweet, kept telling her he was, like, serious, which was a bit soon but still, him being so keen was sweet, innit?She’d just gone off to slip into this see-through negligee she’d got at TK Maxx – it was, like, designer and everything, dead classy – and when she got back he’d only gone and done a runner.And her precious darling Shih-tzu Muffin was being, like, sexually assaulted by some bloody enormous mangy hound. ……………………………………………. Snuffles padded home mournfully, his fur rather bedraggled from the cold water that’d been poured over it bringing to an abrupt end his little tryst with Muffin. He whined. He’d been well in there, too.OK, so technically it’d been a bit ungentlemanlike, switching his affections like that, but it was only a shag – no need for whats-her-tits to fly off the handle like that. And was it his fault the bird had spent so bloody long getting changed? A bloke could only wait so long, especially with a saucy little minx like Muffin eying him up from her basket. ************************************************The day of the party dawned overcast and gloomy. Much like his lover’s expression, Harry reflected sadly.“What did you invite the miserable git for?” Ron muttered a little too loudly, occasioning a glare from Severus and a sigh of relief from Harry that he’d had the foresight to hide his fiancé’s wand.Ron wasn’t having a good time. Hermione had turned up for the evening in clothes so tight he was pretty certain she’d magicked them on, which was good, but had proceeded to totally ignore him, which wasn’t.And he was confused. Surely she hadn’t always been blonde?…………………………………………………..Hermione swatted irritatedly at Ron, who was following her around like a particularly annoying wasp. She’d really gone to town with her appearance – the lace-up leather trousers, the halter top so small it barely covered her augmented assets, stiletto heels so high and sharp they were probably legally classed as offensive weapons – Sirius had better bloody well be impressed: the shoes would have been killing her if the trousers hadn’t been so tight she’d lost all sensation in her feet.But how to get rid of Ron? She sighed, resignedly, and made a quick floo-call.“Mystick Pizza? Emergency delivery, please.”……………………………………………………Sirius leered at Hermione. The girl was a bloody stunner, and she was definitely up for a bit of pet-the-dog, if he was any judge.All they had to do was lose that bloody annoying ginger shadow. Didn’t Ron see Hermione was totally out of his league? Harry had said they were engaged, but Sirius reckoned his godson was barking up the wrong tree there.Nice enough bloke, Harry – for a poofter – but really, thought Sirius fondly, not the fastest broom in the shed.Poor little sod hadn’t even been able to think up an excuse to not invite Snivelly.………………………………………………. Harry looked around in satisfaction. All his friends were here, and looked like they were having a good time. Except Ron, for some reason, although he’d cheered up markedly when Hermione had handed him a plateful of pizza. Having made sure everyone had a drink to toast the happy couple with, Harry clapped his hands. “Time for our announcement. Everyone – Severus and I are getting married!”There was a stunned silence. Ron actually fell off his chair, landing against the door into the hall.Which swung open to reveal Sirius and Hermione snogging madly, hands down each other’s leather trousers.……………………………………………………………“I don’t bloody believe it,” Harry said morosely, half-heartedly clearing a few glasses from the now deserted sitting room. “Our big announcement – and nobody even cared. All they could talk about was Hermione and Sirius!”“I suppose you’d rather they’d grabbed torches and pitchforks and run me out of town.” Severus couldn’t see what the problem was. After all, surely anything that directed the ire of Potter’s friends away from him and onto Black was a good thing?Harry’s next words only confirmed Severus in this view.“And I was so hoping Ron and me could have a double wedding.”…………………………………………………………Sirius sat slumped in the kitchen ruefully holding an ice-pack to his battered jaw. Ron might look (and even be) gormless, but he had a mean right hook.And Harry was engaged to Snivellus Snape. Sirius reckoned it was a good thing you didn’t need to breathe in the afterlife, as if he ever got back there Prongs’d throttle him for not doing something to stop this.After all, here he was, in loco parentis… Sirius brightened. Hey, that was right! He’d be Snivelly’s godfather-in-law! He’d have the perfect excuse to hang around making the greasy bastard’s life a misery.…………………………………………………………………Hermione found she had mixed emotions. On the one hand, she’d been so close to getting a little trip to heaven with her dreamy dog star. On the other hand, well, Sirius really hadn’t been terribly impressive slinking off whimpering, tail very firmly between his admittedly gorgeous legs, when Ron had laid into him so forcefully. She’d really never imagined Ron could be so aggressive. So manly. Perhaps looks weren’t everything, after all.She came to a sudden decision. “Ronald?” Take me home.” She pouted, running her fingers coquettishly up his arm. “I want to make this up to you…”**********************************************************The wedding had been set for June; the friends and relatives cajoled or browbeaten into attending, and firmly reassured that this wasn’t just some massive practical joke.So he’d sent the invites April 1st. Sirius hadn’t meant anything by it.Harry was racing around the house madly, delirious with the thought that in a few short hours, he’d finally get to see what Snape kept in those godawful greying knickers of his.Sirius had offered to show Harry his memory of the time James had whipped them off, but unaccountably the boy still seemed to want to marry the git.……………………………………………………..The organ swelled (Sirius sniggered at that thought) with the sound of the Wedding March. He walked into the hall proudly, Harry on his arm, resplendent in white robes. He looked like a bloody poof in them, but resignedly, Sirius supposed that was the point. He glanced around at the massed congregation. A pretty good turnout, really. All the Hogwarts Professors were there.His eyes lit upon a short, stocky figure with close-cropped hair and, unless he was very much mistaken, the sort of thighs that could crush a man to death.What a way to go, he thought dreamily.*********************************************************************“Harry! Good to see you, mate! So, er, how was the honeymoon?” “Fantastic! Severus complained about the food, of course, said he wasn’t going to eat any of that foreign muck – ““Blimey, mate, you only went to the Isle of Wight!”“Yeah, but there’s a lot of Indian restaurants there.”“So, did you see all the sights?”“Yeah! We saw the Needles, Carisbrooke Castle – and this standing stone that’s supposed to exert a magical influence after dusk.”“So did it?” “Put it this way, Ron: we spent the next three days in Parkhurst prison, charged with gross public indecency!”……………………………………………………………………..“So, how did you get out of prison?”“Well, Severus is an animagus! He never told anyone because he didn’t want them to laugh.”“Don’t tell me, let me guess – he’s a little fluffy kitten, right? Or a bunny rabbit?”“Let’s just say, if you ever want a restaurant closed down, Severus is your cockroach.”“Right… so he could crawl out, but what about you?”“He taught me!”“You learned the animagus transformation in three days? From Snape?”“He’s got a new teaching method. Positive reinforcement.”“Yeah?”“Mmm. It’s amazing what you can learn on the promise of a blowjob.”…………………………………………………….. “So, you two are back on track, then?” Harry asked Ron.“Yeah, wedding’s back on. ‘Mione said she didn’t know what came over her.”Harry wisely didn’t mention that from what he’d heard, it’d been most of Ron’s family. “Glad to hear it mate. Bit of a surprise about Sirius, though, wasn’t it?”“Too right. Who’d have thought he’d end up with her?”They watched as Madame Hooch briskly called the black dog beside her to “Heel!” The dog wagged its tail as it complied, and smiling, she threw a stick for it. Snuffles wuffed, and bounded after it joyfully. Fin.AN: Mystic Pizza, for those of you too young to remember, was a late 80s film starring Julia Roberts. What a Wizard Wants was inspired by a well-thumbed book revered by the German housewife I au-paired for in a similar era, entitled Was MännerMögen. Sadly, that one turned out to be about cooking.
|
10073828
|
Naked
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Severus Snape, Rubeus Hagrid, Original Character",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by naturegirlrocks",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2009-11-07T00:00:00",
"words": "1,818",
"Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Sexual Content, Humor, Parody, Pre-Slash, Romance",
"Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Harry stood stark naked in the Hogwarts flower garden. The sun was coming down behind the castle. Light rays of the disappearing celestial body flickered over his face. It was about a quarter past 8 PM. Harry knew this since he had been called to detention by Snape at eight. He also knew why he was naked. Sevrus had asked him if he had wanted to try something new. All of Harrys eighteen year old hormones had kicked in and the twenty year older man had smiled. Or, at least he had smiled in a way that Harry could see it was a smile and not a smirk. Harry undressed while the potions master had gone into his other room to collect this new thing. While he walked away he told Harry he’d better go to the bathroom before they got started. This had sent tingles trough Harrys spine. After he had finished his business, he noticed an empty toilet paper roll on the sink. Harry sighed, though all his tidiness Snape never could remember to throw away the old roll when he had exchanged the paper. One of the small things about him that was endearing and irritating at the same time. Harry had teased him on this several times. As he took the roll of the sink something had happened. That bastard! That bloody bastard! Harry looked down at the empty roll. A Portkey! Sevrus Snape had actually lured him with a Portkey! Bastard! Though it was kind of exciting… He felt a tingle through his body and groin. No! It was one thing to find himself naked in the garden, a completely other thing to find himself naked in the garden with an erection. He looked down at the Portkey again. Was there something written in the inside? He tarred up the hard paper. Inside, in Sevrus neat handwriting stood a message. That bastard, that utter, sexy, hot bastard. “Come back here, Potter. Bring me back something good.”Harry flushed. Oh he’d bring his back something good alright. How ‘bout a bucket of manure? He looked around. How was he to get back to the dungeons anyway? Curfew was an hour and a half away. Anybody could come here and discover him at anytime. Most likely it would be Professor Sprout. Harry shuttered, he would want to be able to have an erection later on this night. This thought made him start walking, taking a detour around the pinching lilies. First he had to get back to the castle with out being noticed. “’Ello, ‘Arry !“ A bass voice sounded behind him. “Takin’ a late nigh’ strawl are yeh?” “Hi Hagrid,” Harry covered himself with his hands and turned around. “Just walking…” “Lovely…” Hagrid smiled. “Jus’ taken’ Fang for a walk meself.”Harry looked at the enormous dog. The animals watering eyes looked dully on Harry, like he had seen it all before. Funny enough, Hagrid looked like he’d seen it all before too. “You’re not going to ask me why I’m naked then?” “I was thinkin’ yeh had yer reasons,” said the half giant. “I live at a school, yeh know? Seen plenty o’ streakers in ma’ days.” “’Streaker’? Yes, yes! I’m streaking. Studentjoke, you know…” Harry weighed on his heels looking nervously around. “Yeah, me and Ron, just laughing about… That’s what we do…” “Yeh need help there ‘Arry?” Hagrid smiled gently down at him. “Actually…” Harrys lips so badly wanted to say yes “…no. I’ll just think I’ll be on my way.” “Good enough, I don’ think I ‘ave anytin’ that would fit yah, anyways.” “Yeah… See you later then.” “See yah, give ma best to Ron.”Harry scurried away, embraced out of his life. He was going to kill Snape for this. As he came to the greenhouse he cought sight of a large rake. Tempting, very tempting. Harry felt the door. Locked. He wished he had his wand, but it lay on the dungeon floor, along with his pants. Sure, he could break the glass with his crude wandless magic but then, he could do the same with a stone. So, the rake had to wait, for later. He moved on. Suddenly he heard voices, worse, Slytherin voices. Harry panicked and jumped into the nearest bush. The plant was not high enough to hide him, but if he curled up and didn’t move, no one would notice. He hoped. He hoped wrong. “Hi Harry!” whispered a voice next to him in the bushes. “Neville?” Harry panicked again. “Hi, you haven’t seen Trevor have you?” “No, no frogs or toads here.” Harry blushed. “Typical,” Neville listened to the group of first year Slytherins moving past them led on by their prefect Pansy Parkinson. She looked sour, as she did not want to spend her evening looking after the young wizards. Her stern voice ran out to tell the group to hurry up. Neville smiled as they passed. “So, why are you naked?” “I’m streaking,” growled Harry, he was so going to get Sevrus for this. “Oh!” Neville looked exited. “I have never done that. Is it fun?” “Hilarious,” sighed Harry “I wish I could join you,” he mused. “But I have to find Trevor and finish my project in the green house before curfew.” “Well, maybe some other time then.” Harry was looking out of the bushes to see if the coast was clear. “Do you think I can reach the kitchen backdoor form here? Without being seen I mean.” “You’ll be better of trying the garden shed, over there.” Neville pointed to a small wooden building about fifty meters away. “There is a hidden walkway to castle behind the seed cupboard. Professor Sprout showed it to me, so I wouldn’t be late for her classes.” “Right, okay. Thanks.” He got ready to leave the bushes. “Tell me next time, Harry!” Neville’s eyes tingled with boldness. “We can run across the Quiddich pitch, like the muggles do when they play football.” “Eeeh, sure…” Harry leapt out of the bushes and ran towards the shed. It was not locked.Inside he saw several gardening tools he would like to put to Snapes back, and up his backside for that matter. He pushed the seed cupboard to the side and saw a stair going down through the floor. Harry had not looked at the Marauders Map for some time, but had a faint memory of the shortcut. It would end up in a Hufflepuff corridor, if he remembered correctly. But then he had to go though several other corridors and stairs to get to the dungeon. He would have to wait until everybody hade gone to bed. But if something would go wrong, he would be caught, naked, after hours and in the wrong part of the castle. His original plan had been better; he must go though the kitchens.With a sigh he closed the secret passage. Harry took a deep breath and jumped out of the shed, and scarred the shit out of Mrs Norris. The caretakers’ cat screeched and dug her terrified claws in his calf. “Ouch! Shit! Fuck! Let go!”Mrs Norris drew blood, gave a high pitch screech and ran away as her tail was on fire. “Stupid cat!” Harry linked on his almost severed leg towards the other side of the castle. It was beginning to get dark, but not dark enough to hide. To his utter horror someone suddenly whistled a wolf call after him. Too late he saw the entire Ravenclaw quiddich team coming up from the pitch, dirty from practice. They whooped at him. Harry raised his hand, that with witch he was not covering himself with, and gave a slight wave. He was just to go with the streaking defence again when Neville, quite self-explanatory, ran naked passed them towards the pitch. He looked ecstatic. The Ravenclaws starred wide eyed after him. Harry took the opportunity to run towards the kitchen entrance. As he came inside he leaned against the door. It took him a couple of seconds before he realized that he had yet another audience. Several house elves had stopped in their stride to ogle him. “Tippy sees Harry Potters thingy!” said one of the elves and covered her eyes. “Grocer sees Harry Potters thingy too!” said another one and drew the tea cosy he had on his head over his face.Harry covered himself with his hands again, but the damage had already been done. The elves began to hit their eyes and faces, punishing themselves for looking at his thingy. “Stop it!” Harry almost panicked again. “Give me a sheet or towel or something!”The elves scrambled around a little but some of them still stood with hands over their eyes, pushing hard. Finally Harry got a white clean sheet to rap around himself. He felt a little calmer. “Now,” he said in his best controlled voice. “It is ok that you saw my, err… thingy. No one have to hurt themselves over that. But you don’t have to tell anyone about it.” “Yes, Harry Potter,” the elves nodded in unison. “Good!” Harry took a close tug of the sheet and left the kitchen.He sneaked past the Slytherin corridors, avoiding the popular walkways. Again he cursed over Severus. The Ravenclaws had probably spread to streaking-rumour all over the school by now. He and Neville would not hear the end of it for days, maybe more. “Potter, what are you doing here?”Harry took a deep breath and turned around. “Would you believe it, Malfoy? If I said I was streaking?” “No.” The blond was thankfully alone, that made him less prone to insults. “Plying with the ghosts?” “No.” A small smile flickered over the boy’s lips. “Sneaking off to a hot night with Snape?” “You should have stuck with the streaking,” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Get out of here, you tosser, before I take your sheet from you.” “I’ll just go this way,” Harry pointed and ran around the corner. “He has been hit in the head to many times…” murmured Malfoy and left.Harry waited until it all got quiet before he walked over to Severus door. It opened for him without a touch. The older man sat in a chair by the fire. He laid dawn the book he was reading has Harry entered. “Took you long enough,” ha said with a sneer. “Well,” said Harry and shrugged. “I have brought something back for you.” “What?”Harry threw off the sheet. “Not much,” Severus eyed him with a smile. “You left here with that.” “If you don’t want it…” Harry made a move for the sheet. “It will do,” He held up a hand. “I like it.” “You better,” sneered Harry back. “If you do this again I’ll shove a rake up your arse.” “Promises, promises…” Severus left through the bedroom door, with a sigh Harry followed.
|
10099496
|
In the ruins
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Sorey (Tales of Zestiria), Mikleo (Tales of Zestiria)",
"Fandom": "Tales of Zestiria",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by milka121",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-05T00:00:00",
"words": "1,205",
"Additional Tags": "Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Hand Jobs, Mikleo does not understand why being naked is such a big deal, Pure Smut",
"Relationship": "Mikleo/Sorey",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Sorey hadn’t really thought about sex. That is, until Mikleo decided to randomly strip in Mt. Mabinogio Ruins.Okay, maybe it was partially Sorey’s fault – he had pushed Mikleo into the water, causing them them both to fall in, after all – but he had no idea that it would lead to... this. This being Mikleo unfastening his belts and slipping off of his jacket, boots and trousers, placing them carefully on the dry floor.“Mikleo, what are you doing?” Sorey asked, quickly focusing his eyes at some wonderful mural on the wall.“I’m going to swim,” the seraph answered. “I’m already wet, so I can as well do it.”Sorey caught a glimpse of light skin out of the corner of his eye; his gaze darted towards the seraph…Oh. He shouldn’t have done that. He really shouldn’t.Mikleo has turned, giving the human the perfect view of his back; drops of water slipping down his slim waist, his hips… the curve of his ass… Damn.Then, Mikleo bend over, seemingly to check the water’s temperature with his hand, and Sorey… Yes, he definitely did recognize that heat pooling in his abdomen.“Mikleo,” he said.Seraph turned his head (thank gods he didn’t turn around completely, Sorey thought) and send Sorey an asking look. Sorey swallowed.“Can you just… put your clothes back on?” he asked.“Why?” Mikleo’s brows knitted. “You don’t want to swim together?”“It’s not that!” Sorey protested. “It’s just… It’s uncomfortable.”“Swimming here?” Mikleo said and turned around, exposing himself for Sorey to see – that is, if Sorey hadn’t closed his eyes as soon as he realized what Mikleo was doing. “Hey, what’s up with you?”“Nothing!” Sorey said in high-pitched voice. “It’s just- it’s embarrassing.”“Swimming together?” Mikleo asked. The splashes of water told Sorey that Mikleo was getting closer. “You had no problem doing that when we were younger.”“We are not children anymore, Mikleo.”“Indeed.” The voice was so close now, and Sorey could almost feel Mikleo’s breath on his face. He risked and opened his eyes; he was greeted by Mikleo standing, literally, right under his nose so that Sorey could even see water drops on seraph’s long eyelashes.But Mikleo’s violet eyes weren’t fixed on his face; they were resting much, much lower, looking straight at...“Oh,” said Mikleo, “you are hard.”He said this so casually, so normal, like he would say ‘you are an idiot’ or ‘you have green eyes.’Sorey was tall. Sorey was irritating.Sorey was hard.“Uh,” Sorey said. “It’s- it’s nothing.”He tried to back off, making a half of a step until Mikleo grabbed him by his wrist.“It’s not ‘nothing’, Sorey,” he said. (Sorey tried really, really hard to focus on his face.) “Why does it work like that? Shouldn’t it become this way when you desire a human woman?”Sorey found it really difficult not to break into laughter. He was standing here, in knee-deep water in Mt. Mabinogio ruins, hard, with naked Mikleo beside him, honestly concerned about Sorey’s well-being in that regard.“No, it… sometimes it becomes like that randomly, or… you know.”Mikleo frowned. “What?”Sorey was sure he was blushing. “I mean… you are naked.”Mikleo blinked slowly and send Sorey an owlish glare. “You mean,” he said, “that you desire me?”Oh, gods. “I-I think it’s not that hard to see that,” he stammered.“Oh,” Mikleo answered. His gaze, once again, darted to Sorey’s crotch, examining him with interest. Sorey covered his groin with his hands. “Hey!”“Should I help you?” Mikleo asked.“Wha-what?”“I’m partially responsible, after all,” Mikleo said. “I don’t know how, not really, just – if you need someone-”“Y-yeah,” Sorey said before he could think about it. Mikleo’s eyes widened.“Really?”Sorey couldn’t bring himself to say it. He nodded, blushing furiously, not really knowing what he has just agreed on.Mikleo regarded him for a second, and then, slowly, placed his hands on Sorey’s chest, unhurriedly sliding them on his stomach, and then lower, lower-Sorey hissed, taking a breath.“Sorry!” Mikleo said, quickly putting his hands away, “I didn’t want to-”“It’s- it wasn’t bad,” Sorey interrupted him. “It’s just… sensitive.”Mikleo nodded. He looked at Sorey one final time, as if looking for permission, and then his hand returned to Sorey’s groin, lightly grabbing his dick through the fabric of his trousers. Sorey let out a sigh when Mikleo gave it a delicate squeeze, palming it slowly. Sorey could feel his body getting more and more excited with each passing second.That situation was beyond bizarre, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy that.Mikleo gave him another squeeze and he couldn’t resist a moan slipping from his mouth. His hips pushed forward, into Mikleo’s hand.“M-Mikleo,” he said, trying to stop his voice from shaking, “you can touch it, if you want to.”The seraph didn’t need any more encouragement; he quickly unlaced Sorey’s pants and allowed his hand to slip in his underwear, brushing his erection. Sorey shuddered and grabbed Mikleo by his shoulders, hiding his face in the crook of Mikleo’s neck.Mikleo hand was sloppy, no maintaining any steady rhythm as he moved his wrist up and down Sorey’s length, but it was him, and Mikleo was pressing his naked body against Sorey, so it didn’t take much time to make Sorey pant and he started moving his hips, thrusting into seraph’s hand, small slick sounds echoing in his ears.“Mik-Mikleo,” he whispered, “Mikleo, Mikleo-”“Is it good?” the seraph asked, hint of a curiosity in his voice.“Y-yes, yes,” Sorey moaned, his arms slipping around Mikleo, pulling him even closer, “so good-”Mikleo squeezed and Sorey cried out; he was so close, almost embarrassingly quick, but it was Mikleo who was picking up the pace even more, murmuring something into Sorey’s ear and making the human push his hips against Mikleo’s hand, faster, harder, louder-One more flick of Mikleo’s wrist and Sorey was gone, his whole body shaking, hands gripping Mikleo desperately as he sobbed, staining Mikleo’s hand and stomach with cum.When he was spent, Mikleo got his hand off him, carefully observing the semen dripping from his fingers.“Now I really need myself cleaned out,” he said. And casually licked off a drop of cum with a thoughtful expression, as if he was tasting some rare treat. Sorey felt his body respond, yet it was definitely a little bit too soon after his release to have some real consequences.“Sorry,” Sorey said and swallowed, all of the sudden feeling the dryness of his throat.“No need to apologize,” Mikleo answered, smiling softly. He looked almost celestial, untainted; if not the drops on cum dropping from seraph’s hand into the water, Sorey would not be able to believe that this, in fact, has really happened.Sorey cleared his throat. “Um,” he started, “you can… clean yourself and I’ll… go ahead. Home.”Mikleo nodded and turned around, slipping in the water.Sorey got out of the pool. He made a few steps, and added:“And, Mikleo… That was… nice.”“I know,” Mikleo answered. And giggled.Sorey smirked, and knew that Mikleo did, too.
|
10047608
|
Alternative Santa
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy",
"Fandom": "Gundam Wing",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Not Rated",
"author": "by duointherain",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00",
"words": "1,234",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Alternative Santa Clarita: And the Pig SaidBy MaxDisclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. Note: So this isn’t part of the main Santa Clarita timeline. In the original Santa Clarita, Heero was able to join Duo on the ranch in Wyoming pretty soon after the first year. In my original time through, Duo thought something was going on with Heero’s foster home in New York, stole a plane and went to investigate, with Joel along to keep him from getting in trouble... The older boy who was harassing and molesting Heero was found out and Joel and Martha dealt with issue. In this timeline, Duo got a head injury and spent a year in a coma. Heero eventually got fed up and dealt with the senator’s son on his own, landing him in prison for five years. In this story, Heero actually makes it to Wyoming. He stood there, face passive. The courtroom behind him had been threatened into silence. None of it mattered. Nothing that mattered still existed. At twenty-one he was lean, muscular, his hair buzz cut by the prison barber before he’d been transferred for this trial. There was a roughly shaped 1 burned onto his cheek and he was missing the little finger on his left hand. Looked completely out of place in the grey business suit that had been provided to him. The sleeves too long and the shoulders too tight. The judge, a middled aged black woman with dark eyes disconcertingly protective look on her face smiled at him, or tried, as his return stare stayed just as dead and her smile lasted less than a couple seconds. “Mr. Yuy, you are aware of why you are here, rather than being directly released?”“Yes,” he said, his voice deep, flat, the edge of hatred making his teeth itch. “So you have a statement prepared for the court then?” She tried smiling again, but cringed back from the coldness. “I don’t not,” he said, voice cracking as if he’d just not used it enough in the previous years. “I was hoping you would tell me what you wanted. I was afraid I’d make the wrong one and it wouldn’t be good enough.” “Yes, I see,” she said, swallowing. “The court needs a statement from you that you will never take up arms again. Can you reassure us that you will only fight at the request of Preventers or another legitimate authority?”“I will defend myself, if I need to. Self defense is a human right, but I promise,” he said, voice cracking, rough and grating, “to never defend you people, no matter what happens, I swear on the only person I care about.” “Well, that’s rather bitter, Mr. Yuy.” She said, checking off things on her tablet. “Do you feel you were unjustly punished?”“Yes.” “I am not here to relitigate old cases,” she said sadly, “You had several bank accounts in your name at the time of your arrest. Those have been released back to you. There is an additional account to which supporters of yours have donated over the years. That has also been released to you. You are free to go, Mr. Yuy. I hope you will find contentment and joy in your life.”“I understand that I am allowed contact with my fellow pilots, if we both so choose, is that correct,” Heero asked, chin lifting defiantly, blue eyes narrowed. “Yes, of course, Mr. Yuy, so long as you don’t start an armed insurrection, you may go where you please, do as you please. It is my understanding that Dr. Duo Maxwell is here to pick you up.”“Doctor,” Heero whispered, but the silence in the courtroom broke when the door opened with a creak. Cameras flashed and clicked. Heero’s chin dropped towards his chest. The tie around his neck felt tight, his breath felt thin. Then the cameras turned away from him and he looked up to the door. For a moment, Duo was almost exactly like he had been, like he’d just stepped into the world from that day in Rio when they’d been arrested. He wore a blue hoodie, his hair a framing his face like some elemental force, long strands of darkness clinging to his cheerful face. Duo was the endless mystery, the darkness and the light. Then there was that grin, wide and huge and unstoppable. Heero had only seen it a couple of times, in the few moments when Duo had been completely safe and free and seeing it now rattled the edges of Heero’s safety, the rules he’d had to follow in the prison system, the anger that kept him sane. Duo pushed into the room and the door slammed behind him. Heero flinched, shoulders tightening. Duo held up both hands flicking his hands to make the reporters and other observers backup. To Heero’s surprise, they did, backing away with some kind of respect. Duo winked, posed for a moment, let them take a couple of photos, then strode towards Heero. Heero’s heart raced, feeling he was dirty he was less than he was broken, he was ashamed to be seen like this and he actually looked around to see if he could go in the other direction, but then Duo had his hands. His hands were encompassed in Duo’s warm strong hands and then he was pulled closer, those strong arms going around him and hold him close as if Duo had waited for nothing more than this, as if this were his whole purpose in being. “Heero! I tried so many things! I’m sorry I couldn’t get you free sooner. Come home with me?”And it was enough, in that moment. Heero’s fist closed around Duo’s hoodie, holding him tight. “Home?”“Yes, home,” Duo said, pulling back just enough to look in Heero’s eyes. “You want to come home with me?”He wanted to warn Duo that he wasn’t the same... that a lot had happened since they were arrested. Duo wrapped an arm around his waist and motioned for the door. “Come on, ‘Ro. Everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” Heero didn’t really think so... But if he was going to be in trouble, there was no one better to be in trouble with. When they got in the elevator, Duo pushed the up button, taking them to the roof. Heero, who was still holding Duo’s hand, even though he felt self conscious about it, “You’re.. You’re a doctor?” “Yeah,” Duo said, “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it, but let’s get home first.” On the roof, there was an advanced helicopter, and a blond man leaning against it, smoking, smirking. Heero tried to pull his hand back, to look away. “Is he.. He your boyfriend?”Duo turned to walk backwards, drawing Heero’s fingers to his lips, “No! He’s my adopted dad. Joel, this is Heero Yuy, Heero, Joel.” Joel tucked his cigarette between his lips, held out his hand to shake, “Good to meet you, Heero. I have heard so much about you.” “The letters... you sent me letters,” Heero said, stepping into the helicopter. “Yeah, Heero,” Duo said, getting in and closing the door behind him. “I wrote you letters. Don’t tell anyone.” As the helicopter lifted off, Heero felt... different... free.. And maybe like he’d never been as alone as he’d thought.
|
10065284
|
How are you today JFK
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Heathers (1988)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by orphan_account",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00",
"words": "1,492",
"Additional Tags": "Post-Canon, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Diary/Journal",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": "Veronica Sawyer",
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
She noticed her black, sleek cat sitting on her bed just before she slipped into her room. “God, you wouldn’t believe the day I had.”Veronica dropped her school bag just inside her door and shut it, glad that her cat was in her room for once. She wasn’t generally one to keep pets captive, but he had come in on his own, and like hell she was about to leave the door open. With how rarely she kept her room open during the day, JFK rarely meandered in, but on the rare occasions he did, she loved his company.Diaries absolutely have their powers and charms—and far be it from Veronica Sawyer to deny that much, with how many full journals she’d stacked over the years—but sometimes, talking to a real, living creature made a massive difference in how she was feeling. Something about a response, or at least one she could pretend was there. Blank pages had plenty to absorb, not much in the way of feedback, and a feel like nobody could possibly notice. Cats, on the other hand, she could at least pretend were really listening.If JFK got up and started making motions or noises at the door, she’d let him out, she told herself. …That was if she stayed awake and not crying, she corrected, so as to not make herself out to be an inevitable liar.Veronica had flopped onto her bed just the same as she had the day before, curling up into something of a ball, only bothering to take her shoes off at the door when she came in, nothing else. What a fucking day.A hell of a way to go out, she thought. With a bang? With someone watching him, waiting for it? With a girl three years his junior standing on the steps, blinking back tears she’s unsure he saw, putting on a brave face in the face of her psychotic ex-boyfriend’s impending dramatic death?What a fucking day.“Don’t ever date, JFK,” she grumbled while pulling her legs further into her chest. “Don’t ever even talk to anyone.” The cat, reading her mood, walked up with caution and no intent to receive affection. He simply laid down within her reach after kneading her bedsheets for a moment.Watching the motion made her feel a little better, at least. And making eye contact was kind of nice, too, once she thought about it.“You’re never seeing that guy again, little pal. You or I, never saying another word to him.” JFK’s ear twitched. Veronica could pretend that was a sign of comprehension, sure. Why not. “God, and everyone just feels so fucking bad for me, don’t they? Oh, he committed suicide, so did your friend, you poor thing.” She stared at the feline for a moment, hoping to see a reflection of something she knew she couldn’t find, and groaned before rolling onto her back and splaying her arms and legs out. JFK didn’t even flinch at the impact of her arm just above him.“I didn’t want him dead. I didn’t want any of them dead. Did you ever meet Kurt or Ram? Assholes, both of them, but god… I didn’t want to kill anyone.” She pressed her head back into the pillow and looked at the ceiling. “Or who the fuck knows, maybe I did. It’s not a crime to want people gone. Guess nobody leaves without force, though, huh?”She felt pathetic. Vile, disgusting, ready to curl into herself until her clothes consumed her and she could be gone the way she’d wished Kurt and Ram could have been, or the way she wanted Heather to be, making a nice and weak little black hole in the middle of her bedsheets that nobody would have to worry about. Maybe they could melt it down for fuel, the little void mass she’d be. Sell it to some collector. As long as it didn’t have her consciousness, Heather could play croquet with it, for all she cared.Hell, maybe if it did, she’d have fun getting plonked around.She turned her head to look back to the cat, now laying listlessly on his side. “Do you think a therapist would tell the police about something like that?” Rolling her eyes at herself, she groaned. “God, I’d have to lie to a therapist, wouldn’t I. Say it was all fucking JD, that I didn’t do a damn thing but watch and feel scared like a weak, spineless dumbass.”Veronica reached out a hand to scratch at JFK’s neck, sighing. “Don’t let me miss this guy too much when I wake up, will you?” He purred in response. “Yeah, you’re right, nothing you can do.” And she spent a short while like that, gently rubbing at JFK’s silky fur as she lay on her bed, tears falling from her eyes with no emotion behind them, not that anyone could see. She scoffed at her own internal monologue, droning on about how she must look, crying with a blank face, tears catching dust and soot and the blood of her dead boyfriend as she pet a cat.Definitely looked crazy. Definitely the kind of thing she should be seeing a therapist about.Veronica wondered, briefly, if she’d ever be able to listen to fireworks without being reminded of him. She promptly chastised herself for thinking it at all. “Great, now I’ll always think of thinking about it. And it’ll be my own damn fault. God, I’m not even making enough sense for you to follow if you were listening, am I?”JFK’s purring continued. She felt sick to her stomach, and acutely aware that she wasn’t tired. Not wanting to leave JFK alone on her bed, she spent a few more minutes stroking the full length of his body before sitting up and walking to her desk.Veronica decided to forgo putting on her monocle. She wrote fine in school without it, and it was her own writing and her own journal anyway. Why the fuck did she even have it? For times she didn’t feel like lethargic shit, she reminded herself. She penned what she had expected to be the shortest entry of the month, but ended up rambling for much longer than she anticipated.
Dear Diary,
I don’t know, I just want to think that this could have gone at least a little better. Four people are dead, and I miss a grand total of one and a half of them. Here’s to me in the future guessing who makes up the pieces.
I should probably say what the pieces are, for my own reference and maybe piece of mind, but I don’t feel like giving a shit.
I was going to actually write serious feelings or something, but I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. But since I’m the one writing, I guess it’s my job to make the attempt, isn’t it?
I know I’m going to miss JD. Talk about stereotypical teenage crap, seriously, but I know I’m going to miss him. I think he thought he was a pretty good person. He was a nice boyfriend, at least, not that I’m much of a reliable source at this point.
Shooting at him was not my number one option, but blowing up the school was even lower on the list. Good for me, I have a set of morals or something.
People think I’m something I’m not. Like I’m this nice replacement for Heather, a nice sweet leader who cares about everyone and thinks we should all get along. All I want is for people to not be such massive dicks, does that really make me a goddamn queen? Not to mention that idolizing a group of assholes is what got us all here in the first place.
I mean, I guess JD and I deciding we were better than everyone is what got us here in the first place.
Aren’t we, though? Or weren’t we, I guess? Maybe he wasn’t. He killed people. And who am I kidding, I killed people. I hope the police don’t decide I’m worth searching, because this would be incriminating as hell. I should probably build some kind of lock into this one, I guess.
I’m sure it doesn’t fucking matter. Having a lock would probably make it more likely to be searched.God, am I worrying about lying to the police again? Jesus.Wonder if JD ruined me or if I was just always like this. Just like this, but no reason to act like it. Probably not JD’s fault I’m a fucking asshole.Definitely not JD’s fault.Whatever. I think I need a nap, whether or not I can actually manage to take one.
Goodnight.
She shut her journal, tossed it across the room for good measure, and slammed her head down on her desk, willfully ignoring the disproportionate amount of crashes that followed her toss.
|
10061012
|
Like I Need You
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Dan Howell, Phil Lester",
"Fandom": "Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by notreallythatuseful (orphan_account)",
"chapters": "4/4",
"completed": "2017-03-17",
"published": "2017-03-03T00:00:00",
"words": "14,874",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff, Eventual Smut, Why is Phil's mother an available character, I swear if i find an explicit fanfic with her i will jump into the sun, Established Relationship, Making Out, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Sort Of, idk - Freeform, Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Anal Sex",
"Relationship": "Dan Howell/Phil Lester",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "How About Forever",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“You know you can trust me, right?” Phil says, and Dan starts. They’re lying in bed, sunlight creeping to the precipice of afternoon through the window. His head is tucked against Phil’s chest, so that when Phil speaks he hears the rumble of it deep in his lungs.“What?” he says dumbly, craning his head upwards. “I mean. Yeah. Yes.” He’s aware he’s stuttering a bit, because trust isn’t exactly his forte, and of course there’s the part of him that tells him Phil will leave him, that things will go wrong. The pit of his stomach twists at the thought.“I know it’s hard for you,” Phil responds, looking down and letting their noses bump. “It’s okay that it’s a process, or… I mean, it’s okay if it takes a while.” His fingers, splayed in Dan’s hair, curl comfortingly against the strands.“That’s nice, Phil. I just guess… I don’t know.” It’s stupid, really, and Dan still feels silly after these talks, like he’s been too vulnerable or dramatic.“What?” Phil prompts, and one of his hands drifts down to Dan’s ribcage, fingers poised menacingly. “Tell me, or I’ll do it. I swear.” A quick grin flits across his face.“If you tickle me, I’ll bite your hand off,” Dan warns, and then lets out a decidedly unmanly shriek when Phil tickles him anyways. “Hey, hey! Oh god,” he wheezes, squirming until he gets a hold of Phil’s wrists. He’s laughing now, and suddenly he remembers Phil’s been dealing with this for years, prompting him out of the corners he’s backed himself into, patient and smiling and Phil. He feels his face grow serious as he looks into Phil’s eyes and remembers how magnificently lucky he is. “I’m not very easy to love,” he confesses quietly, almost so much that Phil can’t hear it, but he knows that he did when Phil’s face falls.“You are the easiest person to love that I have ever met,” Phil says solemnly, and Dan flushes, fighting off a reflexive eye roll at the intimacy of the sentence. “I always want to love you.” His hands have fallen to rest and instead bracket Dan’s ribs. The warmth across Dan’s cheekbones rolls to consume his whole being.“Me too,” he says. Phil places a careful kiss on his forehead. Dan lets himself take in the moment for a second, breathes in the scent of Phil so close to him, and then squirms out of Phil’s grip. “Breakfast,” he announces. “Or… brunch. I don’t know anymore.”“Yeah, it’s late,” Phil agrees, rubbing a hand across his eyes and standing. He slides his glasses onto his face, blinking owlishly at Dan when his eyes finally adjust. He looks so at home in Dan’s room, bright pajamas against the dark backdrop of their rumpled bedsheets, and Dan feels so remarkably safe he can’t help but smile. “What?” Phil says, eyes widening and a crooked grin splitting his face. “Is it the quiff?” He rumples his hair, only succeeding in making it messier. Dan runs his hand through it to smooth it down across Phil’s forehead.“No,” Dan murmurs, not wanting to break the golden hush of sunlight and quiet that’s fallen across his room. “I just like you.”“I like you,” Phil answers automatically, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Now brunch,” he says, and Dan doesn’t miss the way that he trails a hand over the small of his back as he passes him. He shakes his head, admittedly still a little stunned that any of this is real, and then follows, the same stupid grin still plastered to his face.“By the way,” Phil mumbles through a mouthful of cereal when Dan reaches the kitchen, “We should go out again soon. And date two is on you.” His eyebrows shoot up as he adds, “That rhymed! Two? You? I did it on purpose.”“Yeah, right,” Dan scoffs, swiping the Lactaid from Phil’s hand. “Oh God, that’s so much pressure, though. I don’t fucking know where people go on dates.” Phil shrugs.“I don’t know,” he says, face lighting up mischievously. “Guess you’ll have to figure it out.” Chuckling at Dan’s annoyed noise, he pours himself a cup of coffee before he wanders into the hallway. “I call choosing the anime,” he adds.“I hate you,” Dan whines in response, scooping up his cereal and shuffling into the lounge. When he gets there, he crowds obnoxiously into Phil’s space, leaning close to Phil’s ear and chewing loudly on his cereal until Phil shrieks and bats him away.“Stop it, you spoon,” Phil protests, and when Dan refuses to move his face he retaliates by kissing him swiftly on the nose. Dan rolls his eyes and sinks back against the sofa, ignoring the flush in his face in favor of pretending to watch the screen. Really, though, he watches the movements of Phil’s breath, the soft way his shoulders move when he laughs, the subconscious way his fingers flit to his hair to push it back into place. Surely, he thinks, he could watch him forever. He slides closer to let his shoulder bump up against Phil’s, drops his head into the crook of his neck. He could sit like this forever, feel like this forever. And for the first time since he can remember, forever doesn’t sound so scary.***“Is a movie a date?” Dan calls across the hall later that day. He’s being somewhat productive today, though he’s still curled up in bed in his pajamas. Now, though, he’s planning out his next video, making him feel at least a little bit better about his life.“Sure,” Phil answers, and then Dan hears the unmistakable clatter of Phil inevitably knocking something over with a soft swear before he makes his way to stand in Dan’s doorway. “What made you choose a movie? Anything good playing?”Dan shrugs. “Haven’t checked, honestly. I just thought it would be nice.”Phil rolls his eyes, a mischievous glint flickering across his features. “I’m onto you, Howell. I’ve sat in the back row before. I know how it is.” Dan lets out a dramatically affronted gasp.“I would never,” he protests, though he’s already blushing, because he can’t kid himself, the thought of making out with Phil in the back row of the cinema is one that has crossed his mind on more than one occasion, and maybe he has a little bit of an exhibitionist streak, but that’s not important. He catches Phil’s eyes and flushes deeper. He’s fucked; Phil definitely knows. He holds Phil’s gaze for as long as Phil will allow it, and he can’t help it if his mind wanders to Phil leaning over the armrest, tilting his head back with a long-fingered hand on his throat, the way Phil’s hand would slide down the inside of his thighs. He’s just getting around to those soft serious noises he’s learned Phil makes when he’s really getting into it when Phil breaks his trance.“Want me to look up movie times?” he prompts, and Dan tries his best nonchalant shrug.“I’ll do it. I don’t mind. Okay if we do something scary?” He knows Phil likes scary movies, but he also knows a cinema showing a mediocre horror movie at six in the evening will likely be deserted, and so what if maybe the majority of his plan was centered around making out with Phil’s stupidly attractive face. So what.“All right,” Phil says, rocking back onto his heels excitedly. “Make it really scary. I’m feeling scary right now.”“Will do,” Dan says, closing down the plans for his video and opening up his browser. “Six o’clock alright?”“Yeah,” Phil agrees. “Can’t wait.” And maybe, just maybe, Dan thinks, there’s something hot in the depths of Phil’s stare as he looks at him for a drawn-out second and then turns to go back to his room. Jesus Christ, Dan thinks, and wonders for about the millionth time if he’s dreaming.He’s still not entirely convinced he’s not as he continues about his day, Phil filtering in and out of his room as time passes and even bringing him pizza when lunchtime rolls around. That turns into Phil sitting at the foot of the bed for nearly an hour talking with Dan, plucking absent-mindedly at the sheets, which leads to Dan leaning forward and kissing Phil, which becomes Phil letting out a surprised mmph and then drawing Dan’s lip between his teeth, which ultimately ends with long lazy minutes of Dan on his back and Phil leaned over him on his elbows kissing him gentle and slow. Dan doesn’t know quite how much time passes like that, or the exact details of when his hand moved under Phil’s shirt to rest on his chest, and he most certainly doesn’t know when Phil decided to slide his fingertips just barely under Dan’s waistband to press against his ass. Finally, though, Phil’s hand flexes and clenches at Dan’s ass, and Dan’s hips push into the air while he lets a broken moan escape him, and he gasps, “Okay, okay.”Phil pulls back, their lips making a slick noise when they part. For a moment, Dan is dizzy with how close he is to Phil’s eyes, how he can feel his breath mixing with his, and then he explains, “Shower,” which has become their code word for I have to go jerk off right now or else I might actually die, and Phil nods and lets him slide out from under him. Dan can feel Phil’s eyes burning against the back of his head as he leaves, and he barely makes it to the bathroom before he’s palming himself with a barely-controlled groan. He turns on the shower to mask the sounds of the breathy noises he makes when he quickly strips and wraps a hand around his dick, his mouth falling open when he strokes himself once, twice, and then clambers into the shower. There’s nothing graceful in the way he spreads his legs and fucks up into his fist, his head rested against his forearm on the shower wall and his cock flushed red where it pushes through the circle of his fist, but it feels so fucking good he’s barely able to keep his eyes open.“Oh,” he says softly, his hand moving impossibly faster, because he knows, he fucking knows, that Phil is upstairs doing the same, and he thinks about the long pale expanse of Phil’s bare body, his hips thrusting up into his hand, his dark black hair splayed out in a halo around his face. He bets Phil is fucking big, and thick too, and his thumb runs over his slit as he thinks about how heavy Phil would be in his mouth, and he’s gasping now, his stomach clenching and unclenching. He thinks about tracing down Phil's body with tongue and teeth, about taking him into his mouth and the soft salty way he would taste. Briefly, he slides his hand down to cup his balls, and his spine arches when he pushes a finger back further to trace his rim. But he's far too gone to tease himself properly, his hips still rutting forward and his dick leaving faint trails of precum where he's begun to rub against the shower wall. So he brings his hand back up to jerk himself, sliding his hand up and down rapidly before he thinks about Phil’s fingers in his hair and his cock nudging the back of his throat, and he imagines looking up into Phil’s eyes before he’s coming, his hips twitching forward forcefully and his dick pulsing in his hand. He holds his free hand over his mouth as he rides out his orgasm, soft desperate moans still high enough to reach his ears even from behind his hand. For a long time after he’s finished, he stays there, letting his heart rate fall. After a few minutes, he raises his hand to the stream of the shower, grimacing as the drying come washes off of his fingers and palm and down into the drain. He stays there for a long while afterwards, washing his hair and his body and maybe basking in the afterglow of his orgasm a little bit, because it’s not like he hasn’t thought about Phil before when he’s doing this, but now it’s different, because Phil is his and he’s Phil’s, and fuck that’s a good thought. He thinks he could get used to it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
When Dan goes back upstairs, Phil is in his own room, about as suspiciously flushed as he would have suspected. A thrill runs through Dan at the confirmation that he turned Phil on, that Phil wants him like that. He shoots a grin in Phil’s direction, aware of the fact that he’s half-naked in front of him, before he heads into his room, maybe swinging his hips a little more than usual.Once he’s dressed, he comes back out and hovers in Phil’s doorway, knocking on the doorframe although he’s watched Phil’s eyes follow him across the hall.“Want to grab dinner before the movie?” he asks. Nerves zip down his spine even though he knows Phil wouldn’t say no. Phil nods his head eagerly.“Yes, please – I’m starving,” he says, standing to begin what Dan knows is a quest to find socks, which always seem to be scattered everywhere until Phil actually needs to find them. He scoops one, patterned with sharks, off of his bookshelf, staring at it for a second as if trying to remember what possessed him to put it there, before slipping it on his foot and continuing his search. Dan rolls his eyes.“There’s one under your bed, dork,” he points out to Phil, and Phil leans down to snatch it up with an, “Aha!” He really is a dork, Dan thinks, and Jesus Christ is he happy to be standing here with this crazy chaotic human being. He leans against the doorway, a little starstruck as always, and watches Phil plop down on his bed and tie his shoelaces with surprisingly nimble fingers.“Ready?” he asks when Phil stands up again. A tuft of Phil’s hair on the back of his head is sticking up, and Dan reaches out to smooth it down when Phil approaches.“Yep,” Phil answers, and slips his hand into Dan’s. “Dinner and a movie. That’s about four out of ten points for originality, Danny.” Melting against Phil’s side, Dan scoffs.“Whatever.” Before he can overthink it, Dan adds, “I’m sure I can find some way to make up the points.” He pulls his most ridiculous mock-flirting face to hide the fact that okay, maybe he can definitely think of about a million ways he could make up the points, about one percent of which involve being clothed, and Phil snorts.“Seductive,” he teases, letting Dan walk ahead of him on the stairs down to the street. They can’t hold hands outside, of course, and they stop for just a second before opening the door.“I like you,” Phil reminds him, planting a kiss on his temple. Dan’s eyes close for a second before he opens them again, struggling for a beat not to act like a complete lovesick idiot.“I like you fine,” he says back, and then shrieks and hurries out of the door before Phil can grab him.***Dinner passes uneventfully, save for a group of fans who stop them on the way out. The two of them have always been better handling social situations like these as a team, Dan’s façade of confidence keeping their conversation afloat and Phil’s easygoing spirit rounding out Dan’s rough edges. The fans are nice, as they usually are, and after a few minutes of talking and pictures, they go their separate ways.“Yikes,” Dan says when they’re out of earshot. “I got so fucking paranoid that they knew.”“About us?” Phil prompts, and suddenly Dan realizes he’s verged into sensitive territory. He nods. They’re silent for a second. Phil pulls the fluffy hood of his coat up over his head, pushing his hands into his pockets.“Do you think we would ever tell them?” Phil asks finally, his voice sounding so goddamn nervous it physically pains Dan. He bumps his shoulder into Phil’s reassuringly.“If you wanted to,” he says, and surprises himself by actually meaning it. “I mean, not tonight or anything, but – someday. I think maybe someday I would want to. If… only if you did,” he finishes lamely, scrambling to emotionally withdraw himself from the conversation.“Of course I would,” Phil says easily. “We have lots of time to figure it out.” He turns his head to look at Dan, not able to see him in his periphery with that ridiculous hood around his face, and his cheeks are so flushed and his eyes so bright that Dan can’t help but grin.“Yeah,” he agrees, and then looks up at the theater. “Are you ready to get your face scared off?”Phil groans. “I regret this so much. I’m scared already.”Dan laughs and grabs his arm, pulling him into the rush of heat and noise of the cinema. “Come on, you big baby,” he says, and Phil follows him through the ticket line and into the theater without resisting.Just as Dan had hoped – and is now somewhat regretting as they stand in silence staring at the empty seats – the theater is empty. He shifts on his feet, waiting for Phil to make the move on where to sit. They make brief eye contact before Phil heads to the back row.“Back row,” Dan teases. “I see how it is.” His heartbeat picks up a little bit despite himself. Phil marches to the farthest corner, and Dan notes it’s masked to anyone not standing less than two rows in front of them by a banister.“You don’t know,” Phil argues lamely, “It could just be my favorite seat in the theater.” He’s a little flushed, and Dan grins.“Right,” he says, sitting down with the bucket of popcorn balanced precariously in his lap. As he sits, the advertisements and movie trailers come to life, sound flooding the room. The lights dim a bit. Dan’s admittedly a little nervous, because he has some pretty awkward middle school memories associated with the cinema, all the teenage angst over putting your arm around a girl’s shoulders or whether you kissed her goodnight, not to mention the high school sexual tension of back-row makeouts and handjobs underneath blankets. But of course, it’s easier than he thought, sitting here next to the same man he’s been next to for years now, and soon he’s settling against Phil’s shoulder, Phil slipping an arm around him. In no time, the movie’s beginning.He can’t give it much credit for creativity, but it sure as fuck has plenty of jump scares. An hour in, he’s full-on screamed at least five times, and Phil’s heartbeat is pounding rapidly against his ear where Dan has moved to rest against his chest. Dan’s just reaching for a handful of popcorn when yet another violin-accompanied scare bursts onto the screen. Dan jumps violently, knocking half the bucket of popcorn onto Phil’s lap in the process.“Dan!” Phil exclaims. “Put the goddamn popcorn on the floor,” he demands, eyes twinkling. He reaches out to grab the bucket.“Nooo,” Dan whines, pulling the bucket back. “I want to eat more.”“You’re making an actual mess, Dan,” Phil laughs. “Give it.” He pulls the bucket towards him.“No,” Dan protests, although he’s already eaten far too much. He pulls back.“Dan,” Phil says, and kisses him. Dan puts down the bucket. Phil laughs out loud against his lips.“Classic distraction tactic,” Phil mutters, and leans in to slot their mouths together. Dan moans, twisting so he can face Phil. For a few minutes, they stay that way, pressing gentle kisses to each other’s mouths, both of them jumping at a particularly loud noise onscreen and breaking apart to laugh. Then they’re back together again, and Phil’s tongue is working against Dan’s lower lip, and he opens up to it. Phil licks along Dan’s tongue, pulls back only to move in closer. Dan clutches at Phil’s upper arms where they rest against the arm rest. Phil is all he can feel, smell, taste, and he notes vaguely that he's reaching up his hand to tangle in the short strands of hair at the back of Phil's head to pull him closer. Phil tastes of popcorn and the leftover mintiness of mouthwash, and his hands are soft where they cradle Dan's face. He kisses Dan like it's all he wants to do, and Dan gives himself over to it, letting out high noises when Phil sucks on his tongue or bites his lips. He loses track of how long they stay like that, but suddenly the credits are rolling. Dan pulls back, eyelids heavy, and he feels fucking drugged on it, the taste of Phil making his lips tingle.“Fuck,” he breathes, and Phil laughs.“Can we go home?” Phil asks, and Dan grabs his hand and practically runs down the aisle.***They make it all the way back into their flat without touching each other, and as soon as they close the door Phil’s pushing him up against it and kissing him. This kiss is rougher, Phil lifting Dan's arms to hold them above his head and his mouth moving hot and insistent against Dan's. When he opens his mouth to Phil, their teeth clack together briefly. Dan feels Phil's short breaths hot against his tongue.“Oh fuck,” Dan says weakly as Phil works his way down to his neck. He sucks at the skin just beneath Dan’s jaw, his teeth nipping just on the right side of painful against the marks he’s leaving. Dan’s head hits the door with a dull thunk.“Phil, Phil, I want you so bad,” he rambles, because he can’t keep his damn mouth shut when he gets like this, and for a second he thinks Phil will pull away, but then Phil’s kissing him hard again on the mouth. Dan whimpers, his mouth falling open, and Phil’s tongue pushes in roughly. One of Phil’s hands remains on the door above Dan’s head, but the other is working its way up his body, ghosting over his nipples and stopping to rest against his collarbones just shy of his neck. Phil runs his thumb across the pulse in Dan’s throat, and Dan’s hips kick forward.He rubs up against Phil, and fuck Phi’s getting hard. Dan moans, tentatively rutting forwards. Phil pushes his body forward, rolls his hips so hard against Dan that Dan's back thumps against the door. He spreads his legs instinctively, letting Phil in so he can rut up against him, and Dan lets himself imagine how this would feel if it were just skin on skin. He practically fucking mewls.Finally, Phil moves backwards. “Sorry, sorry,” he says breathlessly.“For what?” Dan asks, and grabs both of Phil’s hands. He’s fucking crazy with want, but somehow he’s also okay with waiting, because they have one more date and then Phil is all his, and it’s going to be so fucking good.“I didn’t mean to – you’re really hot,” Phil stutters. Dan laughs. They fall into an easy silence, Dan's pulse still fluttering. “Dan?” Phil asks after a moment. “Can I tell you something?” Dan’s heart drops. Something’s going to go wrong.“Sure,” he manages, and Phil, God fucking bless him, hears it in his voice. He steps forward quickly.“No, no, everything’s fine,” he reassures him, and Dan breathes out a sigh of relief. “It’s just – Dan, I should have told you this earlier. I – ugh.” He shakes his head, scrunching up his face in frustration. “I’ve never – I’veneverbeenwithaboy.” He says it all at once, his mouth snapping shut as soon as his confession is out, and Dan raises his eyebrows.“Really?” It’s not like it’s that big of a deal. It’s kind of hot, if he’s completely honest with himself. “Have you – I mean, have you been with a girl?” Phil huffs out a laugh.“Yeah. Even then, though, I – sex has never been so great for me. I just have never had, like, an amazing time, you know?” He won’t look Dan in the eyes, like this is some sort of dealbreaker, and Dan steps into his space.“That’s ok, Phil,” he says softly, threading his fingers through Phil’s. A rush of want hits the pit of his stomach before he adds, “I can make it good for you. It’s going to be good, Phil.” Phil looks up, wide-eyed.“You don’t mind?” he asks. Dan shakes his head.“It’s kind of hot,” he confesses. “If you still want to, I mean.” Phil moves even closer, pushing his arms around Dan’s hips.“Dan. I really want to.” Dan laughs dizzily, leaning up to press a long kiss to Phil’s lips.“Me too. Now that’s out, can we please make out more? Please, for the love of God.” He and Phil both laugh, Phil pulling him tight against his body, and Dan somehow loves him even more than he wants him, and as Phil pulls him down the hallway, he realizes maybe this is the first time that’s happened. He doesn’t mind it one bit.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“And what’s the moral of this video, Phil?” Dan asks, his sides sore from laughter.“Dragons are not our friends,” Phil says emphatically, leaning forward with comically wide eyes. “Keep your eyes peeled, guys.” “That probably won’t be a problem, but. Yeah,” Dan adds, rolling his eyes.“Goooodbye!” Phil says, leaning forward to turn off the camera. Dan leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. As they often did, they had chosen a game that was a little more intense than either of them had expected, and his eyes ache from staring at the screen for so long. It’s likely to be a good video, though. He feels a small smile lift the corners of his mouth. Suddenly, Phil’s hand is carding through his hair. He opens his eyes.“That was good, wasn’t it?” Dan says, proud of himself for not stumbling over his words, because Jesus Christ is Phil close.“Mm,” Phil hums, and Dan thinks it’s affirmative but doesn’t have the time to ask before Phil’s lips are pressing against his. Dan melts into it instantly, not able to hold back a small noise when Phil tilts his head to fit their mouths together even more closely. He can’t fucking believe how long they could have been doing this, and he can’t quite remember why they weren’t as their mouths open in synchronicity and Phil’s tongue slides against his own. The armrest is pressed against Dan’s side where he’s practically crawling out of the seat to get closer to Phil, but he doesn’t really care. His hands come up to rest flat against Phil’s chest, feel his heartbeat speed up as he moans lightly and lets his mouth fall open even more to Phil’s kiss. Finally, Dan pulls back, smirking when Phil leans forward to follow him. He lets Phil’s lip slide from between his teeth.“What was that for?” Dan asks, his hands still on Phil’s chest. Phil shrugs.“I just wanted to,” he says, smiling brightly. He toys with a strand of Dan’s hair for a second before he asks, “Can I make dinner here for our third date?”“Yeah,” Dan answers immediately, barely hearing his own voice over the sudden roar of nerves in his ears. Of course, he still worries that he won’t be good enough for Phil, that he’ll mess something up, but knowing Phil, he imagines Phil feels much the same. He looks up into Phil’s eyes, sure that he sees a tinge of nervousness there too.“Spaghetti okay?” Phil asks, and Dan nods. After a moment’s hesitation, Phil adds, “Dan, we don’t have to – nothing has to happen if you’re not ready.” It’s so like him, looking out for Dan although he’s the one who has more to worry about; this is uncharted territory for him. Dan slides his hands down Phil’s chest to take his hands in his.“I am,” he tells him honestly. “Like, the fucked-up part of my brain is used to me feeling like I’m being… used or whatever, but I know. I know you’re not.” He can’t look at Phil when he says it, because what if he is, what if he was wrong all along, but of course Phil kisses his forehead gently and nods.“Are you ready?” Dan asks. Phil takes a deep breath.“I… yes. I’m just kind of nervous,” he admits. “I’ve just liked guys for a long time, and been too nervous to do anything, and… and, you know, liked you for a long time and been too nervous about that too.” He’s staring intently at his feet, and Dan kisses him on the forehead in a mirror of his actions.“We’ll only do what you’re ready for,” he mutters against Phil’s skin, and Phil reaches out to wrap an arm around his back.“I love you,” Phil says softly, and Dan’s hit with a rush of affection so strong he feels it throughout his whole being. He lifts Phil’s face to kiss him on the lips.“I love you too,” he whispers, and Phil tucks his head into the crook of his neck, letting Dan hold him. Dan’s not sure how long they stay there, but he doesn’t much care. He could stay like this forever.***It’s four days later that they finally find the time to stay in for dinner. Dan’s sat in bed with his laptop when he smells the sauce cooking, and his head snaps up.“Phil?” he calls out, and Phil shouts unintelligibly in response. “Are we doing dinner tonight?” There’s silence, then the scuff of feet on the floor as Phil comes to stand in his door. He’s wearing his ridiculous apron, the one that makes his look like he’s shirtless, and Dan can’t help but snort.“I thought we would, if that was okay,” Phil says, his voice a little shy. There’s a streak of tomato paste on his forehead, and his skin is a bit flushed from the steam.“You have tomatoes on your forehead,” Dan says dryly, laughing as Phil scrambles to wipe his face. “Yeah, that’s… that sounds good.” Phil grins at him, his gaze lingering for a second before he heads back to the kitchen. As soon as he’s gone, Dan all but leaps to his feet and goes downstairs to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh change of clothes and a towel on his way.“I’m showering,” he yells up the stairs, wincing at how obvious that sounds, but of course he’s washing up. Just in case. He lets the water get as hot as he can take it, the mirror already beginning to fog, and then steps in, lathering up his hair and letting the water run down his shoulderblades. God, he’s nervous, not about the sex part as much as the Phil part. Sex he can do. Not fucking things up with the most important person in his life? He’s not so sure. He shudders and ducks his head under the water as if it can drown out his racing thoughts.After a while, he picks up his body wash, working it down his body until he’s covered in faint suds. He steps under the stream until his skin is clear, then back out again. Now to make absolutely sure he’s clean. He takes a steadying breath and slips one finger inside of himself.“Ah,” he lets out, more muscle memory than anything, but he has to admit it doesn’t feel bad, and he crooks a finger to push at his walls where he knows his prostate is. He pushes down on his finger instinctively, letting his hips roll for a second before he remembers why he’s up there in the first place and moves his finger around to make sure he’s clean. He is, but he can’t quite bring himself to take his finger out of himself yet. Instead, he adds another one.This time, he winces; two fingers without lube is pushing it, but it’s manageable if he relaxes enough. Besides, he’s imagining now that it’s Phil pushing his fingers inside of him, pictures him crowded up behind him with one arm around his waist and the other two fingers deep in his ass, and he whimpers. He’d almost forgotten how much he fucking loves the fullness of it. His other hand moves down to his cock and starts to slowly pump and he thrusts his fingers, trying to imagine the press of Phil against his back, the way his cock would feel rutting hot against his body. He bites his lip to keep back his sounds. Fuck, he’s going to come fast, thinking about Phil like that, especially because that could be a reality, tonight. His toes curl against the shower floor, and the first waves of pleasure clench his stomach as he approaches his orgasm --“Dan,” Phil calls from upstairs, and Dan’s eyes snap open. “Dinner’s ready.”“Fuck,” Dan mutters, and there’s no way he’s coming now with the sudden wave of nerves in his gut. He twists the knob of the shower until the water is almost unbearably cold, then inhales sharply and steps underneath it. Under a combination of nerves and the cold water, his hard-on dies pretty quickly, leaving Dan shivering and more than a little distressed. He steps out of the shower and towels off, changing quickly into the fresh clothes he brought with him. Briefly, he catches his own gaze in the mirror – the Hobbit hair is rampant, God damn it – and then he turns on his heel and starts up the stairs.“It smells amazing,” he says when he reaches the kitchen, because it really does. Phil’s already placed out two plates heaped with spaghetti on the counter, and he looks up from pouring two glasses of wine when Dan walks in.“Thanks,” Phil says, holding Dan’s glass and plate out to him. “You look good. I like your hair like that.”“Ugh,” Dan answers, taking them and walking to the dining room table with Phil on his heels. “Thanks. I hate it.”“I know,” Phil says, smiling as he sits down. “I wish you didn’t.” Dan shrugs, self-conscious under Phil’s piercing gaze. He picks up his fork and quickly changes the subject.“You really outdid yourself, Philly. Who knew you could cook?”“Shut up,” Phil laughs, and then looks up with a start. “Oh, I forgot!” He bustles out of the room, leaving Dan to stare in his wake before he returns with two candles and a lighter.“Are you serious?” Dan asks teasingly, and Phil blushes but sets the candles down on the table.“If we didn’t have candles, it would just be normal dinner,” he points out, lighting them and setting the lighter beside his plate. “There. Now it’s a date.”Dan scoffs and kicks Phil’s foot gently under the table. “You’re a nerd.”Phil points his spaghetti-laden fork at him menacingly. “Shut up and enjoy your spaghetti, Howell,” he says, eyes narrowed and a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.“Yes sir,” Dan answers, saluting him with his fork and forgetting that there’s spaghetti on it, smacking himself in the forehead with tomato sauce. The two of them break out laughing, and Dan remembers that this is easy, that he won’t fuck up, because this is his best friend. Everything will be okay. He couldn’t be any luckier.Soon, they’ve both finished their dinner, and the light outside has died to darkness. The candles on the table are throwing Phil’s face into soft buttery shadows.“That was so good,” Dan says, setting down his fork. “Thanks, Phil.”“Yeah,” Phil says. He stands with a groan. “I’ll get the dishes.” Dan watches him leave, suddenly so in tune to the minute shifting of his body, and he stands as if in a trance to follow Phil.“You don’t have to help, I’ll get it,” Phil says when he turns to find Dan in the kitchen. “You can – mmph,” he cuts off when Dan kisses him, hard.“Let’s leave the dishes,” Dan says lowly, licking at the juncture of Phil’s neck and jaw. Maybe it’s the wine, but he thinks maybe he just really fucking wants Phil. “Can we, Phil? I want you so bad, oh my God.” He’s dizzy with the fact that they’re doing this now, and his eyes flutter shut when Phil drags his mouth up to his and kisses him back.“Yeah,” Phil breathes, and Dan grins, his heart leaping into his throat.“My room?” he asks, Phil already herding him backwards. He trusts him, knows he won’t let him get hurt or fall, and he keeps backing up, his eyes still locked on Phil’s.“Okay,” Phil agrees. They make it to the main hallway before Phil stops them dip Dan’s head back and kiss him deeply, licking immediately into his mouth. Dan’s hands scrabble to curl in the back of Phil’s shirt. By the time they make it to Dan’s room, they’re both breathing heavily. Phil kisses Dan sloppily, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him flush against his body, and Dan needs him so bad.“Phil, please,” Dan whimpers, and the look in Phil’s eyes when he pulls back sends a full-body shiver through Dan. He lets Phil walk him backwards with steady hands against his hipbones, lets him bite hot-mouthed kisses into his neck. “Please, please,” he repeats mindlessly, his head lolling back and his hands pushing at the hem of Phil’s shirt. Phil looks up, eyes heavy-lidded.“Can I touch you?” he whispers, and Dan falls back onto the bed.“Please.”Phil crawls over him, and the sight is too much for Dan. He throws his head back against the pillows, moaning shamelessly. “Fuck, Phil, Phil.”“I know,” Phil promises, and leans down to seal their mouths together. He settles onto his elbows above Dan, his lips working hot and greedy over Dan’s mouth. Their chests are pressed together, and Dan can feel Phil’s heart beating frantically against his skin. Dan wants to rut up against him, and with anyone else he would likely have a hand down their pants by now, but he knows Phil’s nervous, and so he lets his hips twitch restlessly where he keeps them pressed flat against the bed.Suddenly Phil’s dropping his hips down, rolling them tentatively against Dan’s, and Dan muffles his gasp against Phil’s mouth. His legs fall open, and Phil pushes smoothly between them, grinding mercilessly against Dan. Dan hooks his ankles over Phil’s back, desperate for more friction. He’s hard, and so is Phil. They both pant open-mouthed against each other when their cocks rub against each other.“Mm, fuck. Fuck,” Dan slurs when he finally brings himself to break his mouth away from Phil’s. “How do you want it? We don’t have to – oh, oh Phil – we don’t have to go any farther if you don’t want.” Phil hasn’t hesitated in the slow roll of his hips, and Dan rocks up into it. He really could come like this, easily, but Phil seems to have other ideas.“Can we--” Phil starts, then drops his head against Dan’s shoulder, laughing anxiously. “Can we get undressed?” Dan’s brain may possibly melt at that, just a little bit.“Fuck yes,” he says, and since they’re about to be naked he figures now’s as good a time as any to drop his hand down and palm Phil through his pants, massaging the outline of him through the fabric. Phil hisses and thrusts against Dan’s palm.“Is that good? That’s so hot, Phil,” Dan says close to Phil’s ear, and fuck is Phil about to find out how much of a talker Dan is, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He moans at Dan’s words, nodding dazedly.“’S’good,” Phil murmurs, and then pulls back and rocks up to sit on his heels and peel off his shirt. Dan’s seen him shirtless before, of course, but never like this, kneeling above him with the moonlight glowing silver against his skin. He’s absolutely breathtaking. Dan runs a hand through his hair nervously and then arches up enough to bring his own shirt off.“Are you still nervous?” Dan asks, reaching down to cup his own cock where it’s hardening rapidly.“Yeah, a little,” Phil admits. “You?”“A little,” Dan says, laying back down and unbuttoning his jeans. Phil’s eyes widen. “Are you nervous about me seeing you naked?” Phil only nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Dan grins. “Only one way to get over that,” he says, and then summons up all of his courage and wrestles his jeans and boxers off of his body.When he’s finished, he lays back out against the bed, sprawling out beneath Phil’s hungry gaze despite the nervous tremor that runs through his body. For a few seconds, Phil is quiet. Then he says, “Dan,” so softly Dan almost can’t hear it, and leans forward to kiss him again, dipping his hand down to brush hesitantly against the heated skin of Dan’s cock.“Oh,” Dan hums, and spreads his legs. Phil’s fingers dance along the length of him uncertainly, and Dan kisses him back as he waits for him to be ready. Suddenly, Phil’s wrapping his fingers around Dan’s cock. Dan bucks up into Phil’s fist. “Phil. Phil, that’s so good, please,” he whines, and his fingers move instinctively to Phil’s button. He looks up at Phil, who nods. With the feeling of Phil’s hands on his bare skin, it takes Dan an embarrassingly long time to get Phil’s jeans unbuttoned and unzipped. When he finally does, he pushes his hand into Phil’s pants, sliding his hand over Phil’s cock over his boxers. Phil groans, pumping Dan’s cock harder. “Can I?” Dan asks, fingers at the top of Phil’s underwear. Phil nods quickly, his eyes scrunching shut when Dan touches him. Phil’s hard and heavy in his hand, and Dan jerks him experimentally. Phil catches his lips in his own desperately, biting down enough to make Dan whimper.“Wait,” Phil whispers, and moves back with a rustle of fabric to shimmy out of his pants and underwear. When he moves back to rest on top of Dan, he’s completely naked, and Dan thinks hazily that next time he’ll drink it all in better, look at and touch and taste every inch of Phil, but right now their bare cocks are brushing up against one another, and Dan’s leg jerks as pleasure shocks his whole body. “Phil, Phil,” he pants, curling his fingers in Phil’s hair. “Can we come like this?”“Yes, fuck,” Phil answers, and the sound of him swearing somehow turns Dan on even more. He brings one hand down to Phil’s ass to push him closer, brings the other down to wrap around both of their cocks and bring them together. Phil whines.“You feel so good, Phil,” Dan pants, letting out a loud moan when Phil drops his head to Dan’s shoulder and starts thrusting against him in earnest. “I’ve thought about this so much. Please, please, oh my god.” He’s been with people who have been annoyed by his talking, but judging from his noises, Phil doesn’t seem to mind at all. He looks up at Dan with lust-filled eyes.“What did you think about?” Phil gets out, his arms snaking down to hook under Dan’s and then coming up to wrap around his shoulders so he can pull him down into his thrusts. Dan’s eyes roll back.“Ah – ah,” he stutters, hardly able to speak. Phil’s thrusts are jostling his whole body, their balls knocking together and the heads of their cocks rubbing alongside one another. “Thought about – fuck, Phil – about you touching me like this. Fucking me, filling me up.” His voice has gone higher, desperate and pleading. Phil nips at his neck, and Dan squeezes gently around their cocks.“I’ve thought about fucking you,” Phil says low and breathless in his ear, and Dan’s whole body arches. “How do you want me to fuck you, Dan?” Dan’s breath is coming harder than ever, his hips jolting upwards and his chest heaving.“I –“ he breaks off, almost too embarrassed to say it, and then one of Phil’s hands moves down to trace a finger around his rim, and he all but screams. “Oh Phil, Phil, please, keep doing that,” he pleads, and then manages, “I think about … about you fucking me hard, holding me down. I think about you stretching me out, fucking me in every room of the house. I just want you,” he breathes, and then sighs when Phil’s thumb comes up to knead at the skin beneath his balls. “Fuck, Phil, are you sure you haven’t done this before?”“I’m sure,” Phil says. “That’s so hot, Dan. I want to – I want to – I’m close,” he gasps, and Dan clutches his head where it’s fallen to rest against Dan’s collarbone.“Me too, Phil, you feel so good,” he rambles, and now that he’s close he can hardly even hear what he’s saying. Pleasure is starting to boil low in his stomach, and his lips brush up against Phil’s ear as he whispers low and filthy. “Yeah, come on, like you’re fucking me, Phil, do it hard.” He tightens his grip on their cocks, his hips starting to jerk faster. “Come on, please, please, fuck me, come on, I want you to come on me, please.” His hand leaves Phil's ass to slip down between his own legs and press against Phil's fingers where they rest against his rim. "Phil, Phil, I want your fingers inside me, I want your cock, I want you to fill me up. Come on, Phil, yeah, imagine you're in me." Making sure Phil can feel the movement of his fingers, he pushes a single one inside himself, moaning brokenly. "Fuck me, Phil, come on, please come on me," he whines. Phil groans, his hands clenching down – one on Dan’s shoulder, one in the flesh of his thigh – and he drives his hips upwards one last time. Dan feels Phi’s cock pulsing in his hand before warmth pools across the skin of his stomach. I made Phil come, he thinks, and that’s it. He bites down on his hand as he comes, hips thrusting weakly as he rides it out. He’s not sure how long they stay there, both of them breathing hard.Finally, Phil lifts his head. “Oh my God,” he says weakly, and Dan laughs. He flings an arm out to pick up his shirt, wiping off the both of them.“Yeah,” he says, pulling back the covers without getting off the bed. “Sleep?”“Mhm,” Phil agrees, and as soon as he lays down next to him, Dan tucks into his chest. “When we wake up, we should--” he breaks off, embarrassed, as if Dan hadn’t been jerking him off just seconds ago.Dan looks up sleepily. “Fuck again and again and forever?” he offers, and Phil lets out a snort of laughter.“Yeah,” he agrees, stroking Dan’s head gently. “Do you feel alright?”“So good,” Dan mumbles. “You?”“Me too,” Phil assures him. “I think we did the right thing. Waiting and everything.”“Me too,” Dan says, and kisses him before curling up against him, tucking his knees up to rest against Phil’s side. “I love you.”“I love you too,” Phil murmurs. Dan falls asleep smiling.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Dan wakes up with Phil sucking lightly on his neck. He groans, throwing his legs apart so Phil can move between them. Both of them are still naked.“Good – good morning,” he says, opening his eyes to look at Phil’s head moving just below his jawline and then closing them again. It’s too much, too fucking much, and he can’t believe this is something he gets to have every day. Phil hums in response, biting down lightly. Dan rolls his hips up. Phil’s hard already, and Dan’s getting harder by the second.“Do you want to shower?” he whispers against Phil’s hair. Come is still dried tight against his stomach, despite his attempts to clean it off last night. And maybe he wants to shower with Phil, maybe it’s been a fantasy of his for a while, but that’s neither here nor there. Phil nods and pulls off of his neck with a pop and a twinge of pleasure-pain. He looks steadily into Dan’s eyes.“Yeah,” he says, his hair spiked up into a quiff and then some, and he looks so fucking hot Dan just lets himself sit there for a second, staring breathlessly back at Phil.“I want you so bad,” Dan says, and lets his hand trail across the side of Phil’s face. Phil leans into it, face so vulnerable Dan feels a twinge in his chest. “Come on.”They make it out of bed after a while, Dan grumbling a little bit when his bare feet hit the cold floor but following Phil nonetheless. As soon as they’re both in the hallway, Phil steps close behind Dan, curling his arms around his waist.“What the fuck are you doing?” Dan laughs, trying embarrassingly hard not to seem affected by Phil’s breath hot against his neck.“I don’t want you to look at my arse,” Phil mumbles in his ear, and Dan lets out a shout of laughter.“This is really inconvenient, you know,” he says mildly at the same time that he places his hands over Phil’s on his stomach, letting him trail close behind him on the way down the steps. Their feet tangle occasionally, but somehow they make it to the bathroom without tripping.“God, I need to shower,” Dan complains, and breaks away to turn the faucet on. When he stands back up, Phil has moved close again, and when he wraps his arms around him this time, he slips his hand down to palm Dan’s cock. Dan’s head falls back onto Phil’s shoulder. “Fuck, you’re more confident today,” he murmurs, reaching an arm behind his head to reach Phil’s head and craning his neck so he can look him in the eyes. “Phil – that feels good.”“Yeah?” Phil asks, kissing Dan lightly on the lips before he steps away from him and into the shower. Dan practically whines, clambering in after him. As soon as they’re underneath the water, Dan wraps his arms around Phil’s neck, kissing him desperately. Phil kisses him back, pushing Dan up against the wall and holding his hips firmly when Dan squirms at the coldness against his back.“Are you okay?” he whispers, and Dan nods half-frantically, moaning when Phil steps into his space and kisses him again. They’re both fully hard now, their hips moving lazily against each other’s and their tongues pushing into each other’s mouths. Phil’s hand moves down, ghosting over Dan’s spine and leaving goosebumps in its wake, settling finally on Dan’s ass. He kneads the skin there gently, making Dan gasp against his mouth. “Dan,” Phil says after a few minutes, “Can I ask you something?”“Yes,” Dan answers, because Jesus Christ Phil is so hard and so fucking big against him, and all he can think about is Phil moving inside of him, his whole body rocking into it, and Phil could ask him anything right now and he would answer. Phil leans forward to plant his arms on either side of Dan’s head, and Dan takes in a sharp breath.“Will you teach me to blow you?” Phil asks, and Dan brings a hand up to cover his eyes.“Oh my God,” he says hoarsely. “Yes, fuck. Do you – do you want to?” Fuck, he wants it, but he also feels the nervous energy in Phil’s muscles, radiating off of his skin, and more than anything he wants Phil to be happy. But Phil is nodding, looking up at him through wet eyelashes, and that’s all Dan’s resolve can take. “Okay,” he whispers, and just like that Phil folds down onto his knees, looking up at him expectantly.“You promise you’ll tell me how to do it?” he asks, bringing a hand up to Dan’s cock, so tantalizingly close to his mouth. “It… it makes me feel better to know how to do things.” Dan nods, running a reverent hand through Phil’s hair.“You’re a nerd,” he grins, and of course Phil would want step-by-step instructions on how to suck him off, but he’s not complaining one bit. He moves his thumb across Phil’s cheekbone. “You tell me when you’re ready, yeah?” Phil nods, his free hand clenching and unclenching against his own thigh.“I – yeah, okay. I’m ready.”“You don’t have to be nervous,” Dan reminds him softly. “You stop when you want to, okay? Anything you do will be fucking amazing.” Phil smiles up at him in response, stray droplets from the shower against his shoulders splattering up to plaster his fringe against his forehead.“I want to. Tell me how?” Phil asks, and moves his hand smoothly up Dan’s cock and back down again. Dan bites his lip.“Okay – okay.” He closes his eyes briefly to clear his head, his brain ringing with Phil Phil Phil. “Put your mouth on – just on the top. And the rest, your hand can… oh, oh fuck,” he breaks off as Phil follows his orders. He watches Phil’s lips seal around the head of his cock, like he has in every single wet dream he’s had for almost the past fucking decade. Phil sucks, hard, without Dan even telling him to, and Dan clenches his jaw. “Phil, is this your first time?” he asks through gritted teeth, and Phil hums out, Mhm, with his lips still sealed around Dan. “Oh God, that’s – you’re really good,” he tells him, twisting his fingers gently through Phil’s hair. “You can go down more if you want, or you don’t have to. That’s so good, Phil, you’re so good just like this.” But of course Phil sinks down lower, taking in almost half his cock before he pulls back with a slight gagging noise. “That’s good, that’s okay,” Dan soothes, his head tilted back to the ceiling now. “It’s so good, you’ve done so well.” Phil bobs back down, this time lingering with the back of his throat fluttering around the head of Dan’s cock and his hand squeezing the rest of him. Dan lets out a near-shout. Phil moves up, then back down, setting up a steady rhythm, and fuck he must have learned this from porn or somewhere, because he definitely knows what he’s supposed to be doing. One of his hands comes up to massage Dan’s balls. Dan groans.“Hey,” he says after a while, and pulls Phil back up his body with a steadying hand on his elbow. He kisses him, tasting himself on Phil’s tongue and licking even further into his mouth in response. Phil’s hands are shaking a bit. Dan pulls back. “Are you okay?” he whispers, and Phil nods.“I was just nervous,” he laughs, brushing his nose against Dan’s. “Was it alright? I can--”“It was so fucking good, Phil,” Dan interrupts, sinking down to his knees in front of him. “Can I?” Phil swallows audibly and nods. Dan places his hands on Phil’s thighs and takes a deep breath. This, he can do.“Dan,” Phil says sharply when Dan sinks almost all the way down on him in one go. He pulls back briefly, then sinks back, this time relaxing enough to let Phil in all the way. Phil’s big, about the same length as he is but definitely thicker, and he gags once, hard enough to pull back again. A line of spit grows and snaps between his mouth and Phil’s dick. “Dan, you--” You don’t have to, Phil was probably about to say, but Dan doesn’t give him time before he goes back down again, this time taking him all the way and staying there. He moans around the length of him, because fuck he likes being full like this, and his hand drifts mindlessly to his own cock.“You can move,” Dan moves back to whisper, and Phil moves his hips forward tentatively when Dan takes him in his mouth again. He’s not rough, like some people have been with Dan, but he sets up a gentle rolling rhythm into Dan’s mouth. Dan whimpers at the feeling of Phil’s cockhead hitting the back of his throat. His hand moves faster where he’s jerking himself off.“Dan, are you getting off on this?” Phil whispers, a hint of awe in his voice. His fingers curl against Dan’s scalp, and his hips jerk slightly. Dan’s eyes fall shut in pleasure.“Mhm,” Dan hums around Phil’s cock. Then he pulls back and asks, knowing full well what he hopes it’ll do Phil, “Can you come in my mouth?”“Oh,” Phil says, his eyes gone wide, and Dan doesn’t have much time to be smug before he’s diving back in to suck at the tip of Phil’s cock, his other hand moving swiftly over the rest. “Dan, Dan, I think I’m close.” Dan only nods a little and moves faster, bobbing his head down occasionally to let Phil hit the back of his throat. He’s thrusting mindlessly into his own fist now, soft moans and whimpers falling from his mouth. “I’m going to – Dan,” Phil groans, and Dan lifts Phil’s hands up to cup the back of his skull, lets himself go still so Phil can pull his mouth forward onto him. Phil’s hips grind in minute circles as he comes on the back of Dan’s tongue. Dan keeps his nose pressed against Phil’s stomach as he comes too, his whole body shaking as he breathes heavily through his own orgasm.After a moment of silence, Dan stands, groaning as his knees pop. “That was good, right?” he says, brushing Phil’s hair out of his face. Phil’s face is still slack, his eyes slightly unfocused.“Uh… yeah. Yes,” he finally answers, blinking. “I’m, like, kind of dead right now. That was. That was good.” Dan laughs lightly and presses a kiss to Phil’s lips.“Real shower now?” he offers, and Phil nods, taking the shampoo from the shelf beside them and reaching up to lather Dan’s hair. “I can wash my own hair,” Dan protests, leaning into Phil’s hands. Phil nods.“I know, Bear,” he says softly, and kisses the end of Dan’s nose. “I know.”***They’re happy – more than happy, really – just like that for weeks. Dan wakes Phil up with sleepy blowjobs, Phil interrupts editing to make out with Dan and rut lazily against him until they both get off, they get drunk and Phil fucks Dan’s thighs while he murmurs low and dirty in his ear until they both come noisily. It’s good, so fucking good, and Dan feels high on it all the time. All those years they could have had are here now, filling them with energy and want and love so strong it makes Dan tear up sometimes. There’s only one other thing he could want at this point. And that’s for Phil to fuck him.He brings it up one day, somewhat inconveniently when he’s kneeling over Phil, jerking him off on the couch. The TV runs in the background.“Phil?” he says, swiping his thumb over the head of Phil’s cock. Phil lets out a breathy noise that Dan takes to be one of affirmation. “When are we going to – I mean. Do you want to talk about when we’re going to… you know? To fuck?” By the time he’s stuttered through his whole sentence, he’s blushing furiously, but all of a sudden, Phil’s coming with a muffled shout, his eyes widening at Dan’s words.“Um,” Phil says weakly after he’s regained his breath, grinning a little sheepishly. “Obviously, I… I really want to. Do you?” Dan nods, pressing absent-minded kisses into Phil’s shoulder as he jerks himself off.“Yes,” he says against Phil’s Adam’s apple. “I just wanted you to be ready. Because we can wait.” He moans softly as Phil brushes his hand aside and starts to stroke him, his hand slick with spit and some of his own cum, which he must have scooped off of his stomach.“I’m ready,” Phil says low, his lips brushing against Dan’s hairline. “Do you want me to fuck you, Dan?” Dan fucking knows he’s not really asking, that he’s already learned how much talking turns him on, and he whimpers helplessly, his hips jerking. “Come on, Dan. Think about it. Tell me how you want it.” He bites down on Dan’s earlobe.“I want you – I want you to –“ Dan breathes, and then comes all over Phil’s stomach, gasping softly as he comes down from his high. “Fuck, Phil.” He runs shaking hands through his hair, his forehead slightly damp from sweat. “Do you really want to?”Phil nods earnestly. “Yes,” he says confidently, only a glint of nerves in his eyes. “I think we’re ready. Don’t you?” As he speaks, he wipes off his and Dan’s stomachs with one of their discarded sweatshirts.“Yeah,” Dan replies, because he really fucking does, and he feels safer curled up half-naked against Phil’s chest than he ever has with anyone else, and he loves him and wants him so bad he can hardly take it sometimes. “Whenever you want, Phil.” He lets out a soft, content noise when Phil pulls his lips between his own, not wanting anything at all, just feeling.“I love you,” Dan says when they sit back.“I love you too,” Phil answers, and then pushes at Dan’s shoulder. “Come on, we have to make a gaming video today. Get up, you lazy oaf.” Dan flops down dramatically across Phil’s chest, refusing to let him move.“Noooo,” he protests, his nose pressed to the center of Phil’s collarbones. “Not work, Philly, come on.”“Up,” Phil repeats, and heaves Dan into a standing position as he stands up himself. “It’ll be fun, come on.” Dan groans and maneuvers back into his pants, Phil tucking himself back in and then taking Dan’s hand to lead him upstairs. Their fingers interlock as they walk, and Dan doesn’t miss the happy sigh that escapes Phil as they go. This, he thinks, is all they ever wanted.***“This is a big deal, you know,” Phil says later that night, after they’ve gotten the footage for the video and thrown together dinner. They’re sitting at the dining room table, the sunset casting a violet glow over the walls.“Hm?” Dan says, a mouthful of stir-fry not really contributing to his conversational skills. Phil sighs.“Sex,” he says, and spears a vegetable on the end of his fork. “It’s… I don’t know. It’s different. It’s important. Emotionally.”“I know,” Dan says quickly, clamming up instinctively as they approach emotional territory. Phil’s eyes, ever sharp, don’t miss the change in his face.“Are you sure?” Phil says softly, laying a hand down on Dan’s where it rests on the table. “You know, we can wait however long you want. I know things haven’t always been… good for you with this stuff.”“Yeah,” Dan grunts noncommittally, because maybe he’s been fucked over with this stuff, but he most definitely isn’t going to talk about it now. “It’s fine.” He looks up into Phil’s eyes, so open and blue, and sighs. His resolve to be completely unemotional about all this crumbles instantly. “Phil. I love you. It’ll be different. Right?”Phil smiles, wide and so goddamn happy Dan’s very being aches. “Of course. Of course it will.” And Dan knows it will be.After dinner, they both clear the table, Dan washing the dishes and Phil drying and putting them carefully back in their places. Dan keeps his head down, watches the suds flicker and pop around his fingers. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be fine. When he washes the last dish, he leaves the water running just to watch it bubble around his hands.He inhales sharply when Phil comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around his stomach and tucking his face into Dan’s neck. It’s not scary, not even sexual, really, and Dan turns the tap off and leans back into the warmth of the body behind him, breathing in Phil’s fresh vanilla smell.“I really do love you,” Phil says against his shoulder, and Dan feels warm all the way into his fingertips.“I know,” he says, and then adds, “Me too.” Because Jesus fucking Christ does he love this boy tucked against his body, and he couldn’t even have imagined how much he could have loved him in this moment. He rests his hands over Phil’s against his midriff. “Would you kiss me?”“Yeah,” Phil says, and tilts Dan’s head back with a hand on his jaw. It’s soft, easy, Phil’s mouth strong and forgiving all at once. Dan puts his whole body into it, opens up and pushes out his tongue gently to meet Phil’s. He doesn’t remember ever letting anyone in like this, letting them move into the soft spaces of his mouth and map out the curvature of his teeth. He kisses Phil like he breathes, natural and soft and so fucking good.“Phil,” Dan says quietly, and his hips roll back gently. “Do you want--?”“If you do,” Phil breathes, and turns Dan to face him and seals his mouth over his again. He kisses Dan hungrily, like he might lose him at any moment, and Dan circles his arms around the back of Phil’s neck to let him know he’s there, that he’s not leaving him, not then or ever. He nods against Phil, makes sure he can feel it, and then rolls his hips again. Phil’s already hardening, and Dan is too. Phil moves to slot their legs together, and Dan hums when Phil’s thigh presses hard against his crotch. He ruts against it, whimpers when one of Phil’s hands moves to rest underneath the bolt of his jaw. He wants Phil to have him, own him, in all the ways he can. He breaks their kiss to lead Phil down the hall to his bedroom.“God,” Phil says when they get there, his eyes wild and his lips shining. Dan feels his eyes track a white-hot path down his body as he lifts his shirt up over his head, and as soon as it’s off Phil is on him, running his hands gently over the rungs of Dan’s ribcage and across the expanse of his chest and stomach. Phil’s always been a sensory person, like he needs to physically feel things to understand them, and it’s no different with this; he always touches Dan’s body like he wants to learn it, like it’s something precious. Dan’s still not quite used to it, but he’s finding that he rather likes it. He sighs as Phil presses gentle fingers into the dips of his collarbone, rubs circles over the soft lines of his hipbones.“Now yours,” Dan finally demands, tugging at the hem of Phil’s shirt. Phil gets the message, blushing as always once his chest is bare. He’s self-conscious for some reason Dan can’t quite understand, and it triggers something hot and protective in him. He pushes Phil backwards cautiously and crawls over him once Phil’s laid down on the bed. Phil watches him with wide eyes, his chest rising and falling a little more quickly than usual.“You still nervous?” Dan asks, and ducks his head down to suck at Phil’s neck, on the muscle right above his shoulder, just where he likes it. Phil lets out a soft ah, his legs coming up to open around Dan’s body.“Kind of,” he says, one hand resting in the curve above Dan’s hip. “I just want it to be good for you.” His sentence trails off, his voice slightly higher than usual, when Dan moves down to press biting kisses in a wandering line down his chest.“Phil,” Dan says seriously, “You’re always good for me.” He means it, and he’s glad his eyes are out of Phil’s sight, because maybe he tears up for just a second. He blinks it back and sucks a hickey over Phil’s heart.“You too,” Phil says, squeezing Dan’s hip. “I’m sorry I’m nervous.” He’s always been a nervous person, more than he usually lets on, and Dan’s heart twinges. He moves back up for a moment to kiss Phil hard, their noses bumping and making both of them let out a breathless laugh when they pull back.“Don’t be sorry,” Dan says firmly. “I'm nervous too, a little.” Christ, he doesn’t want to fuck this up, and he’s forgotten how nervous he was until he says it, but he keeps going. “But it’s okay, yeah? It’s just me. It’s me.” He rests his forehead on Phil’s, one of his hands finding his and curling up in it reassuringly. “I just want to make you feel good. You can’t do anything wrong.” He kisses Phil gently and then works back down his body, biting softly at Phil’s hipbone while one of his hands travels down to palm at the bulge in Phil’s pants.“Ah, Dan,” Phil says. “I can’t do anything wrong? What if I – what if I sang the national anthem the whole time?”“Shut up,” Dan laughs against Phil’s skin, and grinds his hand teasingly up Phil’s length. Phil stifles a moan.“What if I wanted to call my mum and put her on speakerphone?” Phil says, and Dan shrieks.“For fuck’s sake, stop,” he laughs, and moves back up Phil’s body. Phil’s laughing, his eyes bright and his tongue between his teeth, and Dan kisses him with laughter still bubbling between their mouths. Phil’s not so smug when Dan drops his hips down and grinds up slowly against him.“Mmph,” Phil says, eyes widening and hands clenching down on Dan’s arms. “Jeans, jeans, Dan.” Dan grins triumphantly and moves to unbutton their pants.“You can get out of your own skinny jeans,” he says, because fuck if they haven’t learned that there’s no sexy way to de-skinny jean someone. He rolls off of Phil and onto his back so he can shimmy out of his pants, turning his head to watch Phil do the same. When they’re both in their boxers, Dan moves to straddle him again. This time when Dan rolls his hips against Phil’s, he can feel everything: the hot outline of Phil’s cock through the fabric, the faint wetness that’s collected at the tip of it, how hard he is against Dan’s own cock moving beside his. “You’re so big, Phil, you feel so good,” Dan says softly, and maybe it sounds like a bad porno, but he’s given up on trying to keep his mouth from running when they’re like this. It feels far too good. “I want you so bad, please.” He lets out a startled noise when Phil taps his hip to move and then flips them over, moving instantly between Dan’s legs.“Kiss me,” Phil demands gently, and Dan presses his lips to his immediately, their mouths moving in wet hot familiarity and Phil’s tongue dipping between Dan’s lips. Dan whines. Where he’s humping against Dan, their lengths rubbing tantalizingly alongside one another’s, Phil slides his hands up Dan’s thighs to move underneath his boxers. He lets his hands rest there, possessive, and then one of them moves upward to tease at Dan’s balls and the base of his dick. Dan moans into their kiss.“Can we take these off?” Dan asks, and when Phil nods, he slides his boxers quickly off of his body. Phil mirrors him. They both gasp when they come back together to push against each other, bare. Phil’s skin is hot everywhere it touches Dan, along the inside of his thighs and against his ass and in the press of their chests and lips. Dan rocks up into it, letting out tiny broken sounds that Phil swallows greedily.“You’ll show me how?” Phil asks, only pulling back ever so slightly, so that their lips still brush when he speaks. Dan nods, a little caught up in the slick way their cocks rock together, but eventually shimmying out from under Phil and reaching over to the bedside table to grab lube. His hand hovers over the condoms beside it.“Are you clean?” he asks over his shoulder. Phil nods. “Like – like just got tested clean? As in, when were you tested?”“Oh my god,” Phil laughs, and smacks playfully at Dan’s thigh. Dan may or may not like that more than he lets on, but that’s for a different time. “Yes, like just got tested. Like a year ago, after that one girl I brought back. And I haven’t been with anyone since.”“Good,” Dan says, jealousy spiking irrationally in his chest at the thought of that girl. He lays the lube down on the bed and pulls Phil’s mouth down to his into a bruising kiss, pulling back to nip at the underside of Phil’s jaw. “You’re mine now.” He tries to say it as a joke, and maybe fails a bit, because Phil kisses him deep and nods, guiding Dan so he’s laid back down under Phil’s body.“Yours,” he agrees, reaching a hand down to squeeze their cocks together. Dan moans and plants his heels on the bed so he can rock up into it.“Phil, Phil, can you – please, I want your fingers in me,” he pleads, and fumbles to find the lube bottle again. He finally finds it, pushes it into Phil’s hands.“One finger first, yeah?” Phil asks, his brow furrowing, and Dan nods, remembering how fucking nervous Phil probably is. He's never done this before, after all. Dan pops the bottle open himself, takes Phil’s hand in his so he can squirt lube over one finger.“One first,” he confirms. “And sometimes it’ll take longer, but I… when I showered before dinner, I stretched some.” He blushes lightly but takes Phil’s wrist to press one finger against him. Phil shuffles back a little to accommodate the angle, so he’s propped on one hand above Dan’s body. “Just – try to go slow at first, okay?” Dan’s suddenly aware that his heart is beating incredibly fast, that Phil was right; this is fucking important, not always to him but absolutely when it’s with Phil. He looks up into Phil’s eyes while Phil traces around his rim.“I love you,” Phil says quietly, and Dan leans up onto his elbows so he can kiss Phil again. It’s so good, so soft and careful that Dan almost doesn’t notice when Phil slips his finger into him. Dan whines into the kiss, his back arching because Phil is inside of him. His fingers tangle in the bedsheets.“Phil, Phil,” he whispers as Phil pulls back to look at where his finger is disappearing inside of Dan. “I love you too. Another, please.” Phil’s mouth is hanging open, his eyes fixed on his finger where he’s still pumping it into Dan. He swallows and looks up.“Another?” Phil asks, and he sounds absolutely fucking wrecked already. Dan nods, letting his legs fall open wider. Pulling out his finger, Phil picks the bottle back up. “How much?” he says softly, and Dan sighs dramatically and takes Phil’s hand and the bottle, grinning reassuringly at Phil when he locks eyes with him.“Like this, yeah?” he says, and coats two of Phil’s fingers. “At least enough to cover them. But you can’t really have too much.” He keeps his eyes on Phil’s while he smoothes the lube over his fingers, letting his other hand curl around Phil’s wrist. “Put one finger first, and then another. You’ve never fingered yourself before?” He sighs and shifts his hips as Phil pushes one finger back into him.“No,” Phil says breathlessly. “Have you?” He withdraws his fingers only to push two back in, pausing halfway to watch Dan’s face before he steadily pushes all the way in.“Mhm,” Dan whimpers, rolling his hips down onto Phil’s fingers. He falls onto his back, reaching up a hand to run through Phil’s hair. “Thought about you while I was doing it.”“Mm,” Phil lets out, pulling a lip between his teeth. “How? Tell me.” He scissors his fingers, his other hand coming up to clutch at Dan’s thigh. Dan’s eyes fall to Phil’s cock where it stands flushed and heavy between his legs, his hips twitching forward mindlessly.“Just wanted you to fuck me,” he says, “However you wanted. Thought about sucking you off, choking on it.” His hips stutter, and he throws an arm over his face as he rocks his hips down. “Thought – Phil, Phil, yeah, curl up right there, fuck – thought about you holding me down, fucking pounding me -- fuck, Phil.” He’s embarrassingly turned on by this, especially because Phil’s curling his fingers up to nudge curiously at Dan’s prostate.“Look at me,” Phil says hoarsely, and a small thrill pushes through Dan’s chest at the command. He pulls his arm off his face to look up at Phil. He’s so fucking beautiful, his face flushed and his hair beginning to curl at his forehead. “Can you take another?”“Yes, please,” Dan says, and this time Phil does it on his own, slicking up his fingers and working his fingers back into Dan. “Oh, oh,” Dan breathes, the stretch burning. He wants it so bad, wants to feel Phil all over him, wants it to make him sore. “Phil, Phil, yeah, that’s so good.” His eyes flicker down to where Phil’s begun to jerk himself off, his face slack with pleasure. He lets him finger him for a while longer, the slick sounds of Phil’s fingers in him and his hand on his cock the only sounds in the room. “I’m ready,” Dan finally says, and Phil’s eyes snap up to his.“You’re sure?” he asks. Dan nods, his arms coming up to loop around Phi’s neck as he crawls to settle over him. Phil reaches down one more time to squirt more lube on his fingers, pushing more into Dan’s hole and slicking the rest down over his cock.“Put this under my back,” Dan offers, reaching up behind his head to grab a pillow. Phil complies, not breaking eye contact with Dan as Dan arches up and lets Phil slide the pillow beneath his hips. “Are you ready?” He can’t look away from Phil, and he thinks he could get drunk on it, just looking at him with that look in his eyes.“Yes,” Phil says lowly, pressing needy kisses to the corners of Dan’s mouth, his forehead, his eyelids. “Can I?”“Please, please,” Dan begs, and then Phil’s reaching his hand down to guide his cock to Dan’s entrance, his thumb rubbing soothingly against Dan’s rim before he pushes. The head of his cock pushes past the first ring of muscles, and Dan’s mouth falls open.“Dan,” Phil says.“Yeah, I’m here, come on,” Dan promises, and Phil drops his head down and pushes in further. He moves past the second ring, and then he’s pushing in steadily, stopping a few times to watch Dan’s face for any signs of discomfort before he keeps going. Dan grits his teeth – it’s just the right side of too much, and he can’t feel anything other than the full pulsing pleasure inside of him. He’s letting out a stream of high whines he can’t really control, Phil panting softly in his ear as he rocks his hips into Dan and finally bottoms out. “Mmph,” Phil bites out, kissing Dan’s neck open-mouthed. “That’s – Dan. ““Mm,” Dan moans in agreement, and then thrusts his hips down. “You can move.” Phil pulls his hips back tentatively, his stomach dragging over Dan’s cock before he pushes back in. It’s good. It’s really fucking good, Dan thinks, his mind already growing hazy as Phil thrusts in and out again.“It’s so good,” Phil murmurs, echoing Dan’s thoughts, and Dan nods.“You can go faster if you want,” he whispers, and that seems to be all the permission Phil needs. He thrusts again, making Dan jolt. “Ah, ah, Phil,” Dan whines, moving his hips down to meet Phil’s so hard their skin slaps audibly as Phil sets up a steady rhythm. He’s dropped down to rest against his forearms, breath coming out hot against Dan’s mouth while he fucks up into him. Dan lifts up his legs to cross them at the small of Phil’s back, and suddenly Phil’s cock is brushing up against his prostate on every thrust. “Phil,” Dan says sharply, forgetting how to breathe when Phil’s blue eyes come open an inch away from him, looking down at him hazily. “That’s – right there, that’s so good, Phil.”“It’s good?” Phil asks, and in response Dan digs his heels down into Phil’s ass to push him further into him. He’s so, so full, and he arches so hard the tops of his shoulders almost lift off the bed, his hands scrabbling for purchase against Phil’s back.“Phil,” he half-sobs, clinging to Phil and burying his face in Phil’s neck as his thrusts bounce his whole body. “Phil, Phil.” It’s all he can say, all he can think, and heat’s building low in his body. He grinds into it, chases it, and Phil moans when Dan clenches down around his cock. He pushes his mouth sloppily against Dan’s in a panting kiss, his hand moving up to Dan’s jaw so he can grab Dan’s chin and steer him into it. Then his thumb pushes up higher, pressing down on the thickness of Dan’s bottom lip, pulling his mouth open and resting flat against his tongue. “Mmh,” Dan manages, letting Phil pull his mouth open and lick into it, the taste of his skin salty and fucking addictive against his tongue. Phil’s strong, all broad hips and shoulders, and the way he’s fucking Dan is unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He feels small, for fuck’s sake, so filled up and taken care of. He bites gently at Phil’s thumb to stem the broken noises coming from his throat.“Come on, make noise for me,” Phil says, pulling his thumb out of Dan’s mouth and letting it drag wetly across his jaw. Something snaps in Dan.“I’m not going to last much longer,” he admits, and Phil nods, the softness of his hair pushing up against Dan’s forehead. “Mm – mm, Phil.” He wants to talk, wants to tell Phil how fucking much he loves him, but the hot thick drag of Phil’s cock inside of him is making him dizzy. Instead he tilts his hips up to Phil, lets himself make the noises Phil was asking for. It’s almost embarrassing, how high-pitched and desperate his moans have gotten, but Phil’s eyes are fixed, dark, on his mouth, and he thinks Phil might just like it. “Oh, fuck, Phil,” Dan whispers. “Touch me, touch me, please.” Phil obliges quickly, and Dan feels the muscles in his back shifting as he balances on one arm and reaches down to jerk Dan off. As soon as his hand curls around his cock, Dan’s words come back to him in a hot rush.“Phil, Phil, you’re so good, fuck, you’re so big, fuck me, come on,” he begs, and Phil moans against Dan’s temple. “Phil. Phil. No one’s ever fucked me like this, Phil, it’s so good, it’s so fucking good.” He’s rambling a bit, but he means it more than he’s ever meant anything. Phil’s hips begin to jerk erratically, and Dan thrusts down hard to meet them. “Come on, are you going to come in me?” he whispers, blushing a bit at his own words as he trails a hand up to card through Phil’s hair. “Please, please, fill me up, I want it so bad.” His voice is a pure whine now, but he can’t help it, because fuck Phil’s hand feels so good wrapped around him, thumbing over his slit on the upstroke and squeezing firmly on the way down. Phil’s thighs are sweaty against Dan’s ass where he’s pushing frantically into him. Dan’s breath has begun to come out in short hiccup-like bursts. Warmth is pooling in his stomach, hot points of pleasure radiating from Phil’s fingers wrapped around him and his cock pushing and pulling deep inside of him. He can’t keep back the tiny ah, ah, ahs falling from his lips every time Phil pushes back into him, splitting him open to take him over and over again. Dan’s hands trail down to part his own cheeks and press his fingers against his hole, pushing slippery fingers to feel Phil’s cock where it’s driving into him. Phil groans, thrusting in so hard Dan has to put an arm up against the headboard to keep himself from moving up further. He uses the leverage to push down hard into Phil’s movements.“Phil, Phil, Phil,” he chants, and then it’s too much, and he’s coming, eyes squeezing tight and pleasure pulsing over him in a bright hot wave. His cock jerks in Phil’s hand, and he feels come pulsating warmly up onto his stomach. “Mmph, Phil,” he whines, hips still jerking through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Phil’s still going, his mouth open slightly and his eyes fixed on Dan’s.“Oh my god,” Phil chokes out, and Dan pushes the hair off of Phil's forehead, squeezes down around his cock.“Yeah, come on,” he urges him. “I love you so much, Phil, it was so good, you took such good care of me.” And then he breaks off as Phil whines under his breath, his hips stilling and grinding mercilessly against Dan’s prostate as he comes. Dan gasps brokenly but holds still, letting Phil come in him and ride out his orgasm. Finally, Phil stops moving and collapses against Dan.“Shit,” Dan breathes, and moves to tuck Phil’s head under his chin. “Are you alright?”“Ugh,” Phil replies weakly, and pulls out so he can curl up beside Dan.“Same,” Dan says dryly, his heart still thudding. “Was it good for you?”“Fuck yes,” Phil says, and Dan’s eyes widen at the swear.“That good?” he teases, and tilts Phil’s head up so he can look him in the eyes. “I love you. Really.” Phil’s flushed a beautiful color, his heartbeat still pounding in his chest so much that Dan can feel it like his own.“I love you too,” Phil says, kissing Dan’s nose. “I’ll get a towel.” Dan watches him stand up on wobbly legs, his body long and pale and so fucking pretty.“You look like a baby giraffe,” Dan calls out at him as he stumbles down the hall, legs clearly still half-jelly. He hears Phil let out a shout of laughter down the hall.When Phil comes back, he’s holding the towel over himself, so goddamn shy Dan feels like maybe he just fell in love with him all over again.“You know, I’ve seen your dick once or twice,” he comments, and Phil blushes.“Stop,” he whines, and crawls over Dan’s body to begin cleaning him off. Dan’s breath catches, and for a second they both look at each other, the silence in the room thickening. Then Phil reaches down, pushing the towel across Dan’s body, and he must have warmed up the water beforehand, because it’s not uncomfortable at all. In fact, Dan wants Phil’s hands on him all the time, he decides, and he snuggles up close to him as soon as he’s thrown the towel on the floor and crawled back in bed.“I love you a lot,” Dan says into Phil’s shoulder, knowing he’s saying it a ridiculous amount but needing to hear it again. He spoons up close to him and wishes he could be closer.“I love you a lot,” Phil counters, and turns so they’re face-to-face. “Dan. If I hadn’t found you—“ he trails off, watching his hand where it rubs circles on Dan’s chest.“I know,” Dan whispers, and stills Phil’s hand so it’s resting perfectly over his heart. “Me too.”There’s not much left to put into words after that, and instead Phil rests his forehead against Dan’s, closing his eyes. They breathe in each other’s breath, their hearts beating in synchronicity. After a while, Phil falls asleep, his hand still curled up in Dan’s against his chest. Dan watches him, takes him all in even though he thinks he knows by now he’ll always have him like this, now and forever. Sleep’s coming easy, and Dan lets it take him, Phil’s body warm where it intertwines with his. This, he thinks, is what it feels like. This is his forever.
|
10021778
|
Teddy Lupin and The
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Teddy Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, Harry Potter, Rubeus Hagrid",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by ne-sii (inmcc)",
"chapters": "3/?",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "2,155",
"Additional Tags": "teddy lupin and the heirs of hogwarts, Hogwarts, teddy's first year, Next Generation, Next Gen",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
PROLOGUE
* * *
" You will find that help will always be given at Hogwarts,
to those who ask for it"
Albus Dumbledore
* * *
There it was. The Sorting Hat. Around it, everything seemed so amazingly still. The teachers sitting straight on their chairs, the brightly lit candles floating so high up you mistook them for stars, and even the bright blue lightning bolts you could see through the invisible ceiling. Only one thing wasn't static then – the beating heart of Edward Remus Lupin.It felt, to little Teddy, like only one second had passed since "Ayers, Levi" had been placed in Gryffindor, when Hagrid's rough voice sounded through the Dining Hall. "Lupin, Edward" it had called, yet Teddy remained, like everything else, unmoved. Regardless of how much he had longed for that moment, for the selection – his selection, his feet seemed to be stubbornly glued to the ground."Go on", the fierce pat on his back was enough to get Teddy's engine back to work. His feet walked forward, his back straightened and his chin held high. He didn't look back to see which of his recently acquired friends had pushed him out of embarrassment and into the promise of seven years of magical challenges. He simply walked and sat and waited.Hagrid's large, strong hand placed the Sorting hat on Teddy's head, and it fell all the way down to his nose. Immediately the hat started moving, adjusting to Teddy's face, to his brain. To the young boy, the feeling was as if the hat was syncing thoughts with him, as it vastly searched through his memories. Some even flashed before his eyes.First, was the most recent. He was saying goodbye to his grandmother at platform nine and three quarters. After that, he saw a lazy afternoon, laying in the sun beside Victoire Weasley, his best friend in the world. Then Harry Potter was pointing out his favourite shops in Diagon Alley, as he and Teddy purchased the latter's brand new school material. Finally, Teddy saw himself many years ago, staring at an old picture. It depicted his mother and father, smiling at him."Opened to all possibilities, I see," a murmur echoed in Teddy's mind, startling him. The Sorting Hat was speaking to him, the boy understood. It was making an inventory of his traits. "You were well raised, I can tell. Grew up to be smart, but modest. I think I know just where to put you..."And just like that, the hat was stepping out of their privacy, and stating, to the eyes of the rest the of the world, where it was that Teddy Lupin truly belonged."HUFFLEPUFF!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A long table full of students rose to their feet, as they welcomed Teddy Lupin to his new house. The boy, no longer as distressed, appeared to be back to his senses. He pushed the hat out of his head, handed it back to Hagrid and almost ran towards his new and welcoming house mates. As he did so, he turned his hair bright yellow, to match his house.The fuss did not last long, though, as there were still a few other students to be sorted. Most, Teddy did not know. In fact, on the Hogwarts Express he had had the chance to meet only two other first years – two identically looking girls. Their names, Luna and Styx Volkov.It took quite a while for the twins to be called out though, and Teddy was starting to get both bored and hungry. Some of his new classmates tried to engage in conversation with him, but the older Hufflepuffs warned them to remain quiet during the selection. There would be plenty of time for chatting during the feast either way. So, Teddy waited, quietly, until Luna Volkov was finally called out.Of the two twins, Luna had appeared to Teddy as the one who kept most to herself. She wore her long red hair falling around her face and she did not smile much. It wasn't that she looked mean, or upset, though. For the most part, she seemed separate from the world, as if it weren't interesting enough to her bright blue eyes. It was, thereby, a surprise when Luna too was sorted into Hufflepuff. A surprise not only to Teddy Lupin.Styx Volkov, now the only student left to be sorted, looked rather astonished and was even mouthing a silent "what?!" to her sister, as Luna smiled, pleased. It was quite the sight, very different from Styx's enthusiastic grins, Teddy thought. But it disappeared just as quickly and unexpectedly as it had showed. Then, Luna too, handed the hat back to Hagrid and ran to take her seat beside Teddy. The boy happily gave her a welcoming pat in the shoulder, which Luna returned with a nod, before turning to watch her sister's selection."Volkov, Styx!", Hagrid called. With only one name remaining, Styx had the attention of all the students. Each of the four houses, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and even Slytherin, seemed to be calling to her, begging her to join them. Maybe it was due to their eagerness, or maybe the Sorting Hat was tired of reviewing students' minds; but Styx's sorting was easily the one that took longest that night. It was as if the hat simply could not make its mind. That is, of course, if it really had one.Teddy was precisely thinking of the sensation he had felt when he had worn the hat himself, when it placed Styx in Gryffindor and the red house beamed in contentment. Nevertheless, not all of them cheered. Amongst the crowd of clapping Gryffindors, Levi Ayers, with his dark hair and thin structure, had his arms crossed and seemed to be measuring Styx Volkov. The girl, unaware, ended up taking her place just beside him.When Styx did so, the Great Hall fell back to a deadly silence as Minerva McGonagall, current Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, rose to her feet. She opened her mouth to speak, but, just then, the whole room turned dark. The floating candles fell to the ground, their flames gone; the flashes of light outside stopped, replaced by dark clouds; and the teachers, up on their chairs, stood, alarmed.But the state of panic only lasted for mere seconds. After the silence, there came a crescendo buzzing sound that took the students only a moment to identify – thousands of winged grey letters came flying inside through the grand doors of the Great Hall. Each letter came to halt in front of each student and each teacher, while the few remaining letters wandered around near the enchanted ceiling.Teddy stared, confused and afraid, at his own letter, hovering just a little above his head. He was sure, by the look on the teachers faces, and by the stories that he had heard, that this was no ordinary event. Beside him, Luna twitched and stepped hard on his foot, yet Teddy did not dare make a sound."We are sorry to interrupt your speech, Headmistress," the letters spoke in unison, and half the room whispered howlers. "But we too, have words to say.""To all students, old and new, to all the clever, the brave, the kind and the ambitious, we send out our welcome to a new school year! We're letting you know that this year will not be eventless; it will not be for those who are not curious, not fighters, not helpers and not dreamers. This year we will be testing you, all of you. We'll give you clues, we'll throw you dares, we'll make you face our challenges; so look out for us. For one thing we can promise you – those of you who face them and succeed will receive the most rewarding prize. For we are the Heirs of Hogwarts!"With the last sentence, all of the Howlers moved in the air, forming, all together, two large letters H, before they burst into coloured flames and illuminated the Great Hall for a few seconds before they let it fall into dimness once again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chapter Two - Punished The Howler’s Incident, as people had begun to call it, was still being discussed when Teddy left Hufflepuff’s common room the following morning. He had hoped he too would get the chance to fantasise about the so called Heirs of Hogwarts, yet, his housemate Luna was nowhere to be seen. She had excused herself the night before, just as the feast had recommenced, and he hadn’t seen her ever since. Nevertheless, Teddy did think he had seen her leave the Great Hall with an older Slytherin boy. Her sister, however, was just about everything there was to be seen at the Great Hall. Styx Volkov and Levi Ayers were engaged in what was more of a two-sided-tantrum than a conversation. Teddy fiercely believed the pair could be heard all the way over to Hagrid’s shed. Still, he made himself acquainted with some delicious pumpkin pie and sat down to watch. “There is a reason they were so intent on mentioning all the houses!” Styx was saying, as she pinned her hair up into a ponytail. Her face was about as red as the stray locks of it. “They clearly want at least one student out of each.” Levi shook his head in disagreement. “They’re the Heirs of Hogwarts, not the Heirs of Godric, Rowena and what-not! They’re the best students in this castle, and I will become of them.” “I see my sister has made a new friend.” As if by materialisation, Luna appeared beside Teddy, making him jump in surprise. He had a lot of questions for her, yet he seemed unable to let his eyes wander away from the Gryffindor’s table. “And a foreigner, no less.” Teddy had noticed it too. Although Levi clearly strained to sound quite British himself, there were multiple flaws in his speech. It was almost as if halfway through a sentence he would start speaking in an entirely different language, such was the difference in his pronunciation. It was hard to understand, and more so now that Levi was practically shouting. That did not, however, seem to bother Styx in the least. “Non-sense!” The red head backfired. “One is heir to someone, not something. They’re only named the Heirs of Hogwarts because it sounds good!” “Ayers! Volkov! What on Earth do you two think you’re doing?!” “Uh-oh!” Luna and Teddy both exclaimed at the same time, turning in their chairs so they wouldn’t be facing the newcomer. But failing entirely as they kept on looking behind their backs. It was Minerva McGonagall, the headmistress herself, who had come to interrupt the discussion. “Well professor,” Levi stood up, clearly happy to have such an important figure addressing him. “I was just discussing the Heirs of Hogwarts terms of recruiting with Styx here.” “With Miss Volkov and apparently everyone else in the Castle.” McGonagall commented and Teddy glanced at her. The Professor’s aura was usually severe and, as general basis, the woman very much scared Teddy. Still, having been in her presence before, Teddy could distinguish the slight amusement in her face. “Wouldn’t be nice of us to impede anyone of sharing their opinion, professor.” Levi answered, rather promptly. “As we do seem to differ in opinion… Maybe you’d care to share yours, professor?” By then, at least half of the Great Hall was listening in on Levi Ayers and the other half began paying attention as he pronounced those last few words. Many, like Teddy, held their breath in. Professor McGonagall had completely dismissed the matter the previous night. She had, with a wave of her wand, returned everything to its place and ordered the food to be served. Then, when all stomachs were well packed, she had hurried her students to bed. All the while, she had not said a single word about the incident or the Heirs of Hogwarts. Not one word, until then. “I would, Mr. Ayers, thank you for asking.” Professor McGonagall stepped closer to Levi and Styx - who was still sitting though as engaged in the conversation as Levi was - and rested a hand on each of the Gryffindor’s shoulders. “The Heirs of Hogwarts,” she spoke, clearly, “and anyone who is suspected of being associated with them, will, such as you and Miss Volkov, be punished for the ruckus they have caused. I expect you will receive a letter from your House Head with details.” With no further words, professor McGonagall resumed her path to the teacher’s table and started enjoying her breakfast, leaving Styx, Levi and at least a dozen other students with their mouths opened. Teddy too had remained impressed, but he closed his mouth quickly as he felt Luna tugging at his sleeve. “What?” He turned to her. “Class.” She hurried. “Let’s go.” But a quick glimpse at his watch told Teddy class didn’t start for another twenty minutes…
|
10036388
|
if you would and you
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/F",
"Characters": "Kima (Critical Role), Allura Vysoren",
"Fandom": "Critical Role (Web Series)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by blackglass",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-01T00:00:00",
"words": "35",
"Additional Tags": "Angst, Femslash February, Podfic, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming",
"Relationship": "Kima/Allura Vysoren",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "Awesome Ladies Podfic Anthology VII",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Length: 10:12
Download (right-click and save as) as an mp3. (Thanks to paraka for hosting!) Streaming:
A permanent link is now available at the audiofic archive here.Feedback and constructive criticism always appreciated! Enjoy! :)
|
10097348
|
A Little Self-Control
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by Nox Pumilum [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "4/4",
"completed": "2005-07-10",
"published": "2005-07-04T00:00:00",
"words": "12,853",
"Additional Tags": "Slash, Explicit Language, BDSM, Sexual Content, Humor, Parody, Romance",
"Relationship": "Harry Potter/Severus Snape",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Prologue: Fukus and Propositions Harry, hidden under his invisibility cloak, whispered a password to the portrait on the door in front of him after looking about to make sure that no one was around. Once the door opened he swiftly and quietly entered the room, waiting for the door to close before slipping off his cloak. He walked around the room, looking for his lover.“Severus, are you here?” He called out, no longer whispering. He knew that there was no chance of anyone hearing him unless they were in the Professor’s quarters. Snape made sure that he always had a strong silencing charm in place, especially after the first time he and Harry had made love.Harry blushed and grinned sheepishly to himself as he remembered that wonderful night. It was his first time ever, so he had no way of knowing that he would have been so vocal. He had felt embarrassed at first, but the older man had urged him to continue his moans and pleas, saying that they were a major turn on.Harry remembered the older man’s words exactly. “Don’t hold them back, Potter. Let them go... It makes me so hot to hear you beg for more while I’m in your tight little ass.” Every time Harry thought of those words he felt aroused. He loved it when Snape talked dirty to him. The man was usually so stern and composed, so hearing such naughty words uttered in that orgasm inducing voice gave Harry an instant erection. One day he wanted to see if he could come just from listening to the older man.Harry jumped slightly, shaken out of his pleasant memories as he felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder. He turned to see Severus smirking at him.“Hello, Professor,” Harry said innocently. He knew that it turned the older man on when he addressed him by his title while in such an intimate setting.“Hello Mr. Potter,” Snape played along, his smirk widening.Harry smiled and slipped his arms around the man’s waist, resting his chin on the other’s broad chest to look up into obsidian eyes. He shivered in anticipation as he felt hands lightly run from his shoulders then down the length of his back to cup his bottom. He knew his lover had something special planned tonight. Undoubtedly something kinky, judging from the excitement he had seen in his Professor’s eyes when the older man told him to meet him tonight.“So... what do you have planned, Severus?” Harry arched an eyebrow in inquiry. Severus smiled and squeezed the younger man’s buttocks before pulling back and walking toward his room, motioning with a hand for Harry to follow. Curious, Harry walked into the bedroom to find Snape rummaging about in his closet.“What’s that?” He asked as Snape pulled a rather large box from one of the shelves in the closet. Well, it wasn’t huge, but it was much bigger than any of the boxes their other toys came in. Harry felt slightly nervous. He hoped Severus hadn’t gotten anything too scary. Severus chuckled at Harry’s confused and wary expression as he sat next to him on the bed, holding the box. “You know how I like to play our little ‘Student and Professor’ game, right?” Harry smiled and nodded. Harry liked playing it too. He never would have guessed that his Professor was such a kinky man who liked to use toys and role play.“Well, I got a little something that I thought would spice the game up a bit more. Something new to try that might add a bit more excitement,” he handed the box to Harry. “Mm, sounds nice, love,” Harry said, moving to open the box only to be stopped by Severus’ hand over his.“Before you open the box, I want you to know that you don’t have to do this. I understand if you feel that this may be a little disconcerting. We haven’t tried anything like this yet, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to,” Severus smiled gently, conveying his concern.Harry smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure I’ll love it,” he said. Severus still didn’t look convinced. The older man bit his lip in anticipation as Harry lifted the lid from the box and moved aside paper wrapping to see his new gift.He gasped slightly and his eyes widened. What a gift it was. It appeared to be a school girl’s uniform, like one of the uniforms he had seen in many Japanese comic books. Also in the box was a pair of white, lacy socks, a pair of white panties made from cotton trimmed with lace, a pair of dress shoes and... a make-up kit?Severus was right; this was very kinky. Not that he didn’t want to try. The idea of dressing up like a girl for his lover made him feel hot. He could feel his pants beginning to tighten. He looked up at the older man who was still worrying his lower lip between his teeth, looking at him expectantly.“I love it!” Harry said and planted a kiss on the corner of his lover’s mouth. Severus smiled. “I had hoped that you would. Do you want to try it out tonight?” He asked. Harry nodded eagerly.“Alright, go change,” Severus smiled and his eyes shone with excitement and arousal. “It’s the detention scenario. Meet me in my ‘office’,” he said with a smirk. Harry grinned and nodded. By office Severus meant his private study. Harry entered the bathroom, his cock hardening further as he looked at the uniform again. This was going to be so much fun. He undressed and put the uniform on. He felt a bit glad that his legs weren’t extremely hairy. It wouldn’t have looked right with the skirt, and he didn’t think he could handle shaving his legs. He looked at the make-up kit and briefly wondered if he would make a disaster of his face. He had seen Hermione apply make-up before, so he decided to try to imitate what she did.He decided not to use too much, so he settled for a bit of powder, some eyeliner, mascara, a little eye shadow, and some pretty, light pink lip gloss. He admired himself in the mirror, turning this way and that to see how he looked.He could tell that Severus had picked out the uniform. The skirt and bow were a lovely shade of green that complimented his eyes. He noticed how the skirt stopped an inch or two above his knee, showing off his legs that were toned from quidditch training, but at the same time, slender and what Severus called “quite lovely.” He did look very feminine at the moment. Except for his hair. He sighed as he ran a brush through his untamable hair, trying to calm it down. He gave up after a few minutes, deciding that it was only going to get mussed later on anyway. Smiling, he left the bathroom and swiftly walked through the suite to stand in front of the door to Severus’ study. He stopped, then knocked.“Enter,” he heard a muffled voice on the other side of the door command. Harry turned the knob, replacing his smile with a mask of sadness and resignation as he fell into his role of a student receiving punishment.“Ah, Miss Potter... I’m glad you finally decided to show up for your punishment,” Snape said from behind his desk, staring intently at the boy before him. Harry was a delicious sight. The older man could feel his hard cock pulse between his thighs, and he had to resist the urge to rub his hand against it to relieve some of the pressure that was building.“I’m sorry Professor, I was in the bathroom,” Harry said in a soft voice, looking at his Professor apologetically.Snape raised an eyebrow. “And whatever could you have been doing to take so long, Miss Potter? Powdering your nose, from the looks of it. You weren’t wearing make-up during class today,” he said. Harry nodded, admitting that he had indeed been applying make-up. Snape smirked.“Tell me, why would you put on make-up before coming to a detention, Miss Potter? Surely you weren’t expecting to meet someone afterward, as it will be quite late when I’m through with you and students aren’t allowed to roam the halls at night,” Snape said, rising from his chair to walk around his desk. He looked at Harry as he leaned to sit on the edge of the wooden desk. Harry didn’t answer. He merely looked at the floor and toed the carpet with his pretty little dress shoe as he clasped his hands behind his back, feigning embarrassment and shyness.“Were you painting your face for me, Miss Potter?” Snape asked, crossing his arms. Harry stopped toeing the floor and looked up to meet his Professor’s gaze. He blushed, then nodded. “Yes sir,” he said shakily.“Trying to seduce a professor? That is very naughty of you Miss Potter. I believe you need to be punished...” He trailed off. Harry widened his eyes as he pretended to be frightened.“W-what are you going to do, Professor?” He asked shrilly, unclasping his hands behind his back to bring them in front of himself to toy with his skirt.Snape’s eyes hungrily traveled the length of Harry’s body, causing the younger man to shiver. “Come here, Potter,” Snape motioned with his hand. Harry shyly walked toward the older man with shuffling steps, only making eye contact when he stopped in front of the desk to stand beside Snape. Snape smirked evilly. “What are you going to do, Professor?” Harry asked again.Snape brought a hand up to his face, rubbing his lip thoughtfully with his forefinger as he stared at Harry. “Miss Potter... you’ve been very bad. First that little display of raising your skirt to me before leaving class today, then applying the make-up in an attempt to seduce me. I’m afraid you know what I’m going to, what I must do, Miss Potter. You deserve no less than a spanking...” Harry’s breath hitched at the older man’s words. He always did like the spankings. Sev was pulling out all the stops today. It was all he could do to keep from breaking character and ravish the older man on the spot.“Yes, Professor,” Harry said, trying to sound frightened. He looked up at Snape with tears in his eyes. He was a very good actor. He felt vulnerable dressed this way, and Snape seemed much more intimidating than usual. This all helped him to stay in character. It was all so exciting.“Now, now, Miss Potter,” Snape began as he brought a hand up to caress Harry’s cheek soothingly. “It will be over soon, just be a good girl and accept your punishment. If you do what I say I promise it won’t hurt too terribly,” he said and Harry nodded.“Now, bend over the desk,” Snape commanded. Harry complied, leaning his elbows on the hard wood then laying his head on his folded arms, presenting his skirt clad rear to his professor. He turned his head to the side so that he would be able to see the older man in action.Snape lifted up Harry’s skirt. “My, my, Miss Potter,” he tsked. “I doubt that these lacy panties are school regulation. I can’t have you breaking dress code by wearing such provocative under garments,” he said before grasping the panties at either side and ripping them in half. Harry gasped and thrust his hips forward in excitement at Snape’s display of power combined with the cool dungeon air flowing against his heated member. “You know you’ll have to be punished for these, don’t you?” Snape asked as he held the torn panties in front of Harry’s face. “Punishment other than spanking?” He asked. Snape nodded gravely. “I understand, Sir. I’m sorry Sir, I’ll get new ones that follow the dress code,” Harry said apologetically.“That’s a good girl,” Snape said as he lightly caressed Harry’s firm globes. “Are you ready for your punishment then?” He asked. Harry nodded.The first blow made Harry arch his hips forward. Severus never hit hard enough to bruise, but his slaps did turn the skin red and always stung pleasurably. Slap after slap landed on Harry’s naked ass until he was moaning at the feeling of cold air sliding across his overheated and oversensitive skin. Snape finally stopped, then began to caress the bright red skin, running his fingertips over it gently. Harry sighed at the slightly tickling sensation.“That’s a good girl, you took that very well. You should be rewarded,” Harry moaned as Snape dropped to his knees and began placing light kisses on his still stinging cheeks. The older man then darted out his tongue to trace wet circles over the sensitive flesh before forcing its way into the younger man’s crevice. Harry whimpered and spread his legs, allowing Snape to part the twin globes. Severus circled Harry’s entrance with tongue, causing the younger man’s breath to hitch. Snape then began to worm his tongue inside Harry’s hole. Harry couldn’t stop moaning as he felt that slick muscle forcing its way into his entrance coupled with the hot breath on his sensitive skin. He cried out and nearly lost balance when he felt Snape wrap long fingers around his leaking cock. Snape stroked him a few times before pulling his hands and mouth away completely. Harry protested at the loss of delicious contact.“Miss Potter, are you ready for the next part of your punishment?” Snape asked. He was so painfully hard from watching the younger man writhe and moan against his desk, and that delicious ass looked so hot and ready to be taken. He could see Harry’s turgid cock leaking pre-cum and could tell that the younger man was just as excited and eager as he was.“Yes Sir,” Harry said, standing up and pulling his skirt down shyly. “Let’s go in here, then,” Snape motioned to his bedroom. Harry followed, smiling at the older man’s back. He was so hard and his cock was tenting the front of his skirt. Snape turned around to face Harry when he reached the bed, and he too noticed the tented skirt. The older man shivered at the delicious sight Harry made, make-up enhancing his delicate, beautiful face and the uniform showing off his beautiful, long legs, making him appear frail and feminine. His cock ached with the need to be inside the boy, but he reminded himself that they weren’t finished. “Onto the bed, on all fours,” Snape commanded. Harry crawled onto the bed, making sure to wiggle his ass in the air. He heard Snape groan softly. He moved to rest on his hands and knees. “Tell me, Miss Potter... do you ever touch yourself when you think of me?” He asked, moving to sit down next to Harry on the bed. Harry turned his head to look at his professor.“Oh yes Sir, all the time,” Harry answered innocently. The boy pulled the innocent look off effortlessly, though Snape knew that he was anything but innocent. The innocent act never failed to drive him crazy with lust, though.“Show me how you touch yourself,” Snape commanded softly. “Alright Sir,” Harry replied with a shy smile. He slid one hand down his chest, caressing one of his nipples through his shirt before moving down to pull up his skirt. He wrapped a hand around his throbbing shaft and began to pump slowly, still looking into Snape’s eyes. “I do it like this sir,” he said. He moved his hand down from his cock to briefly caress his sac before moving it back up to continue fisting his hard member. He began to thrust his hips forward into his hand as he moaned, knowing that it would turn the older man on. Snape fairly whimpered at the sight and brought his hand up to press against the hardness that bulged in his pants. Harry watched this and started stroking faster, opening his mouth slightly as he gasped for air.“Do you touch yourself anywhere else?” Severus asked. Harry smiled and nodded excitedly. Snape moved around behind Harry so that he could see his ass. “Show me where you touch yourself,” he commanded. Harry spread his legs wider and moved his hand from his cock to his entrance. Snape raised the skirt up to lay it on Harry’s back so he could see the boy’s fingers slip between the still pink cheeks. Snape summoned a tube of lubricant and squeezed a large dallop on the questing fingers and Harry lightly circled his entrance before gently pressing the tip of his finger into himself. He heard his lover’s breath quicken, and he smiled to himself.“How is that, Professor?” He asked shyly. “That’s lovely... very lovely,” Snape answered and Harry felt a warm hand momentarily brush against his naked ass, caressing him lovingly before moving away. Harry moaned as he pressed two fingers into himself, slowly moving them in and out and making scissoring motions. Soon he was panting as he added a third finger.“Turn around, I want to see you,” Snape commanded. Harry complied and moved to lie on his back as Severus placed pillows under his hips to prop him up, allowing the older man a better view of his entrance. “Do you ever use one of these?” Snape asked, pulling a vibrator from beneath one of the pillows and holding it up for Harry to see. Harry had indeed used one of those many times, but he decided that it would be interesting if his character hadn’t, so he shook his head. “I’ve only used my fingers, Sir.”Snape smiled. “May I use it on you? I think you will like it very much... It feels very good,” he said, smiling. Harry nodded. “Please do, Professor,” he said eagerly. Snape smiled as he spread lubricant on the vibrator.“Here, lift your knees up like this,” Snape instructed, pulling Harry’s knees up to his chest to expose the boy’s stretched entrance. “There’s a good girl,” he whispered. He placed the vibrator to Harry’s slick hole and pushed it in gently. Harry moaned and brought his hands under his knees to pull his legs higher. Once the vibrator was in all the way, Snape turned it on. Harry gasped at the sensation, then whimpered as the older man began to pull it out slowly before pushing it back in. He quickened the pace and Harry began writhing as Snape continuously hit his prostate with the vibrating toy. “Here,” Snape said taking one of Harry’s hands and placing it on the vibrator. “You take over, I want to watch,” he whispered as he moved back on the bed to lean against a bedpost. Harry resisted the urge to touch his cock as Snape unbuttoned and unzipped his pants to pull them and his boxers down his thighs, freeing his pulsing member. Harry licked his lips hungrily as he stared at the large, angry red phallus. It looked so delicious with its head glistening with the man’s pre-cum. Harry loved the way its length filled his mouth, the way it was so wide and filled him perfectly when Snape fucked him.Snape watched intently as Harry began pushing the vibrator into himself. “Professor, this does feel very good,” he declared as he looked at his lover through half lidded eyes. “Move it in and out, it will feel better,” Snape offered, bringing one had up to wrap around his member. Harry began to move the vibrator in and out of himself as he watched Snape pleasure himself. He moaned loudly as he angled the vibrator to hit his prostate again and he began to pump it in and out faster. Snape squeezed his throbbing cock as he watched Harry fuck himself with the vibrator.Harry’s movements continued to speed up and he was beginning to pant and moan loudly. “Oh god,” he moaned. “It feels so good,” his head moved from side to side. “Severus, I’m so close,” he ground out through clenched teeth. He knew he was breaking character, but he wanted to warn Severus. He didn’t want to come unless the man was inside him, but he couldn’t stop.Snape understood the warning and sat up, pulling the vibrator out of Harry’s entrance and bringing the young man’s legs up to rest on his shoulders. He hoped the younger man wouldn’t accidently jerk his foot against his head, because he was still wearing his dress shoes. Snape pushed Harry’s shirt up then moved his hands down to grasp the boy’s hips before positioning himself to sink into the welcoming hole. He slid in without much resistence, Harry already being lubed and stretched from the vibrator. He looked down at Harry and a low moan escaped his parted lips as their eyes met. The boy felt so tight and hot and slick, and he looked utterly decadent and beautiful from his tousled hair to the make-up on his face and the skirt hitched high above his thighs.“God, you’re so fucking incredible,” Snape said in a breathy whisper as he leaned down to capture Harry’s lips with his own. Harry opened his mouth and moaned loudly into the kiss, forcing his tongue against Snape’s as he savagely kissed the older man. He brought his hands up to weave them in the other man’s inky black hair. Snape thrust deeply once and Harry came in thick, heavy spurts with a low, long groan.Severus held still until Harry finished. Harry opened his eyes and grinned sheepishly. “Tsk, tsk,” Severus said. “You need to learn some control, Harry,” he said, smiling slightly. “Oh bugger off. You know I’ll be hard again in no time. Go ahead, keep at it,” Harry said. Snape laughed and began to thrust his hips gently, angling himself to hit Harry’s prostate. Harry hissed through clenched teeth. True to his word, the younger man’s cock started to stir. A few more thrusts from Severus and it was completely hard again.“Fuck me harder,” he whispered, as he pressed his mouth against Severus’. Severus complied, speeding up his thrusts and grunted with the effort. He placed a hand on either side of Harry’s head to steady himself, then he began to thrust in earnest. Harry moaned wildly as the force of the older man’s thrusts caused them to break their kiss.“Oh God yes, just like that,” Harry’s hands moved from Snape’s hair to the grasp the man’s upper arms. Sounds of flesh slapping against flesh were drowned by the harsh panting of both men as Severus pumped himself into Harry’s tight hole.“You like that, don’t you? Pulling up your skirt for me to fuck your tight little hole...” Snape said through clenched teeth as he pounded into Harry so hard that the younger man was being pushed toward the headboard. Harry moved his arms above his head to keep himself from hitting the wood. Harry felt that there was just something that was so incredibly hot about being pounded into the mattress while they were both clothed. He opened his eyes and marveled at the powerful, straining muscles of the older man that he could see even through his shirt.Harry screamed in ecstasy as Snape grasped his weeping cock and began to pump it as furiously as he was pumping himself into the boy’s body. Harry threw his head back, his sweat dampened hair clinging to his face. Moisture leaking from his eyes caused his eyeliner and mascara to streak.He felt the intense pleasure building as his sac tightened. “Oh fuck! Oh Severus!” He screamed as he coated himself and the other man’s hand with his ejaculate. Severus, if possible, thrust even faster and harder before groaning. “So good...” he choked out as he snapped his hips against Harry’s ass a final time before filling the younger man with his seed. He was completely still for a moment before pulling out of Harry to fall beside him on the bed. Harry stretched out his legs and sighed contentedly as he rolled over on his side to rest his head on the other man’s still clothed chest.“That was very good,” Harry said. “M.m.,” Snape agreed. “You were delicious,” He said, turning his head to look into his lover’s eyes. Harry smiled. “I never would have guessed you were so kinky,” Harry said. Severus looked worried for a moment. “Did you really like it, Harry?” He asked. Harry smiled brightly. “I loved it Severus! It was brilliant,” he said reassuringly. Severus smiled.Harry pushed his skirt off then sat up to take off his shoes, socks, and shirt. He lay back down next to his lover and sighed. “That’s better,” he said as he murmured a cleaning charm to get the make-up off his face. Severus too sat up to unclothe himself, then lay back down next to Harry, wrapping his arms around him.“When do I get to be on top?” Harry asked. Severus propped himself up on an elbow to look down at Harry. “When you show some self-control. I’ll not have some inexperienced teenager groping me then climaxing before I get off. I had enough of that when I was a teenager,” he said, raising an eyebrow.“I do too have self control!” Harry retorted angrily.“Really?” Severus asked sarcastically. “I seem to recall you blowing a load as soon as I penetrated you...” he said with a smirk. Harry’s cheeks reddened and he opened his mouth to say something, only to find that he couldn’t think of anything, so he closed it. Then opened it again, thinking that surely something would come out this time, only to close it again when his brain and vocal chords couldn’t produce something witty.“If you’re quite finished imitating a fish...” Severus joked, but was interrupted by Harry who finally managed to think of an excuse.“I was in the heat of the moment and I had been over stimulated. No one could have lasted long in that situation!” Harry said. Snape sighed and shook his head. “Harry, if you couldn’t last long with that how long do you think you’re going to last the first time you take me?” He asked. “Besides,” he continued, “You can’t even go more than a few days without jumping me, that shows that you don’t have a lot of self-control” he said.Harry glared. “You’re the one that can’t go more than a few days without jumping me,” he said. Severus sat up, shaking his head. “No, you’re the insatiable one,” he said, feeling an argument coming on. Harry glared. “I bet I could last as long as you any day if I really tried,” Harry said petulantly.“I have an idea then,” Severus said. “A test of sorts...” he continued, seeing if Harry would rise to the bait. True to his Gryffindor courage and curiosity, he did. “What do you mean?” he asked.“We go two weeks without sexual intercourse,” he said. Harry began to protest, but Severus cut him off. “You can masturbate. I wouldn’t take that away from you. I’d hate to see some poor sod get hexed to bits because you were sexually frustrated. I know who strung out you can get when you don’t get anything,” he said. Harry seemed to calm down a bit.“This will prove that I have more self-control, when you give in of course. If I, for some unlikely reason, give in, you will top me. However, if I win, you will have to wait until after you graduate, at which point we will have more time to work on your self-control,” he finished.“I accept your bet. I’ll win, no problem,” Harry said, lifting his chin into the air arrogantly. Severus laughed. “Well then, I think we should start now. No sex for two weeks,” he said, then caught sight of the clock.“Be glad that it’s a Friday night... you best be going back to your dorm room now, it’s almost four in the morning,” Severus said. Harry looked at him before asking “We can still kiss, right?” Severus nodded.“Does sex include fellatio and giving each other hand jobs and things like that?” Harry asked. “Yes,” Snape replied. “We can’t get each other off. We can kiss, hug, cuddle, and touch ourselves, but beyond that, we can’t bring each other to orgasm by physically touching one another.”The Slytherin half of Harry’s mind was already trying to look for loopholes and ways to make his lover crack. He assured himself with a smile that he would, but for now he was quite tired. He went into the bathroom to change back into his other clothes. When he came back into the bedroom to say goodbye to Severus, he leaned over the bed and caught the other man’s lips with his in a hot, passionate kiss that left them both panting. He made sure that the only part of himself that touched the other man was his lips as he peppered small, sweet kisses on his lover’s face. Snape smiled.“Off with you before someone wakes up and gets suspicious,” the older man kissed Harry’s cheek lightly. Harry smiled and walked into the living room, donning his invisibility cloak before leaving his lover’s suite to go back to his shared dorm room.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Day SixHarry sat in Potions class, smirking as Severus shouted down yet another student who proceeded to run from the room crying.“AND TEN POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR FOR LEAVING CLASS EARLY AND WITHOUT PERMISSION!” Snape bellowed, and with a swish of robes he turned from the door to face the remaining students who were all staring wide eyed and afraid at their irate professor.“Well? GET TO WORK!” He shouted as he stalked to the front of the class, a billowing storm cloud of black. Harry fancied that he could almost even see lightning flashing from him. Harry smiled again. He knew that he should be irritated at the loss of house points, but it really was too funny.Their lack of sex was having its toll on the other man. Snape had been a right pain in the behind before they got together, but it seemed that their relationship had mellowed him out. Now, however, when they had stopped having sex due to a bet, Snape was worse than ever before. It made Harry feel all warm and tingly inside to know that he had such power of the man and his happiness. It also made him horny as hell.He was trying to calm his libido when Snape came stalking toward at a slow pace with an unreadable expression on his face. Snape came to a halt at Harry’s cauldron. Harry shifted in his seat, pulling back enough to let Snape see the bulge in his pants, hoping to snap the other man’s self-control.Snape’s eyes traveled from Harry’s face down his body to rest on the telltale bulge. He stared for a good, long moment with narrowed eyes. It seemed as though the older man’s breath had even sped up a bit. He reminded Harry of Lupin during the time before a full moon when he hadn’t been able to take his Wolfsbane potion... feral, powerful, and more than a little frightening. Harry felt his cock harden even more. He smiled.“Pray tell, Mister Potter... just what is it that you find so amusing? What, in my class, could be so amusing as to make you smirk? Am I amusing?” Snape asked in a low, threatening voice.Harry knew a good opportunity when he saw one. His smirk widened. “Why yes, Professor Snape... you are exactly what I find to be amusing.”Snape’s eyes flashed and his nostrils flared. To anyone else the professor looked infuriated, but to Harry he looked half mad with lust. Well, he would have looked infuriated to Harry as well, if it weren’t for the fact that Harry could see the enormous bulge in the other man’s pants that was pointing at him at the moment.“Class dismissed, except for Mister Potter who will have detention for the rest of the day since this is his last class!” Snape’s voice was loud and booming, but Harry detected a slight quavering in it. The students all but ran out of the room, huffing loud sighs of relief. Many of them shot Harry sympathetic glances. He tried his best to look sullen.When the last student filed out Snape waved his wand at the door, slamming it shut and locking it with a silent spell. Harry also heard him mutter a silencing charm. Harry felt his cheeks flush with excitement as his blood thrummed through his veins. Surely Snape would give in now, after six days. Six days of sheer torture, of not feeling those delicious, long fingered hands all over his body, inside his body. Six days of not hearing that velvety voice utter words of passion and sighs brought about by orgasmic release. Six days of not having that big, fat cock pounding him ruthlessly into the mattress of that wonderful king-sized bed.Snape had damn well better give in today.Harry’s train of thought was broken as the other man cleared his throat. Harry looked to the front of the room where Snape stood leaning against his desk, staring at the younger man like a wolf watching a lamb. Harry shivered and stood up, mimicking his lover by leaning against his own students’ desk.“Come on Severus, don’t you think that it’s time we end this bet?” Harry asked, bringing his hand up to loosen his necktie while watching Snape. Snape stood silent for a moment, staring at Harry’s neck where the hand lingered.“Only if you admit defeat,” he said, eyes meeting Harry’s own. Harry sighed dramatically. “That’s not the answer I wanted...” He said quietly, trailing his hand from his throat to the front of his pants. He opened his robes and unbuttoned his pants slowly, watching every breath his lover took. Snape had somehow managed to school his expression into one of impassiveness, but Harry knew how to tease. Harry knew how he loved it when he touched himself in front of the older man. Harry slowly slid one hand inside his open pants as he pushed his pants and boxers down his thighs with the other hand. His cock, freed from its confines, stood angry red and erect, almost touching his stomach. He wrapped his hand around and moved his thumb to massage its head. He stared at Snape through half-lidded eyes, watching the older man’s reaction.“You said we couldn’t touch each other, but you never said that we couldn’t touch ourselves...” Harry said breathily and thrust his cock into his hand to emphasize his point. He leaned further against the desk and brought a hand up to steady himself. He started to move his hand against his shaft, slowly, occasionally reaching down to fondle his balls. He could hear Snape’s quickened breathing.“Why don’t you touch yourself like I am? It feels really good, love.” Harry said as he quickened his stroking a little. Snape moaned.“God I love your voice, have I told you that?” Harry asked.“Only about a million times...” Snape said quietly.“I bet I could orgasm just from your voice, I really think we should try it sometime,” Harry moaned. “You’re going to get what’s coming to you, you little tease.” Snape said, his voice low and husky as he moved one of his hands to rub his erection through his robes and pants. Harry smiled and squeezed himself a little harder. “Oh, I very much hope so, love.” He was now moving his hand faster, thrusting into it. He could see Snape squeeze himself through his layers of clothing. Soon Harry was crying out as his orgasm shook his body. He heard Snape swear quietly, and he opened his eyes to see his lover leaning forward slightly, eyes closed as his hand rapidly rubbed the erection bulging in his pants. Harry moaned with quiet pleasure as the other man’s hand slowed down and he saw the loveliest wet spot seeping through his pants. If Harry hadn’t orgasmed before, he certainly would now as he stared at his panting lover, covered in his own semen. He felt that Snape was so amazing beautiful and erotic and everything that he could ever want. This silly bet really did have to end soon, but at the moment Harry’s pride wouldn’t allow him to end it.Tucking himself back into his pants and buttoning all of his undone buttons, he walked up to his still panting lover and planted a chaste kiss on the side of his cheek. Snape opened his eyes and half heartedly glared at the younger man.“I take it detention is over,” Harry smiled. “See you at dinner.” He delivered another chaste kiss, this time lightly on Snape’s lips. He drew back and waved his wand at the door, unlocking it. He turned around and walked out the door without looking back, smiling to himself, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Snape gave in.Snape watched his young lover leave, a plan already forming in his mind. “Likes my voice, does he?” He asked himself quietly. “I shall have to put his theory on whether or not he can orgasm from it to use.”Snape smirked to himself. He did indeed have quite a brilliant plan forming. He would make Harry lose control, no doubt about it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Will you two stop your inane prattling!” Harry shouted at Ron and Hermione, earning a disapproving glare from Madam Pince and shocked stares from the other students in the library. Ron and Hermione gaped at him for a moment.“What’s crawled up your arse and died?” Ron asked, regaining his speech. Harry merely grumbled and looked darkly as he stabbed at his parchment with his quill, creating angry ink blots.“Yes Harry, that’s hardly any way to talk to your friends,” Hermione chastised. Harry’s only response was to grumble even more vehemently. Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.“Maybe you should get laid mate, I know that always improves my mood. OW!” Ron exclaimed loudly as Hermione kicked him forcefully.“Will you three quiet down!” Madam Pince hissed. Ron and Hermione looked at her apologetically while Harry only continued to grumble and stab his paper.“Ron, that was very uncouth of you. What have I told you about discussing our... intimate relationship? If you’re going to talk about it with Harry, at least have the courtesy to do it while I’m not here. It’s very embarrassing!”Harry rose quickly from his chair, almost knocking it over. He gathered his things in a rush, ignoring the bewildered looks that Ron and Hermione shot at him. He had to get out of the library, away from them. He had to get away from everyone, actually. He felt the need to wank overtaking him again. He needed somewhere private. He’d already wanked twice earlier in the day, but it wasn’t as good as being with Severus.Ron was right; he DID need to get laid.Harry stormed out of the library and made his way to the Gryffindor tower. He barked out the password to the Fat Lady before she could even ask, then proceeded to rush up the stairs and into his shared dorm room. He could have wailed in frustration when he saw that Neville, Dean, and Seamus were all in the room playing a game of Exploding Snap. It was only 4:00 in the evening so he couldn’t very well say that he was going to bed. Even if he were to say he was taking a nap, even if he were to close the curtains around his bed and cast a silencing charm, he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate, knowing that they were awake in the same room. He glared darkly at them before exiting the room, his robes swishing with a dramatic, angry flair.The only place that he could think of would be Severus’ room. He pondered a moment, wondering if it were too soon to see the other man. It had, after all, been only one full day since his last attempt to seduce his lover. He didn’t want to seem desperate.Dammit, he was desperate! He made his way to the dungeons as he decided that he would once again try to seduce Snape. He would pull out all the stops if he had to. He would strip of all his clothes, break out the vibrator, chain Snape to the bed and force the older man to watch him as he masturbated himself raw. It sounded like a damn fine plan.He stopped in a little alcove and looked around to make sure that no one was about. Unzipping his backpack, he pulled out his invisibility cloak and wrapped it around himself. He was sure that there would be Slytherins about and he didn’t want to start any rumors about how he would be seen visiting his supposed arch enemy. He and Snape had decided to divulge their relationship to anyone until after Harry graduated. Of course the Headmaster knew. How could he not? The damn man knew everything.Harry tromped his way through the dungeons and looked about before muttering the password that opened the portrait that led to his lover’s rooms. Once the door was securely shut behind him, Harry yanked off his invisibility cloak and began to rip off his clothes.“Immobulus...” Harry heard a dark chuckle as he began to fall. He tried to flail his arms to stop himself, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. He almost panicked until he felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around him. He moved his eyes around until he saw Snape looking down at him, smiling darkly.“Ah love, I see that you came with the intention to tease me again...” Snape stated, staring deeply into Harry’s eyes. Harry knew the man was a master occlumens, and he did nothing to hide the images that flitted around his mind... images of Snape tied to the bed while Harry fucked himself with the vibrator. Snape smiled as he waved a hand over Harry’s groin area and whispered a few words that Harry couldn’t make out.“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have a little plan of my own. I wanted to try a little experiment, you see...” he said, his voice deep and seductive. Harry felt his heart speed in its pumping, wondering what Snape had done to him when he waved his hand over his crotch. “Afraid?” Snape raised an elegant eyebrow as he bent to lick Harry’s throat. Harry soon realized what the unheard spell was as he felt blood rush to his cock. Snape had removed part of the Immobulus spell from his groin area, allowing his member to move about.Harry concluded that this turn of events, though unexpected, was very interesting. Perhaps Snape would give in and fuck him.Snape chuckled and carried Harry to the bedroom. He propped Harry up at the head of the bed, moving his limbs about until he was in a sitting position. Snape then lifted Harry’s arms above his head and tied his arms with silken ropes that looped through metal rings on the headboard. He then waved his hand over Harry’s upper body and whispered same spell as before, removing the Immobulus charm, leaving Harry immobile from the waist down. Snape then moved around to the foot of the bed and sat down, facing Harry. Harry mentally gasped as he saw that the older man wasn’t wearing any clothes at all. Snape smirked and spread his legs wide, giving Harry a delicious view of his beautiful manhood.“See anything you like?” Snape asked, tilting his head to the side. Harry whimpered and nodded his head enthusiastically.Snape slowly dragged his hand up the length of his impressive member, pausing to massage the head between his thumb and forefinger. “You like watching me touch myself, don’t you Harry?” Snape asked, his voice seductively dripping sex, more delicious and sticky than honey and hot enough to melt butter, ice cream, and all other meltable things. Harry knew he’d be in trouble if Snape hadn’t cast the Immobulus charm on him and tied him down. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself if he were able to move.Snape reached down and picked up a jar of lubricant that he had placed on the floor beside the bed. Harry’s cock twitched. Snape getting out the lubricant could only mean that he was giving in. Oh how Harry wished he could spread his legs to allow his lover better access. He would, of course, let Severus fuck him into the mattress first, then remind that man that since he gave in, Harry would get to top.Snape dipped two fingers into the jar of lubricant and gave Harry a seductive smile. Harry felt his heart beat quicken as Snape withdrew his fingers from the jar. This was it... Snape was going to give in as soon as he inserted those delicious fingers into Harry’s tight hole.Snape, however, made no move toward Harry.Harry’s eyes widened considerably when he realized what Snape was up to. Snape smirked evilly, knowing that Harry had finally figured it out.Snape lifted up his hips as he slid a pillow underneath himself, propping himself up to give Harry a better view of his hidden treasure. Snape began to slide a lubricated finger into himself, sighing happily as he did so. He slowly began to move it in and out.Harry felt as though he were going to go insane with lust. Snape smiled seductively.“Don’t you wish this was your finger, Harry?” He asked in that oh-so-sexy voice. “Don’t you wish that it was you preparing me, sliding your fingers in and out, making me ready for your cock?” He purred.“I know you’ve never been inside anyone... I was your first. You have no idea how amazing it feels! Bottoming is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world, but being encased in tight, hot flesh is an altogether different experience. And I would be tight, you know... It’s been so long since I’ve had a proper fucking.” Harry was enthralled as he watched Snape insert the other lubed finger. Harry looked from the tantalizing hole to his lover’s face. Snape was watching him with a cool and steady expression, his head still somewhat cocked to the side, allowing silky strands of black hair to spill across his neck and cheek.Harry was distracted from his lover’s face when he saw Snape reach down to pick something else from the floor. When the man brought his hand back up, Harry felt himself grow impossibly harder when he saw what his lover was holding.Severus held the vibrator up as if inspecting it, then looked to Harry. “It’s been a while since I’ve used one of these... I do remember how exquisite they feel, though.”Snape turned on the vibrator then began to lube it up, all the while never taking his eyes off of Harry. Despite his seemingly cool demeanor, Snape was fighting his own internal battle. Harry looked entirely too good tied to his bed, pupils dilated with lust, breath coming in short, shallow pants. Snape was on the brink of removing the Immobulus charm and taking his young lover, even if it meant losing the bet.Losing wouldn’t be that bad. He didn’t mind at all that Harry was inexperienced. He knew the boy was a fast learner and after a few tries he would perfect the act of topping, but Snape liked to get under Harry’s skin. He had mostly instigated the bet just to tease the boy... but now that it had started, he really didn’t want to lose. Harry would be insufferable for the following weeks if he allowed him to win.Making sure that his lover was watching, Severus slowly inserted the vibrator into himself, watching Harry’s face. Harry’s eyes widened and his breathing became even more erratic. He had never seen Severus penetrate himself with anything. Watching his lover impale himself on Harry’s favorite toy was probably one of the most erotic things Harry had ever seen. “Oh God...” Harry moaned, his eyes squeezing shut.“No love, open your eyes. I want you to watch me...” Severus whispered in a breathy voice. Harry’s eyes snapped open. The vibrator was now all the way in. Severus stopped for a moment to enjoy the feeling of being slightly filled by the delicious toy. He moaned as he pulled it out a couple of inches before pushing it back in with a little more force.“Harry, it feels so good!” He licked his lips and stared into Harry’s eyes, which were riveted on the vibrator now moving in and out of his ass.“It’s a lot smaller than you, but it still feels good. I can only imagine how amazing it would feel to have you inside me, filling me to the point of bursting,” Severus’ voice was melting Harry’s body yet making his cock ache. His voice must hold some sort of magic, Harry couldn’t help but think. Severus had the power to make his voice tangible. That was it. Every time Severus spoke, his voice wrapped around Harry’s aching member and caressed him. It was the only explanation. That voice was a weapon that would drive him into lust-filled insanity.“Are you imagining that this is you inside of me?” Severus asked. Harry moaned, wishing he could at least move his legs or something. “I am... I’m imagining that you’re moving inside of me, that you’re on top of me, over me, IN me. I’m thinking of how beautiful your face is during the throes of lust and passion. I’m imagining you taking me, Harry... I’m imagining you in control.”It was unbearable. Harry felt as if he were about to explode.“I’m imagining myself submitting to you...” Even though Snape’s words came out as a whisper, they thundered in Harry’s ears, echoed in his mind, and shot straight to his desperate cock.He did explode.“God, Severus!” Spurt after heavy spurt shot from his untouched penis. Harry watched through half-lidded eyes as Severus continued to fuck himself with the vibrator, his thrusts now becoming less and less calculated. The older man was incredibly turned on, knowing that he could indeed make his lover orgasm without physical provocation.Harry continued to watch as Severus neared completion, pumping the vibrator into himself with one hand as he pumped his cock with the other. Harry decided that it was, in fact, the hottest thing he had ever seen, and if he hadn’t already orgasmed he would have done so now. His penis, though spent, twitched in interest.“Fuck!” Severus came, the hand on the vibrator stilled though the hand on his burgeoning member continued to pump, squeezing out his essence. When the last of it spilled onto his abdomen, he leaned back against the bed post, spent. He didn’t bother taking the vibrator out, as he was enjoying the slight hum against his prostate at the moment.Finally he looked at Harry, who desperately looked as though he needed a good, long cuddling. Severus pulled the vibrator out, murmured a cleaning charm over it, himself, and Harry, then took the Immobulus charm completely off of his young lover and spelled the ropes away.“That was fucking hot!” Harry exclaimed as he launched himself into Severus’ arms. Severus chuckled and held Harry to him as he ran a hand through the younger man’s silken hair. He then leaned down to place a firm kiss on Harry’s lips.“Glad you liked it...” he whispered. Harry shuddered, once again thinking that he would *never* grow tired of hearing that voice. Severus pulled Harry back to the head of the bed, pulled back the blankets, then crawled under them, pulling Harry with him. Harry happily snuggled against his lover’s chest, and Severus happily wrapped an arm around him. They were both drifting off when Harry suddenly spoke.“Why did you immobilize me? If you hadn’t, I probably would have jumped you and ended the bet...”Severus smiled at him. “I didn’t want the game to end so soon. I’ll crack you eventually... Today I was merely playing out my revenge for the stunt you pulled in my potions classroom. Believe me, next time I will not be so considerate. You, my love,” Severus leaned down to kiss Harry’s forehead, “will lose.” He smirked. Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Snape, not convinced of the other man’s words.“That’s what you think...” he muttered before falling into a peaceful sleep as he snuggled against his lover.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“Detention, Potter!” Snape growled fiercely as he glided to stand in front of the boy. Harry looked up and met the older man’s gaze. The unbridled lust he saw in the man’s eyes told him that this detention would be different from his previous detention earlier in the week. Harry smiled knowingly to himself before replacing his smile with the mask of anger and contempt that was expected of him.“Why, Sir? I didn’t do anything!” He protested. This was expected of him too. Snape’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at his student.“Because I said so! And you will receive an extra hour of detention tonight for questioning me!” His voice raised. “Keep it up and I will give you two detentions...” the professor promised. Harry feigned outrage, but inwardly he was smirking wickedly.“Whatever,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “But I know that I didn’t do anything,” he added as soon as Snape’s back was turned. As soon as the words left his lips the older man halted seemingly in mid-stride. “Two detentions it is then, Potter,” he said coldly without looking back.This time the smirk almost reached Harry’s lips. He had been wondering how long it would take for the other man to give in. It had been a little over a week since their last encounter, and Harry was aching for his lover. There had been several times when he had almost caved in and ravished the man on the spot. A week was the longest that they couple had gone without getting each other off in one way or another since they had started sleeping together. Harry shivered in anticipation. He knew tonight would be very good, considering that both he and Snape were both full of pent up energy.Snape looked at the clock as he reached his desk. Thank Merlin that this was the last class of the day. The sooner it was over, the sooner he’d be encased in Potter’s tight, hot ass. Surely Harry would give up on this insane bet.“Class dismissed,” he said tersely. He saw the gleam of lust in Harry’s eyes as the younger man walked past. “I’ll see you for detention, Potter,” he said. To anyone else that statement would have seemed threatening, but for Harry it was very promising. As promising as the bulge he saw tenting his professor’s trousers as he walked past the man’s desk.“If you’re late,” Snape started and Harry stopped before walking through the door, “I will give you three days of detention,” the older man said suggestively.“Understood,” He smiled.~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@Harry hurried to the Moaning Myrtle’s abandoned bathroom, brushing off Ron and Hermione. He ignored their curious glances and inquiries. He didn’t have time for their questions! Tonight was the night he would make Snape give in. Potions class was the last class of the day, so Harry would barely have time to get things ready. He would have to skip dinner, but that would be alright.Entering the bathroom, harry took several pouches out of his pocket and dumped their contents on the floor as he sat cross legged. He enlarged them, revealing the items to be a cauldron and several ingredients.Harry was going to make a lust potion.He had planned to give it to Dobby with orders to place it in Snape’s drink during detention. The potion’s master almost always had a drink of some sort, and this time it would be no different. He would make the man insane with lust. Snape wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off Harry, and then the bet would end with Harry as the victor.Harry smiled to himself and set to work. Tonight the bet would end and he and Severus would have sex again. He frowned a bit at the thought of cheating, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He was miserable and frustrated and he really wanted to top. He couldn’t give in, but wanking was not the same or as good as a good, long fuck with his lover.Severus was miserable too, he could tell. It was for his own good. For the good of both of them...~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_Severus became suspicious when Harry didn’t appear in the Great Hall during dinner. The boy was up to something, he knew it.He kept looking for Harry the entire time that dinner lasted, but the boy never showed up. Snape finally left the table, heading out of the Great Hall and toward his dungeons. In a couple of hours Harry would have to show up for detention. He would then torture the boy until he told him what he had kept him so occupied that he had to miss dinner, and then he would force him to submit and concede the bet. He had devised the perfect plan. He had brewed quite a potent lust potion that he was going to slip into Harry’s drink, which he would offer to him during detention. Snape had already asked his personal house elf, Wittels, who traveled back and forth from Hogwarts to Snape manor with him, to place the potion in Harry’s drink. He told her to make sure that overzealous house elf who worshiped Harry, or any of the other house elves for that matter, didn’t see her do it. She winked and promised that the job would get done.He smirked. Tonight was the night indeed. Harry would lose and Severus would fuck him raw. He frowned slightly though, feeling a small pang of shame at having to cheat. He had decided that after he made Harry lose, he would surprise the boy by letting him top (after Severus had his way with him first, of course). The only reason Severus didn’t concede himself was because he didn’t think he could stand the gloating from Harry that would ensue. Severus felt that it would be quite an embarrassing blow to his ego, also, to have lost in a contest of self-control with his much younger lover.No matter, Harry would drink the lust potion, Severus would fuck him, then let Harry have his way, and everyone would be happy. Harry quickly made his way through the dungeons toward the potions classroom. He was already five minutes late for his detention, having been delayed by an enthusiastic Dobby. The house elf had agreed to do anything Mister Harry Potter requested of him, no questions asked. Harry smiled gleefully as he arrived at the door to the potions classroom, which he proceeded to open and walk through. He smiled at Snape, who was sitting at his desk, elbows propped on the wood with his chin resting on his folded hands.“You, Mr. Potter, are late,” he said matter-of-factly, raising an elegant eyebrow. Harry grinned cheekily at his lover and batted his eyelashes as he said, “Just powdering my nose, love.” Snape snorted and stood from his chair, walking around his desk until he stood in front of it. He placed his hands behind him and leaned back onto the desk as he gazed speculatively at his young lover. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing with a hand that Harry should sit at the students’ desk directly in front of Snape’s own.Harry smiled slightly as he took his seat, facing Snape. This was going well, he thought. The only problem was figuring out when the best time would be to request that they have a drink. He didn’t want to rouse Snape’s suspicion, since surely the man would be curious already as to why Harry hadn’t been at dinner.Snape pulled up a chair and sat across from Harry. “Why don’t we get the house elves to bring us up a couple of drinks and a few snacks? I’m quite parched, and I didn’t see you at dinner, so you must be a bit hungry, right?” Snape suggested. Harry, who couldn’t believe his luck, nodded eagerly. In a matter of seconds they both had a glass of pumpkin juice and a plate of tasty treats before them.Both Harry and Severus sat staring at one another expectantly, waiting for each to draw a sip from their glass. Harry was starting to feel very nervous, and very ashamed about what he was doing. Severus was looking at him with such a tender expression, and had been so thoughtful to have the house elves bring food up for him. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t cheat his lover like this! If Severus discovered that he had given him a lust potion, which he surely would, his respect for Harry might waver. Harry wouldn’t be able to bear that!Snape was having similar problems. He sighed as he took in Harry’s beautiful, trusting face. He had made a bet with him, and Harry had withstood temptation thus far. It would be so unfair to cheat the boy out of winning when he had worked so hard. Snape began to realize what an adverse effect losing might have on his young lover. It might make him feel weak or inadequate. Frowning, Snape realized that he couldn’t let Harry drink the potion. But how to keep him from drinking it? He hadn’t touched it thus far, but it was only a matter of time. Suddenly, an idea struck him: all he had to do was switch their glasses! He would consume the lust potion and lose the bet. It was a brilliant plan. Now he only had to think of a way to go about switching their drinks...“Oi, your glass is fuller than mine! I haven’t had anything to drink all night, that’s not quite fair,” Harry said, eyeing Snape’s glass. Snape could have danced with joy. “Here love, why don’t we switch then?” Snape said sweetly, switching their glasses.That was almost too easy, Harry thought to himself. Smiling, he picked up his glass and took a sip. Snape smiled back and did the same. They sat for a few minutes, drinking their pumpkin juice and eating their snacks.Harry began to feel a bit hot around the collar. He supposed it was the lust potion. Sighing, he reached up to undo his tie and unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt. He glanced up at Snape to find that his lover staring at his exposed chest intently, pupils dilated somewhat. Harry gave him a confused look. Snape licked his lips. “Are you alright, Sev?” Harry unbuttoned a few more buttons. Damn, he had no idea that lust potions worked like this. His entire body felt so warm and tingly. He began to feel light headed and it felt as though all the blood in his body was going straight to his cock, which was rapidly hardening and tenting his pants. “Severus?” He inquired again when his lover didn’t answer him. Snape dragged his eyes from Harry’s smooth chest to his face, and Harry noticed that the older man’s breathing seemed to be coming in ragged pants. Severus too was becoming unbearably hot. His face was flushed, his skin was on fire. He continued staring at Harry, who seemed to be having the same problem. Then the realization of what was going on hit him.Harry had tried to give him a lust potion too.Severus could have fallen on the floor and rolled with gales of laughter had not his erection been pressing so persistently against his pants, screaming for relief. He stood from his chair and walked around to Harry’s side of the table, yanking the boy from his seat.“Bedroom, now!” He hissed. Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded his head fervently, agreeing completely. Severus dragged him through a door that led to his office and over to the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of powder and stepped over the grate, pulling Harry with him. “Snape’s chambers,” he commanded as he dropped the powder, flooing them into Snape’s living room.The two immediately set about the task of undressing one another, all the while blindly stumbling their way toward Snape’s bedroom. They stopped every second or two to share a hot, desperate kiss and to run starving hands over flushed skin, devouring the feel of each other as the lust potions coursing through both their veins drove them mad with need.Finally, they made it to the bed, naked and panting. Severus pushed Harry down to lie on top of the soft blankets before he proceeded to crawl on top of his young lover, engaging him in another searing kiss. Severus’ mouth ravaged Harry’s, and Harry moaned, arching his body against his lover’s, desperate for physical contact.Harry flipped Severus over and straddled him. Lining up their erections, Harry began to grind against the older man, thrusting needily, eliciting moans from the both of them. Panting, Harry pulled back and grabbed the phial of lubricant from the stand beside the bed.“I need a fucking, and I need it now!” He exclaimed, shoving the tube into Severus’ hand. Severus uncorked it and grabbed Harry’s hand and poured lubricant over Harry’s fingers. Harry smiled.“Kinky, you want to watch me prepare myself? Okay, I’ll do that,” he smiled again, preparing to move into a position that allowed him to finger and stretch himself. Snape grabbed his hips to prevent him from moving.“No, you will prepare me,” he said, moving his hands to caress Harry’s thighs. He smiled at Harry’s bewildered and amazed expression. “What? I was the first to give in. I dragged you here with the intent to have sex. I lost the bet,” he sat up and gently pushed Harry off of him so that he could place a pillow under his own hips. He spread his legs, allowing Harry access to his most delectable of places.This simple act was enough to make Harry want to explode then and there, but he was determined to prove to Severus that he did have control over himself. Harry took deep calming breaths and moved his lubricated hand toward Snape’s hole. He winced embarrassedly when he noticed that his hand was shaking. He looked up at his lover to see if he noticed.Snape indeed had noticed how nervous his young lover seemed to be. “Go on,” he said, smiling encouragingly at Harry, who returned his smile with a shaky one of his own. Harry lightly traced a finger around Severus’ entrance before slowly pushing it inside. Harry bent his head to take Snape’s turgid phallus into his mouth, licking and sucking his lover eagerly. He wanted Severus to receive as much pleasure as he was giving Harry. Severus moaned and thrust his hips into Harry’s hot, wet mouth. He spread his legs wider as Harry inserted another finger. Harry hummed around Severus’ cock, causing the older man to moan and thrust his hips once more. Harry sucked harder and swirled his tongue around his lover’s delicious member as he took all of him into his mouth until his nose was pressed into Severus’ pubic hair and his chin grazed the other man’s heavy sac. Severus gasped and bucked as Harry inserted another finger and moved them about, pumping them in and out slowly.“Fuck!” Severus hissed as Harry’s fingers grazed his prostate. Harry smiled, or at least tried to. It’s quite hard to smile when one’s mouth is full of huge, hard cock. Harry hit his lover’s prostate again and again while sucking on his cock like there was no tomorrow. Snape, his control weakened by the lust potion coursing through his veins and the fact that he hadn’t had this kind of stimulation for over a week, was soon arching his back and crying out loudly, his orgasm wracking his body. Harry continued to milk his member of every last drop until his lover’s tremors subsided, his hand still moving in and out of Severus, albeit a little more slowly now.Finally, when there was no more delicious nectar left to draw from Severus, he pulled his head back and released the man’s now limp penis from his mouth with an audible pop. Severus sighed contentedly and gazed up at Harry, who was still gently pumping his fingers into him.“Are you ready? I’m about to explode!” Harry whined, causing Severus to laugh. Harry looked desperate for release, his muscles straining, his skin flushed, his engorged member leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. “Lust potions will do that to you, love...” Snape smirked. Harry’s eyes widened. “How did you know?!” He asked, stilling his fingers. “If you’re going to stop with your fingers would you at least put your delicious cock inside of me? I know that you tried to give me a lust potion, because I had the same idea.” Snape raised his legs to rest them on top of Harry’s shoulders, giving his young lover better access. Harry groaned as he grasped Snape’s hip with one hand and positioned himself at his lover’s entrance with the other. This was it. He was finally entering his lover for the first time. He slowly pressed in, staring at Severus’ face the entire time to make sure that he wasn’t hurting him. He reached down to fondle Snape’s cock as he gently rocked his hips, moving inch by inch inside the heaven that was Snape’s ass. Harry knew that if he went any faster he would lose his control and embarrass himself. “You’re hard again already?” Harry asked, amazed. Snape snorted. “It’s not that rare of an occurrence, I assure you. What with the lust potion coupled with the eroticism of this situation, how could I not be hard?” Snape moaned. “Could you please hurry it up? I’m not made of glass you know...”“I know, but if I go any faster this won’t last long at all...” Harry ground out, his muscles visibly flexing and straining against the urge to pound Severus into the mattress. Severus suddenly grinned wickedly, and before Harry had the chance to ask why he was giving him such a devious look, Severus tightened his legs around Harry’s shoulders and lifted his arms to brace him against the headboard before pushing himself down onto Harry’s cock, taking him all the way in with one swift movement.Harry groaned loudly and tightened his grip on Severus’ hips, closing his eyes against the glorious sensation of being fully encased by hot, tight, clenching muscle. “Oh... fuck...” he ground out. Severus’ dark, sexy chuckle did nothing to help calm himself down.“Move, Harry, or I’m going to flip us over and ride you,” Severus growled. Harry grinned evilly. If Severus wanted it harder and at a quicker pace, why not indulge him? Snape shouted in delight as Harry pulled almost completely only to slam back in. “Better?” Harry asked, stilling completely to tease his lover. “Yes, and if you don’t do it again I will hex you into oblivion! Or never let you top again... your choice...” he threatened quietly. Harry decided that he would rather be hexed into oblivion than never experience this again. He pulled back and slammed in again, repeating in this fashion until he built up a fast, steady pace, the force of his thrusts pushing Severus up the bed until the older man had to raise his arms to brace himself against the headboard.“Gods, yes, just like that Harry! Harder, if you please, just a little harder, a little faster. Fuck!” Severus was now babbling incoherently as Harry quickened his thrusts, throwing precision and control to the wind, allowing his most primal urges take him over and fuck Severus with all of his heart and soul. Severus was fast approaching his second orgasm as Harry pumped his erection as fast as he viciously stabbed his prostate and rubbed against his inner walls with his incredibly hard and lovely cock.Harry was becoming more and more desperate for release. Severus was moaning incoherently and lifting his hips to meet Harry’s thrusts. Harry began to pump his lover faster, praying that Severus would orgasm soon so that Harry could find release. He didn’t want to come until Severus did. He didn’t have to wait long, as Severus was soon shouting and shooting load after load of semen, coating his own abdomen and Harry’s hand. Harry stared at his lover’s face through half-lidded eyes, panting harshly as he gazed at Severus’ face which he felt was the most beautiful and erotic thing in the world when it was contorted with passion as it was at that moment. Harry’s orgasm slammed into him like a powerful curse, immobilizing him and causing him to shout loudly, shooting his essence into to Snape. Severus continued to contract his anal muscles, milking and prolonging Harry’s orgasm until the boy collapsed on top of him, exhausted from the intense exertion of their lovemaking. They lay basking in post-orgasmic bliss, until Severus noticed that something was not quite right.“Harry, what exactly did you put in your lust potion? Harry started naming off ingredients and Severus mentally checked them over in his head. Everything sounded accurate, then what could cause... wait... “Did you say mandrake root?” Severus asked. Harry nodded.“You dolt! In lust potions that require ingredients from the mandrake, you’re supposed to use the *leaves*, not the roots!” Severus lightly smacked Harry’s arm and laughed. Harry raised his head to look at Severus, panic painting his face. “What’s going to happen to me since I used the root instead of the leaves?” He asked cautiously.Severus thought of playing it off as though some serious, horrible thing would happen, just to teach Harry not to mess around with powerful potions without supervision, but the young man’s distraught face made him feel enough guilt to tell the truth.“Nothing extremely harmful. You will merely have an erection that will last four to six hours...” He said, squeezing his inner muscles around Harry, who was still inside of him. Harry gasped at the sensation.“Four to six hours?” He raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Mr. Potter, you are not fucking me for six hours. After this round, you will relinquish the dominant position to me,” he said sternly. Harry mock pouted. “Am I not any good?” He said, pretending to be hurt as he teasingly rolled his hips, eliciting a gasp from Severus. “You’re better than I care to admit, you impudent whelp,” Snape growled, moving against Harry’s young, hard body. “However,” he continued, “I doubt my ass could take six hours of constant pounding. After you finish this round up, I’m going to take another mild lust potion and have my turn...” He grinned wickedly.Harry smiled. “I guess I better get to work then!” He said cheerily as he began to thrust in earnest. The following day both Harry and Severus were given many curious stares as the two limped about the castle and winced every time they sat down. Severus finally admitted that Harry had an ample amount of self-control, and conceded that he would allow Harry to top often. Harry asked if he could be on top while wearing his school girl outfit, and Severus, thinking the idea sounded erotic, agreed eagerly, though both thought it was a good idea to wait until their behinds didn’t ache so painfully. Harry then asked if they could enlarge his school girl outfit so that Severus could wear it, and Severus, thinking that was a horrible idea, had disagreed vehemently.“I bet I could get you to wear it for me...” Harry said slyly, giving his lover a sideways glance.“You think so?” Severus inquired, raising an elegant eyebrow.“I know so,” Harry smirked.“You’re on.” Severus dared. Harry smiled with glee.THE END!~ ~ ~ Nox Pumilum ~ ~ ~
|
10064852
|
Welcoming the New Year
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Major Character Death",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by harrysotherlove [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2005-12-31T00:00:00",
"words": "471",
"Additional Tags": "Slash, Angst, Tragedy",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": "Harry Potter",
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
He couldn’t take it any more. The constant pain and suffering was hounding him day night. He was growing tired of the war, of his now never ending loneliness and of life. He stared out across the grounds as the sun peaked over the forest. Its light streaking the sky with rays of light pink, purple, and red. They would mourn, those who were left, but he didn’t care. He sighed as once again the faces flashed in front of eyes, each one more contorted with pain the last.Remus, Sirius, The twins, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Draco, and finally Severus. He gasped as the tears he thought he cried out fell once again. He saw his lover, leaping in front of him, the curse ripping to shreds a he looked at Harry one last time before dying. He had lost it in that moment. A fury and desperation he had never known over coming him. He’s not even sure what he had done. All knew was that Voldemort had flung the killing curse at him before erupting into flames and dying. He had woken up three weeks later in the infirmary. Poppy had drugged him heavily before Minerva came him, giving him a run down of those he had lost. He snorted as she gave him her condolences and left the room.That had been two days ago. He dressed and slipped quietly out of the ward while the rest of the world not only celebrated the defeat of Voldemort but prepared to bring in the new year. He had gone to the tower, the last place he had been with Severus and hadn’t moved since. He ran a hand over his face as the sun finally completed its rise over the forest and bathed the world and the new year in its light. Pushing himself from his seat he climbed up on the ledge and looked down and the ground below. With a quick flick of his wrist his wand snapped and fell to the ground below him.“Happy New Year everyone.” He whispered. With a small smile playing across his lips Harry closed his eyes and fell over the ledge, thought of his friends, family, and lover playing in his mind.They found him that night, his body twisted and broken at the bottom of the tower. The world was stunned but those left who truly knew Harry knew not to mourn him, for he was where he wanted to be, in the arms of those he loved most.
A/N
: I know this is rather depressing, but this is my take on New Years. I hope you all enjoy it, and please try not to hate me too much for spoiling what should be a good thing. Heres to hoping your new year is better then mine. ~KaT~
|
10023458
|
Scarlet Street
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Wang So, Hae Soo, Hwangbo Yeon Hwa",
"Fandom": "달의 연인-보보경심 려 | Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by LilyMaxwell",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "9,887",
"Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Noir, Romance",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Wang So/Hae Soo, Hae Soo | Go Ha Jin/Wang So",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“I need you to find out if my boyfriend has another woman.”The young woman's breathing was heavy with anticipation of his answer. He blew the smoke of his cigarette on her face and she barely flinched for one second, coughing and glaring the next.“Leave,” said the private detective, leaning back on his chair. The girl slammed her hands on his desk and he looked from them to her face, arching an eyebrow. “What are you doing right now?”“I’m paying for the services, you can’t tell me to leave!”The detective raised two fingers.“Listen, lady, I won’t be taking your case for two reasons: one, I don’t take infidelity cases, I’ve got better things to do with my time. Two, you can’t afford my services.”“I can!”She meant to reach inside her purse but the detective was up in no time, pulling her up by the arm, not too forcefully but still firmly enough that she stumbled her way towards the exit.“You can’t do this to me, I’m a customer!” Her voice was high and indignant and making him roll his eyes.“Correction, you were a potential customer and now you’re leaving.”He pushed her outside to the reception room, badly lit and with a desk almost completely empty if not for a black phone. The girl stared at the cigarette still on his mouth, probably outraged that she wasn’t even worth his time to put it out. It’d be the first thing she was right about ever since she walked in.“I’ll be calling you, Mr. Wang, I won’t take no for an answer!”“If that’s the way you are with everything then perhaps you don’t need a private detective.”She threw her purse at his face and both it and the cigarette fell to the floor. The detective exhaled angrily and fought the impulse to accidentally step on the girl’s fingers as she crouched to retrieve her purse, settling for stepping on the cigarette butt instead, throwing it in the trash afterwards. When he looked up, he saw the girl looking everywhere on the desk.“What are you doing now?”“I’m looking for a card with your number on it, there was nothing on the newspaper ad.”“There is no number,” he said, and she stared at him like he was an idiot.“What do you mean there’s no number? What does your secretary do all day?”He gestured around with one hand, the other in his pocket.“There is no secretary. Do you see one?”The girl gaped at him.“I assumed... But why?” She stepped closer to him, and to each one of her steps, he took one back. “Did she steal the secrets of one of your cases? Did you fire her because you were in love with her and you were afraid you’d lose your mind?” She gasped. “Was it a man and he fell in love with you?”The detective flicked her on the forehead and she let out a small “ack!”.“I did fire her, but not for any of those absurdities.”“Why then?”He rolled his eyes and started to move back into his office.“Couldn’t afford her.”The girl was stronger than she looked, blocking him from closing the door on her face.“Aha! Then you shouldn’t dismiss any case, should you, Mr. Wang?”He smiled and the young woman smiled back.“You know the way out.”And he closed the door, hearing her whimper outside, she probably lost her balance. He locked it for good measure.“I’ll be back, Mr. Wang!Private Detective Wang So walked to the window, using two fingers to peek through the blinds at the girl who stepped outside his building. White dress wet with rain within minutes, the cars’ lights reflecting on her as she called for a cab. While she drove away, he looked at the dark gray sky and wondered when the worthwhile cases would come. With a sigh, he walked back to his desk, organizing his notes, working on the cases he had. Lost pets. Stolen jewelry. Got to pay the bills, Wang So.
Still not taking an infidelity case from a sixteen-year-old.
He reached for his coffee mug and only noticed it was empty when it was already on his lips.
Ah, I want to go home.
He went shopping for coffee instead.
She came back, again and again and again. One day he arrived at work, his hat in his hand, ready to be placed in its usual hanger, when he noticed she was already there, waiting for him, and he cursed whoever let her in, cursed her and cursed that she spotted him. He turned on his heels regardless, placing his hat back on his head and she followed him for two blocks, talking his ear off while he tried to pretend she wasn’t there. On another day, he opened the door for his client to leave and there she was, bouncing to her feet, the black curls of her hair gracefully falling down her front, the mischievous smile of one who’s dying to say I gotcha. He shut the door before any sound came out of her mouth.“Mr. Wang!” She called from the other side and goddamn it, he was out of cigarettes. “Please hear me out, Mr. Wang!”He opened the door and stormed out, hat on his head, trench coat flapping behind him, climbing down the stairs with her in tow.“I’m not going to stalk high school boys.”“What?” She squeaked. “My boyfriend is not in high school. Neither am I, for that matter!”He hummed in genuine surprise, stepping out in the street.“Well then,” he said, and a ray of hope crossed her features. “I’m still not doing it.”“Please, I—”Wang So stopped in his tracks, the girl colliding with his back.“Listen, Miss Go Ha Jin.” He turned to face her, noticing how big her eyes were, a portrait of innocence. “If you’re suspicious, then ten times out of ten, you’ll be right. Women are not paranoid or overthinkers, they’re perceptive. And men are assholes. If you think he has another woman, then he does. Go with your instincts. Ditch the bastard.”He turned and resumed his walk, no longer hearing her chatter or her footsteps. He never looked back.On his way back to his office, he spotted her by a flower shop a few blocks from his building. She was talking to a well-mannered man who smiled like he had no secrets to tell. Wang So blew the smoke in their direction, watching her laugh amidst the fog. He adjusted his hat and climbed the stairs back to his office, all the while thinking, Fool.
He saw her not a week later, dropping by like she had nowhere else to go. She was dripping wet, ruining his carpet. Her curls were ruined, as were her eyes; the raindrops fell from her eyelashes, from her bangs, hid away her tears, but nothing could hide away the redness, the disappointment, the sadness.“He’s married,” she said, letting out a short, weak laugh. “Isn’t it funny? I was worried he had another woman but I was the other woman.” She looked up at him and he held her gaze. He felt he had already seen it before, in mirrors. “Did you know, Mr. Wang?”He shook his head. “I never looked him up, miss.”She looked down again. “That’s right. But you knew, anyway. I feel like you’ve always known.”“Like I said, Miss Go Ha Jin.”He dropped his trench coat over her shoulders, hiding her transparent garments from view.“Men are assholes.”He let her stay there, in the reception, with a mug of tea and wandering thoughts. He reviewed all his notes and cases but he was too distracted, he kept looking at the open door and thinking about the woman who sat on the other side. Not-a-high-schooler Go Ha Jin, suffering from her first heartbreak. He didn’t know what a heartbreak felt like but he knew what it was like to feel lost; his memories trailed back to the heat and flash of a fire, the smell of smoke, and a home that crumbled down to the ground. Surely it wasn’t like that, could anything feel like that? Like there’s nowhere to go from there, no ground to step on, no air to breathe? Looking at her, staring ahead, all things that made the character that he knew — the care with which she dressed herself, the light make-up and nailpolish, the way she held his glare and rejection and her ground — seemed to be gone, and he knew that it was something like it. You never know what could break a person, only that they were breakable.“I shouldn’t have trusted him,” he heard her whisper and had enough of it.“Do you work, Miss Go Ha Jin?”She blinked a few times before looking up at him and shaking her head.“As you can see, I’m in need of a secretary.”She blinked slowly.“I thought you couldn’t afford one.”He coughed.“Do you want the job or not?”Go Ha Jin frowned and looked at her mug before widening her eyes at him.“You mean I can help solving cases? Help those in need? Listen to their pleas?”Wang So crossed his arms.“I said I need a secretary, not that I’m giving you my job.”She got up to her feet; his trench coat, draped over her shoulders still, reached her shins.“But I can help, right? I get to meet all kinds of people?”“You can help me filter the cases. Get rid of the worst ones. Sniff out those who can’t pay.”She scrunched her nose.“I’m not a dog, Mr. Wang.”“That’s the kind of help I need. Will you do it?”He could see the glow finding its way back into her eyes, the broken cup coming together again.“Yes!” It turned out that Ha Jin wasn’t the best secretary he could have gotten, and he blamed his own shortcomings for it. She had a penchant for answering the phone with “Wang So PD, here to solve all of your problems!”, which always made him yell, “Cut that out, Ha Jin!”. He worked for free at least five times on her first month, and he took at least one infidelity case because she couldn’t send a crying woman away and he couldn’t kick them both out of his office. His headache wasn’t greater because she made a fine coffee and always brought it to him at the right intervals with a smile on her face. She liked peering at his notes and he was sure she read over them all while he did field work; whenever he got back, everything was neatly organized in piles.The months passed and he got used to her presence, to her perfume. The sound of her heels brought him comfort, and he ate out less and less as she insisted on cooking for them both. Sometimes she yawned cutely and he stared at her, raising one hand and asking her if she got bored of detective work already and she tripped over her words, ran to answer the phone, the peppiness back in her. She did her best in such a thankless job and he smoked pack upon pack, wondering, always wondering why the days were still gray as summer drew nearer. The sun was blinding, casting shadows on the sidewalk, and the nights were still as a graveyard. Until he fell asleep and dreamed. Of fire and destruction. Of her mad laughter.Ha Jin entered his office and closed the door, staying right there, with her back glued to it.“Mr. Wang,” she whispered. He didn’t look up from his notes.“Yes, Ha Jin?”“There’s a woman outside.”“If it’s an infidelity case, I’ll throw both of you down the stairs.”“It’s not! She looks... rich.”That made him still his pen.“Then stop talking and let her in.”Go Ha Jin pursed her lips and opened the door.Wang So didn’t know what to focus on the moment she walked it. The bright red of her heels and lips, the trick of lighting reflecting on her opaque stockings, the tilt of her hips as she walked towards him. Quickly his eyes were drawn to the bracelets shining on her wrists and the fur delicately touching the crook of her elbows. She sat down in front of him and crossed her legs, her eyelashes — too long — blinking slowly at him.“What can I do for you, Miss...?”“Yeon Hwa,” she said. “Call me Yeon Hwa.”Ha Jin closed the door a little too loudly.“What can I do for you, Miss Yeon Hwa?”“I need you to clear the circumstances of my husband’s death.”His eyebrows shot up.“And why do they need to be cleared?”“The police won’t listen to me. They have...” Her shoulder, unmarred and perfect, leaned a bit towards him. “...conflicting opinions that do not reflect the reality.”Wang So reached for his cigarette and Yeon Hwa leaned forward, his lighter in her hand.“May I?” She asked and he never took his eyes off hers, her hands inches from his face, perfectly placed to touch him. She didn’t. Go Ha Jin walked in and placed a tray with his mug of coffee and a cup of tea on his desk, the china rattling with the movement. Yeon Hwa leaned back in her seat and gave the girl a wide smile, gladly accepting the tea. So purposefully didn’t look at Ha Jin, especially when she didn’t leave. “Will you help me, Mr. Detective?”“I’ll stop by your house by tomorrow. Please leave your contact information with my secretary.”“Thank you, Mr. Detective.”Yeon Hwa walked outside, the sweet fragrance of her imported perfume lingering in her absence, Ha Jin following her with heavy steps. Wang So drank his coffee and gathered his thoughts before Ha Jin returned, closing the door behind her.“She lives in one of the richest neighborhoods in the city. Are we really taking her case?” Ha Jin crossed her arms, a habit he suspected she got from him. “It all seems very suspicious.”“She killed her husband,” the detective announced, scribbling down something, until Ha Jin slammed her hands on his desk. He glared at her and she retreated, falling onto the chair before him.“How did you know that? When did you figure it out?”“The moment she opened her mouth.”Ha Jin gasped and he ignored it, drinking his coffee instead.“And still you took her case?”“Listen, Ha Jin.” He turned to her and she blinked at him with those huge eyes of her. “We want to keep this place, yes? Then we need cases. Cases that actually pay the rent. That means one or two gold diggers once in a while. No judgment, no complications. Just give them what they want. Got it?”Ha Jin lowered her gaze and said nothing. He felt like scolding a child and he didn’t know what was worse, the feeling or the allegory, so he just resumed his work, spreading pictures across his desk and trying to come up with a solution to a missing person’s case.“You’ve been doing well in the other cases,” Ha Jin mused in a quiet voice. “Even the ones that couldn’t pay were happy.”“Now we’re going to have a happy rich lady in our hands for a change,” he said distractedly, moving the pictures around. “Maybe I’ll buy you one those shawls of hers.”He peered at her and chuckled inwardly at her scoff.“Thank you, Mr. Detective,” she imitated and it was less affected than he had expected. He bit his bottom lip and looked away.She watched him work, eerily silent.“You always dedicate yourself to every case,” she said once he let himself fall down on his chair and nursed his temples, a migraine showing its ugly face in the darkness behind his eyelids.“Have to. Work is work, even those you trap me into.” He looked at her out the corner of his eyes and she seemed to wither, a flower without sun.“I’ll try to get better cases,” she said with a sheepish smile. He just nodded and looked at his wristwatch. 7pm.“Let’s wrap it up for tonight. I’ll be going to Miss Yeon Hwa’s first thing in the morning so I need you to call her when you get in tomorrow and announce my visit.” Ha Jin nodded while he put on his hat and jacket. “Where do you live, Ha Jin? I can give you a ride.”She rose quickly.“Oh no, it’s okay! It’s not that far and everyone knows me around my neighborhood. I can catch a cab?” She sounded unsure and dismissive at the same time and he decided not to pry.“Just be careful. It’s not safe after dark.”She smiled and nodded. He started to walk away but she took hold of his sleeve.“You’ll... be careful too, right, Mr. Wang? Around that woman?”Wang So patted her hands.“I’m always careful. Lock everything up before you leave.”Go Ha Jin nodded, hands falling back to her sides. He took one last glance at her as he climbed down the stairs, catching her little wave and smile, the lilac of her dress contrasting badly with the dullness of his office. Wang So only climbed the stairs to his office at late evening of the following day, having spent every hour covering the details of Yeon Hwa’s case, eager to bring it to a close in one day if he could. He did, but he was in desperate need of a cigarette and a shower. Go Ha Jin had been right about one thing; being in Yeon Hwa’s home made his skin crawl, especially when she touched him. The meaningful touch of a woman who needed to get what she wanted. She’d get her inheritance and he would get his payment and Ha Jin would get her boring cases and all would be right in their mediocre little lives.All would be right once he got his lighter, which he had forgotten in light of the previous day’s events. The door to the reception was locked so he was sure Ha Jin had already left but when he opened the door to his office, he saw her. Curled up on his couch, sleeping peacefully on her side, one hand supporting her head, curls hiding her face from view. Yeon Hwa’s house had been cold, full of corners and furniture of dark wood, but she laid there in perfect, welcome contrast in her beige dress, chest rising and falling to the rhythm of her dreams. I thought I told you not to worry about me. He brushed the hair out of her eyes and watched them open, blink the sleep away.“You’re back,” she spoke, voice drowsy. “How was it?”“Not as good as the payment. Why are you still here?”He knelt before her and observed as she sat up, stretched, yawned. There were marks on her cheeks and he wanted to laugh, to tease her, to say something, but her serenity, the cat-like grace of her movements, robbed him of his snark, the weight of her smile falling into him, all the way to the pit of his stomach.“I decided to wait to see how the case ended but I guess I was tired. I’m sorry, Mr. Wang.”He got up and walked to his desk to retrieve the object he was looking for, but the need for a cigarette had vanished for the time being.“Get up, I’ll take you home.”Ha Jin looked at her wristwatch and stood up in a flash.“No!”He stopped adjusting the collar of his jacket to look at her.“I mean... You don’t have to.”“I’m sure you have a curfew. Come on.”He didn’t hear her footsteps behind him until he was out of the reception room. Ha Jin hurried behind him, cheeks flushed, and he started climbing down the stairs as she locked the door. He observed the streets, the pools of rainwater gathered here and there from poor city planning. He liked the humid air of the night, the smell of a damp city, dirty but refreshing and filling his lungs with more than just smoke.Ha Jin caught up to him at the moment a car was driving dangerously close to one of the puddles and So only had time to pull her into his arms and turn his back to the road before the wave crashed upon them. Ha Jin stared up at him, surprised, eyes reflecting the streetlight above them. She didn’t feel small in his arms; her hands touched his forearms and her head tilted up at him at just the right angle. He could feel her breath on his face. Watched her swallow nervously.Stepping away from her, he shook his arms angrily, would have shouted at the driver if the car wasn’t long gone.“You should get changed, Mr. Wang.”They walked to his car and he threw his jacket in the back seat.“No need. Get in.”“You’re soaked! You could get sick, a serious disease!”He sat behind the wheel and she sat beside him, glaring, her arms crossed.“Really? You’re going to nag me about this?Wang So was tired, wet, and not in the mood to deal with an equally displeased companion.“The longer you take, the longer you’ll be tired, wet and moody, Mr. Wang.”
Well, I’ll be damned.
He started the car and drove for his own apartment, thinking about what he got when he let himself get carried away by generosity and... whatever the hell the other feeling was. He had intended to just walk in, get a change of clothes and walk back out to take the girl home. He left her and her wide eyes to his bookshelves and came back to her sleeping on his couch, a book resting open on her chest. Again. He sighed. What are you, a cat?Truth was, Wang So had a spare bedroom. A luxury for a man with his occupation, but the apartment was old and, above all, it was his. Bought at a different lifetime, in a modest complex. He knew the name of all his neighbors, seldom interacted with them, except one of their cats who occasionally stopped by. He figured the trespasser and Go Ha Jin ought to become friends, sleeping anywhere unprompted.He stared at her for a while — thinking beyond her, beyond the laces of her skirt — and then left. Searched through his drawers for old clothes that a young woman would be willing to sleep in, something that would make her comfortable. Then he searched for spare blankets and pillows, way cleaner than the ones he was using himself. Set it all in the spare bedroom quietly, the clothes folded neatly by the nightstand, and walked back to the living room.She was light. Not extremely so he’d worry about her health, but light enough that he could carry her, her weight well-distributed. An average girl of average weight and average height, somewhere between her twenties and her thirties (early twenties, if he were to guess) and with an ironclad will. Heartbroken, but still capable of kindness. Persistent, breaking through his door and his defenses. Asleep. He thought she might have held onto him but he placed her gently on the bed and there she stayed, black curls spread against the pillow.
Sorry your first time at a man’s house isn’t with a good man or in a good house, Go Ha Jin.
The truth was that he didn’t know if it was her first time at a man’s house. She had dated that guy. Kind smiles and vile intentions. He ran his hands through his hair trying to erase any and every thought of her from his mind. He was tired, too tired of cases but unable to shut down his thinking process entirely. Who she was, what she liked, what she had lived, none of it mattered to him. Soon she would leave, like everyone else had left. There one day, gone the next.He smoked his cigarette instead of eating dinner. Looked at the streetlights from his window, the passing cars. He never stopped thinking, not for one second, and the moments he got tired of his cases were the most dangerous of all. Fighting the thoughts of her and the thoughts of a fire against the night sky, he lied on his bed and tried to sleep.Soundly, like a cat. He felt himself burning on the inside and freezing on the outside. Wet, his back was wet, his hair was wet, and he trembled. When he jolted up on his bed, he felt warm hands on his shoulders, on his face.Shh, he heard her whisper. He couldn’t see her, he could only smell her, the smell of her shampoo, of his shampoo on her, drowning his senses as he gasped for air, clung to her for dear life. She wrapped her arms around his neck, accommodating him in her, on the crook of her neck, her fingers running through his hair as he regained control of his heartbeats.They lied back down. She led him, he had no strength. He kept his eyes open in the dark because every time he closed them he saw it, the house on fire. His vision would get used to the darkness and he would see her, see her form, but she didn’t let him. She held his head close to her chest and by the gods, he let her. He let her because for the first time he woke up from that nightmare and he wasn’t alone, he had longed for it, longed for a gentle touch to calm him, lulling him into a peace he no longer remembered.“You take care of everyone’s problems but your own, don’t you, Wang So?”He loved her hands in his hair, the pitch of her voice in the dark. Stop it, Ha Jin. I might like you yet. You don’t want that.“So many vices, so much work, and not one good night of sleep, is that it?”Tightening his hold on her, around her middle, he knew she was wearing the shirt he had given her. Their legs intertwined, he didn’t think she was wearing the pants. Perhaps they had been too big. He exhaled deeply, against her skin.“I reckon you’re always yawning, Ha Jin.”She giggled and he wanted to kiss her neck.“I get up really early to cook for you, you know?”“Why?”He wished he could see her. See the emotions on her eyes. But all he had were her hands, holding him like he was something precious, and he didn’t want it to end.“Because I want to. Why do we do anything?”
What do you want, Ha Jin? I feel like I could give you anything.
I feel like I could give you everything.
He fell asleep to her caress. When he woke up, she wasn’t there. The bed was made, the clothes were folded. Gone, blown away like smoke. He looked into his fridge and noticed there was nothing to make a breakfast with so he resigned himself to eat something on the way. No coffee. He wanted hers.The office was empty when he arrived, just like they had left it the day before. He swallowed down a wave of panic, focusing on his notes instead, on his cases. He didn’t know how much time passed before he heard her voice, shouting “I’m sorry I’m late!” When he looked at his watch, he was surprised to see that not much time had passed at all.She wore a combination of a blue dress and gray cardigan. Fresh and clean, like she had never stepped into his apartment. The headache was splitting his brain in half.“I didn’t miss anything, did I? I’m sorry if I did, I—”“Ha Jin.”He raised one finger and she bit her bottom lip.“Coffee.”Her face lit up.“Right away, Mr. Wang!”He smiled once she was gone. Normalcy was good. Normalcy was welcome.The day went by quickly. By dusk Ha Jin approached his desk and sat on the client’s chair, quiet.“You can ask whatever it is you want to ask, Ha Jin,” he said, grabbing one picture and squinting his eyes at it.“Are you working late today, Mr. Wang?”He looked at his watch.“Probably, a bit. Why?”She clasped her hands together, standing up in a single movement.“I’ll be leaving now, then! I’ll see you, Mr. Wang!”“Be careful on the way home,” he said, but when he looked up, she was already out the door. Huh. Curious.He was extremely surprised when, hours later, she showed up at his door with bags of groceries.“What are you, some kind of stalker?”“Do stalkers bring food, Mr. Wang?” She said, walking past him and into the kitchen. “Your fridge is pitiful and I decided to fix it.”“I’m not going to use all of those, you know.”“Well, I am,” she said, putting away some ingredients and leaving others around, supposedly for use.“You’re going to cook?”“Don’t worry, I’ll make enough for the week so you’re not exactly obligated to see me every day past commercial hours,” she said, giving a self-deprecating laugh. He made no comment, just leaned against the doorframe, watching her work.“You’re not going to stop by tomorrow to clean or something, are you?”She shook her head, chopping a carrot.“No, I actually like your home the way it is. It feels... well, homely.”“I haven’t dusted it in weeks.”“I can see that.”She moved around like she owned the place, and were it anyone else, he would have kicked them out. Ha Jin, however, gave color to the kitchen, with her chopped vegetables and blue dress.“Do you like it?” He asked, and she stopped what she was doing to look at him. “Cooking, I mean.”She tried to brush her bangs away with the back of her hand but was unsuccessful.“I do. My father doesn’t really let me do much around the house, but he lets me cook when I want. I took it up when my mother got sick a few years back and it really helped me calm down and focus. It’s good to tone down anxiety.”“Are you anxious a lot?”She reached out for her bangs again, fingers still too busy and dirty to properly touch them. So walked to her.“I—”He reached out and tucked her bangs behind her ears. When they locked eyes, his hand was still touching her. He let it drop to his side, hiding it in his pocket. Ha Jin smiled.“Much less nowadays.”“Because of work or all the cooking you do?”Her head bounced from one side to the other in contemplation. He couldn’t help smiling back at her.“A little bit of both, I guess.”While Ha Jin cooked, he made sure all of his dishes and silverware were clean and ready for two. He liked it. The sound of her steps, her cardigan dropped casually on the couch. The house was not crumbling down, his heart was not racing out of control. On that evening, he sat and ate dinner with somebody else for the first time in a long, long while.“Mr. Wang.”He looked up from his food, chopsticks halfway towards his mouth.“The pictures in the living room, that big house... Is it your old home?”He could feel his hands growing cold.“Yes.”“Where is it?” She asked, her teeth showing with her excitement.“It’s gone now.”He continued eating and Ha Jin didn’t speak again. Once he was finished, he noticed she seemed small, contained in her space, eating in small bites. He took his dirty dishes to the sink and spoke while washing, his back to her.“It’s late so you can stay over. The clothes you used are still in the spare bedroom and you know where the bathroom is. Just leave your dishes there and go rest.”Her reply was chipper.“Thank you, Mr. Wang!”He heard her finish her meal and then her footsteps walking away, all the while smiling despite himself. It was way past 1am, he knew. He and the midnight clock were acquaintances, enemies. He was so tired but he couldn’t drift off, his mind was a train that never stopped, more and more people boarding in each station, more and more thoughts keeping him awake. There was red behind his eyelids. A neon sign, flashing through the window. On for some nights, off on others. It was one of those nights. He wanted a cigarette.He didn’t even hear her come in. Soft gestures, soft steps. Her arms sneaking around his middle from behind his back.“What are you doing, Ha Jin?”He could feel her talking, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.“It’s the house, isn’t it? It keeps you awake.”He didn’t comment. Her hand rested over his heart.“Tell me what happened.”“It’s a simple story. It burned down.”“Burning houses aren’t simple or usual, Wang So. Why did it burn down? Was it an accident? Did someone...”Her voice trailed off. He couldn’t help touching her hand, running his fingers through hers.“My mother did it. My little brother was inside. They were both inside.”He felt her tighten her grip around him. Wasn’t that his job? To comfort? But he never did. He never got the hang of it.“He was always so scared of her, after father left. Eunie, he... “
Tried to catch my attention. Tried to make me stop her.
“The cops said it was an accident. Never listened to me when I said it wasn’t.”“How old were you then?”“Seven. I could see the red sky all the way from the shore where I was playing.”“So...”It was the first time she used his name. It sounded lonely.“I tried to teach them differently as I grew up, the cops. But they didn’t want to change. They never wanted to listen. It made me angry, so I left. Ended up here, with a dead mother and a dead brother and the nightmares to keep me awake.”“Wait, you don’t— You don’t blame yourself, do you?”His hand closed around hers but she pulled herself from her lying position, trying to make him face her, even if they couldn’t see each other. When he rolled over to her side, she held him just she did then, her arms surrounding him, his face against her skin.“You were a child. No child can fight their parent and win, you don’t deserve this burden.”Lying down in her arms, it wasn’t red behind closed eyes anymore.“I’m sure you did your best. It’s not a crime to live. I’m... glad you lived.”There it was again. The feeling, consuming him from the inside and out.“You can’t see it, can you? All the good you do. All the people who are thankful for what you do, the respect with which you treat everyone and how much it means for them. It’s not fulfilling because you won’t let it. You say men are assholes but you said it to me while showing me kindness. You deserve more, So. You should allow it to yourself.”“Ha Jin.”The fabric of his shirt on her was warm to the touch. He ran his hand on its surface, past her waist, up her back.“Why are you here?”Her laugh was a little breathless.“Because I want to.”He reached past her and turned the lampshade on the nightstand on. She looked up at him with the big, round, expressive eyes he liked so much. His face hovered above hers, a hand touching her red cheek, caressing it.“Wh—”“I wanted to look at you.” He watched the erratic rise and fall of her chest. “Is this not what you wanted?”It felt like forever before she nodded, slowly. With her confirmation, his hand moved down, rested on her waist. She didn’t seem to know what to do with hers after she had lost control of the situation she created.“Say it again,” he whispered and her eyes danced, switched between sustaining his gaze and focusing on his lips.“What?”“My name.”Her hands started to find their way to his shoulders.
I was afraid you were letting me go.
Her smile was beautiful under that light.“So.”She deserved all the right steps, but he skipped some of them. Kissed her deeply, stole her air and her taste. She breathed his name as he kissed down her neck, her body arching to his touch, her legs parting and wrapping around him. Some women had marked him, had given him scars to nights he no longer remembered. Go Ha Jin’s laughter was forever imprinted to his memory, her giggles when he found a ticklish spot, her smile against his mouth. She deserved all the right steps and he may have skipped some but not all of them, she had to enjoy it as much as he did, feeling her every reaction under his fingertips, and he thought and spoke her name, over and over again. When she looked at him with affection he came undone, his fingers lacing with hers and he felt greedy. She made him greedy. Selfish. Needy of her. You deserve more.
Do I deserve you?
Her head was lying on his arm when he started to drift off, the roles back into place, if not for her hand in his hair, tender, overwhelming. He touched his forehead to hers and wrapped his other arm tighter around her, pulling her closer. Don’t let me go.He slept and dreamed of her. He woke up and reached out for her but she wasn’t there. The bed was cold on her side like a bad joke, a half-remembered dream. He was thinking about departures and empty spaces when he heard sounds coming from his kitchen. He got dressed and walked there slowly, afraid that it’d be a phantom memory of the night before, an unfounded fear for a man who so desperately tried to cling to reality.She was there, in her blue dress. Moving around with a contented look on her face, still trying to tame the bangs that she couldn’t tie in a low ponytail.“For someone who chased after me when we met, you’re sure bound to disappear when I look for you.”Ha Jin startled, almost dropping the bowl she was holding. He rushed to her side, steadying her, taking the bowl from her hands and setting it on the table. She held his gaze for a few seconds before she resumed what she was doing, checking the pans. He stepped back and watched her, not a word between them. She regrets it. He ran a hand through his hair and started to walk away the moment she spoke.“I was... embarrassed.”He looked back at her. She still hadn’t turned his way.“Last night was— I had never...” There was a nervous ache in his stomach. She had never—? “Wook was sweet but he never looked at me the way you did. Do. When I woke up this morning and watched you sleep, I felt like that girl again, the one you met. And... more. I didn’t think you’d want her. I didn’t want to feel that way again but I couldn’t help it. I don’t know.” She touched her face with the back of her hand again and he didn’t think she was brushing her hair. With a chipper voice she added, “Breakfast will be done soon! You should go wash up.”
No.
His arms circled her from behind and she stilled. He inhaled the smell of her hair and it was a mystery he couldn’t decipher, how her scent was still sweet after a night spent with him, in his place, on his bed. How she could still be herself and somehow still want to be with him, he who had nothing to give but himself.
Don’t let go.
“You're spoiling me,” he said, looking at what she was preparing. “At this rate, I won’t want any other food but yours.”She placed her hands on his but he could still feel her uncertainty, the fear of the woman she used to be. The one who was so easily deceived, so easily tossed aside, when her heart was filled with earnestness. He leaned down, mouth close to her ear, and whispered,“Next time, don’t leave by yourself.”He left for his morning routine. When he arrived back at the kitchen later, she was bright and radiant again, and they ate in peace. The nightmares stopped after a while, even if the insomnia didn’t. She made him talk about the house in the dead of night. The red painting on the outside, the vast rooms on the inside. Running, running through the halls with Eun in tow. He’d be proud of you now, she’d say, and he didn’t see how Eun could be proud of him, but he saw the reflection on her eyes and knew she meant it. Fake it until you make it, he didn’t believe in anything but he believed in her, washing away the pain and replacing it with resignation. She always seemed impressed when he closed a case and he didn’t know how much of it was her true heart and how much of it was encouragement, her sneaky ways to make him feel like a man. It worked, anyhow. And he made her happy, he felt he did, without much effort at all. Accepting her. Her lectures, I’m cutting down your caffeine intake if it’s the last thing I do, her food, her details, looking at the picture of the Wang Manor like she wished she could have been there. He wished she could have been there, too. He held her in the morning, feeling her turn around in his arms, and he lingered in bed, freed from the impulse to just get up and bury himself in work. He was more productive that way. She tricked him into taking cases he didn’t want. Everybody won.They came one day, in the middle of the afternoon.He heard a commotion in the reception room and then he heard her yelling. He ran, taking the gun he hated from its place in his drawer, jumped over his desk and opened the door wide—The barrel of a gun was pointed to the space between his eyes before he could even raise his weapon. They held her by the arms, dressed in black, all of them, shades covering their eyes and masking their appearances, and she struggled but the men were stronger, dragged her away.“So!”“I’m going to kill you,” he spoke between his teeth to the man in front of him. “If you harm her in any way, if you touch one strand of her hair, I will find you—”“So, don’t!” Her feet were off the floor and she had to turn her head to look at him. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay!”I’m supposed to be saying it to you, he thought, but he never looked away from the man in front him, memorizing the shape of his nose, chin, ears, everything, memorizing everything.“I’ll come for you,” he said, but his words were for her.“Don’t.”It was the last thing she said to him.He counted the seconds after they were gone, one, two, three, and then he stormed after them, gun in hand, just in time to see the black car with no plate number drive away. His mind worked fervently to not forget a single detail that would lead him back to her. His heart agonized over what they could want with her, what they could do to her. Who was it? Someone from his past, catching up to him? Someone he put away, back with a vengeance, taking it out on her?He waited for days for a phone call, for a demand, he would sell his soul to get her back. It never came. Once he decided to look for her, he realized that he had no idea where to begin. He didn’t know where she lived, didn’t know the name of her parents. He called every single Go on the phone book but none of those households had a girl named Ha Jin. She knew everything about him, every crooked corner, every scream in his nightmares, and he didn’t know a thing about her. Love had made him sloppy, careless.Love.During the day he asked everyone in his neighborhood about her, but no one had anything to say. The owner of the flower shop shook his head vehemently and shut the door on his face. At night, he wondered who she was, if she was being fed properly, if they let her sleep, and despite everything, every question without answer, he wanted to see her again. Needed. Ached.It was on a stormy night. Pouring down, the sky flashing with menace. The pounding on his door sounded like thunder for a second or two before he jumped off his bed, heart in his throat, feet barely touching the floor. When he opened the door, she was there. Soaked to the bone, hands and feet bleeding.“So,” was all she said before she collapsed forward, into his arms, and the relief robbed him of his strength, of his balance. He sat on the floor with her, crying into her hair, whispering things he would never remember, and she listened, still conscious but weak, nodding with her eyes closed. “So, I’m cold.”He picked her up — lighter, she was lighter — and brought her to the bathroom, where he filled the tub with warm water. He stripped her of her dirty wet clothes and treated her wounds while she regained some of her color back, gently wiping the blood away, not too many scratches, just enough to prove her fight. She was braver than he would ever be; there was only anger in him where there was courage in her. He dried and clothed her, carefully, catching her if she fell. Then he brought her to his room where he could watch over her, where no one would ever take her away again.“So,” she called, but he hushed her, caressed her face.“We’ll talk in the morning. Just rest for now.”Her eyes filled with tears and he lied down with her, pulling her into his embrace, rubbing her back and massaging her scalp until she fell asleep. He made her breakfast the next morning, bringing it on a tray and feeding her while her hands were bandaged. She didn’t eat much but it was better than nothing. After she was done, he put everything away and turned to her.“What happened? Who were they and why did they take you?”He saw she was about to cry again.“Ha Jin, you don’t have to tell me everything if you don’t want to, but I need to keep you safe and I don’t know where to begin.”He wiped her tears away but she wouldn’t look at him.“Ha Jin.”“I lied.”His blood ran cold with fear.“About what?”“My name. It’s not Go Ha Jin.”She stared at her hands and he watched her flex her fingers, gather up her strength to speak. She inhaled deeply.“My name is Hae Soo.”“Hae...?”His eyes widened.“Of the Hae Family? Head of the biggest crime syndicate in town, that Hae Family?”She nodded, the tears falling on her blanket.“I... I wanted to leave. I was tired of the control and the hushed meetings behind closed doors, tired of that big, clean, empty house. I had no reason to stay after my mother passed away. At first I just wanted to run away but then I met Wook and I could only think of beginning a new life with somebody else, and then there was you, and...” She smiled in her tears. “I enjoyed cooking for you in the early morning, while everyone else still slept. Loved working with you, while they thought I was with a friend.” She looked at him then, he had never seen her like that. Not broken, not like that time, but devastated, desperate. “I’m sorry I lied to you, I didn’t know how to say it, I felt I couldn’t tell you, I could never tell you, you were too... good. You were too good for me, So, and I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to lie.”He got up from the bed and walked to the window. He could hear her crying while his mind formed her picture out of every piece. Why she never talked about herself, why she never let him take her home, and why she liked hearing about his family, wishing she were somewhere else with him.“All this time, I never even suspected it.”He turned to her and saw her sobbing onto her knees. Sitting next to her, he placed his arm around her shoulders.“Ha Jin, I’m impressed.”Her head turned sharply in his direction, surprise evident on her tear-stained face.“You’re... Not mad?”He shook his head, using his sleeves to dry her tears.“Disgusted? Deceived? Fearful for your life?”He smiled at her, shaking his head again.“It’s going to take much more than that to make me dislike you or leave you. Let’s say... You’d have to be reborn as an entirely different person.”She flung herself at him, almost knocking him back. He let out a breathless laughter and tried to accommodate her on his lap, rubbing her back, comforting her as much as he found comfort in her being with him.“I promise not to lie to you again,” she spoke against his shoulder.“Even if you did, I wouldn’t know. I’d hopelessly believe your every word, Miss Go Ha Jin.”“I love you.”He pushed her back to look at her, at her beautiful, flushed face. She fiddled with the collar of his shirt, avoiding eye contact.“I’m not... lying. I did jump out of a second-story window to find my way back to you.”With a hand against the back of her neck, he pulled her into a kiss. A slow, tender kiss, her wounded hands lying on his shoulders, unable to tangle themselves in his hair, to hold him too tightly. He kissed her like she ought to be kissed, not with passion, not this time, but a kiss of home. A first kiss. His caution in the wind, at the mercy of her will. She looked dazed when they parted, intoxicated with happiness.“What are we going to do? They’ll be looking for you, they must have already noticed I’m gone.”He touched her hair lovingly, her head resting on his shoulder.“I have a plan.”He spoke as the sun shifted in the sky, casting shadows on their corner of the world. After he was done, Hae Soo — Go Ha Jin, grinned.“Bring me a knife, Mr. Wang.” They kicked the door to his office down. The man he had seen the other day stared at him from the entrance while the other men stood on each side of him. The client in front of him just continued to smoke her cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side, ignoring the commotion.“Where is she?” Asked the man he vowed to kill.“You took her away from me and now you lost her? Your incompetence astounds me.”The man gritted his teeth.“Trash the place!” He ordered, and the other men did as they were told, tumbling down his archives, stepping on his files, all but taking the shelves off the walls. Wang So kept on looking at the man by the remains of his door, a cold stare.“I’m a man of my word, lackey,” he said, and the man cackled.“Stop by the Hae Manor whenever you want to settle our score, detective.”“Is it always like this?” Asked the woman in a detached tone, flipping her slick, short hair over her shoulder. She clicked her tongue, the sound coming off her red lips in discontentment, lifting one glove-clad hand to brush her bangs into place, over her left eye.“I’m sorry about this, Miss Yeon Hwa.”“It’s fine, Mr. Detective. Just proves you’re good at what you do.”“I’d look for a different detective, miss. This one might not live until the end of the month.”The woman made a dismissive gesture with her hand and the men, already done with their orders, walked out, only the leader staying behind. Wang So never stood up from his chair and it seemed to anger the man more than going back empty-handed.“If you so much as look at the young miss again, detective, you should consider yourself a dead man.”“I’d rather not deal with crime syndicates, lackey. You tell that to your boss. I don’t have the money to cover up for all the shit you leave behind.”The man walked away, his heavy footsteps echoing until he was out of the building. Wang So and his client waited with bated breath. After a few seconds, So stood up and walked to the window, now without the blinds, to watch their car drive away.“I almost can’t believe it worked, but I’m not exactly surprised.”Her heels clicked on the floor as she made her way to his side. Her dress, form-fitting and of an astounding navy blue, shimmered in the poor light. She took off her gloves to check if her bandages were all in place, stepping out of the heels that hurt her wounded feet.“I knew the shawl would do the trick.”She laughed, throwing the thing on his face.“Admit it, you had the hots for Yeon Hwa.”He hummed, sneaking an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.“I think the red lipstick looks much better on you.”“Does it?” She asked with genuine curiosity, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “I feel completely out of my element here. Is the short hair weird?”“You’re always beautiful, Ha Jin.”He kissed her lightly, just a touch of lips, making her laugh when her lipstick spread all over his.“What now?” She asked.“Your documents will be ready by the end of the week. We’ve distracted them for now so I don’t think they’ll be stopping by my place soon, giving us plenty of time to smuggle Go Ha Jin into a different city.”“What about you?” She asked, eyebrows knitting together. “When are you leaving?”“After they trash my place and find no trace of you.”“Will you be okay, So? What if they hurt you? What if they follow us?”He pushed back the hair framing her face, a gentleness he never thought he would possess.“They can follow us to the ends of the Earth, I still won’t let you go.”She smiled up at him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was funny to him how her most innocent gestures warmed his heart so.“How are we going to set up the new office, So? And your new place?”“I didn’t send away all of my family’s money, Ha Jin. And besides, we have Miss Yeon Hwa’s money.” He grinned. “I told you it was worth taking her case.”“You just liked her dress, Mr. Wang.”“You can’t prove it.”“I’m wearing a similar one. This was your plan.”“Completely unrelated, Ha Jin.”“Of course it is.”He rolled his eyes and she just giggled. In a different city, a phone rang and a voice answered, “Wang So PD, this is Go speaking, how may we help you?” After setting an appointment, this lady assistant would lead you into his office and there she would stay by the man’s side, both listening to the story you had to tell. You’d find them together at the scene you described, a camera in her hand, taking pictures wherever he pointed, and a notepad in his, noting down everything he saw. They worked from dawn till dusk, relentlessly, to solve your problem. If you couldn’t afford it but the matter was of importance to you, they would listen. And if their workload permitted, they would help you. On the wall behind his desk would always sit the old photograph of a red manor that no longer existed in this world.The streetlights were the same wherever they went. The city mattered little next to her arms circling around him.“Do you want some tea?” She asked, her cheek resting against his back, listening to the hum of his agreement. His hands rested upon hers, their rings shining together like twin stars. He turned in her arms to look at her, cup her cheeks, adore the red lipstick that she took upon wearing. “You looked tired.”“I am,” he admitted.“Well, your fiancée will take care of you. Just tell me what you want for dinner tonight.”“I think my fiancée can help me in many different ways tonight.”Their lips were almost touching when the black phone started to ring. The office clock signaled it was 8pm. Wang So stared long at the device and Ha Jin had taken two steps towards it when he pulled her back by the hand and scooped her up in his arms. She let out a startled yelp, throwing her arms around his neck, and he proceeded to ignore the ringing completely, striding towards the hidden door to their home, crossing the threshold and locking it, leaving the office and his duty behind.“Is it okay? What if it was important?” She asked, but he simply laid her down on the couch, his weight carefully placed on hers.“What if it was your father asking for you? I’m not giving you back.” He leaned in, his breath tickling her ear, her skin, making her shiver. “Hae Soo.”What was once the source of her fear turned into their biggest shared secret, passionate on their lips, hot on their chests. He called her Hae Soo, Go Ha Jin, but mostly he called her his, masking the fact that he had always been hers from the beginning. He faked it terribly, for she knew. With her every touch, her every word, he followed her, an addict to her love. A family of her own making. A good man she found all on her own, right in her yard. Wang So, Private Detective.He loved her laughter in their kisses, when they made love.He never turned on the light. He could see her clearly, under the nightlights.
|
10005098
|
Come Back to Bed
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Kevin Keller, Reggie Mantle",
"Fandom": null,
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by Maeve_of_Winter",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "573",
"Additional Tags": "Fluff, Comfort, Canon Gay Character",
"Relationship": "Kevin Keller/Reggie Mantle",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": "Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)",
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Reggie wasn’t entirely sure what roused him from sleep, but since it wasn’t his morning alarm, he didn’t quite care. Without even opening his eyes, he just rolled over to readjust his position and pull Kevin’s body flush against his. God, he loved the feeling of running his hands Kevin’s smooth, warm skin, knowing just how much his touch could do, how much it was welcomed.
However, when he reached for Kevin and found only empty space, he sat up in bed, blinking as his vision focused. Squinting at the lone source of light in the room, he realized Kevin was working at his bedroom desk with only the small tabletop lamp switched on.
“What are you doing?” He hissed at Kevin. “It’s—” he glanced as the digital clock beside his bed “past three o’clock in the morning!”
Kevin guiltily glanced up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I tried to angle the light away from your direction.”
Reggie sighed, throwing back the covers and walking over to prop himself up against the desk. “That’s not the point. I wanted you to have a relaxing weekend, not to stress out in the middle of the night and throw yourself into scheduling.”
His parents were away for the next for days. Though Reggie wasn’t supposed to have company when he was staying home alone, he had managed to wrangle permission for Kevin to visit for a “history project.” The project’s object? Making time.
“I know, I know,” Kevin said hastily, still scribbing away in the notebook for one of his seemingly infinite number of clubs. “But I’ve got to write my MVP acceptance speech for the swim team banquet.”
Reggie frowned. “That banquet isn’t for another two weeks.”
“And then I’ve got to handle the cheerleaders’ fund request for student government—”
“You’re only expected to give your opinion on the reasonability of the request. You don’t actually have the power to decide if they
get
the money,” Reggie pointed out.
“Then I have to finalize plans for Community Service Day—”
“Which is months away, and the school hasn’t even decided the official date yet,” Reggie interrupted. “C’mon, Kevin, it’s been a hard week for both of us. Let’s go to bed, please?”
Kevin hesitated, looking from Reggie to his notebook. “But there’s so much work I should be doing. It doesn’t feel right to just sleep, you know?”
“Hmph.” Reggie leaned down, wrapping his toned arms around Kevin. “Guess I’ll have to take your mind off of work, then, huh?” He nibbled gently on Kevin’s ear.
Kevin groaned. “Reg! That’s playing dirty!”
“That’s how I play,” Reggie informed him smugly, rapidly undoing to the buttons on Kevin’s pajama top. “And that’s how I win.” Pushing apart the halves of Kevin’s shirt, he bit down on one of his nipples, delighting in the yelp that emitted from Kevin’s mouth.
“Ready to go back to bed now?” He purred.
“You win this round,” Kevin admitted, and Reggie all but tossed him on the bed and threw himself on top of him. This time, he was going to make sure Kevin was too tired to give sports or clubs so much as a passing thought.
Not a half hour later, Kevin was cuddled up beside him, utterly exhausted. Laying a gentle kiss on his forehead and running his fingers through his blond hair, Reggie couldn’t help but smirk and congratulate himself for a job well done.
|
10023962
|
Blitz
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "Gen",
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "The Flash (TV 2014)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by RJCryptidian",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-02-28T00:00:00",
"words": "1,494",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“Ok woah woah wait, just…start over from the beginning, ok?” Barry asked calmly as Cisco tried to explain why you were there. He wasn’t even really sure himself, it wasn’t like he’d invited you to that block in Central City to watch them fight their latest bad meta, you just seemed to be in the right place at the right time.Cisco took a breath and sighed, “Ok, everyone, this is Y/N, she’s my…” he hesitated, debating whether he should admit to his friends that he had a personal trainer. He wasn’t necessarily embarrassed by the fact, he just wasn’t sure how they’d react to the idea of him getting training outside of the team.“I’m his personal trainer,” you explained for him, “he comes to the gym I work in and I coach him through his endurance training,” you shrugged at the little grimace Cisco gave you, “what, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, especially now that I know what your line of work is.”“So that’s where you’ve been going every Monday, and Thursday afternoon?” Wally asked with a smirk, “you’ve been going to the gym?”“Well…yeah,” Cisco defended, “I mean training with my powers is all well and good here, but I gotta keep my body in shape too or powers or no powers, I’m gonna get my ass handed to me in the field.”“Well you almost did, that’s why I jumped in to help,” you interjected, earning a giggle from Wally and an imploring look from Cisco, to which you gave him another shrug.Barry sighed, “Ok so you train him, did he tell you who he was or-?”“Dude!” Cisco cried in offense, you shook your head.“No he did not,” you assured them, “he barely told me anything, accept the necessary physical information I needed to create a regimen for him, and his name,” you smiled slightly as you added, “he also tried to give me his phone number once, but I told him we should probably keep our relationship professional.”Wally giggled again, even Barry cracked a smile as Cisco groaned softly in embarrassment. “Right so you didn’t know he was a Meta, which means you didn’t even know he was fighting with us, so why did you just jump into battle with us like you did?”You thought the question over for a moment, considering exactly what had driven you to intervene, “Well,” you began with a thoughtful frown, “I guess I just thought that this city has seen enough metas gone bad…and as a meta myself, I figured if I helped stop the guy you were up against, it would at the very least give us some good representation to stand on.”“Wait…you’re a meta?!” Cisco asked incredulously, “what are your powers? Oh my god do you have super strength?! Is that why you’re always so much better than me during work outs?”“Cisco, focus,” Barry barked, “Y/N…since you just told us you’re a meta, would you mind sharing what your abilities are?” he asked politely.You nodded, “Its nothing very flashy…no pun intended,” you gave Barry an awkward smile as Cisco snorted beside you, “I just…I guess you could call it super stamina? I was out for a run when that particle accelerator thing exploded, and when I was hit it knocked me out, but when I woke up I felt fine…it wasn’t until the next day when I arrived at work that I realized anything had changed. I hopped on the treadmill for my morning run while I waited for my first appointment, and well…nobody told me they’d canceled so I kept running….I got to work at seven in the morning, and my first appointment not to cancel was at one in the afternoon.”“So you just…ran on that treadmill for six hours straight?” Cisco asked in awe, “without getting tired or anything?”You shook your head, “I didn’t get tired, thirsty, hungry…I barely even registered that time had passed. That week I didn’t even sleep, I just stayed up and cleaned my apartment, I called my parents, I even volunteered to organize the file room at work; it was like I could go forever without a break,” you looked down at your feet as you amended, “but after a few more days like that, I sort of…passed out while I was with a client, and realized I wasn’t completely invincible…in the hospital they told me I probably hadn’t eaten enough, and I just didn’t correct them.”Cisco narrowed his eyes, “So all those exercise bike races, you had a meta advantage and I was just pushing myself to beat you for no reason?”“No, Cisco, you were pushing yourself so that you could get better,” you corrected, “and you did, you’ve beaten your first time exponentially,” you turned to Wally and Barry, pointing to Cisco as you told them, “he trains harder than any of my other clients you guys, you have no idea how lucky you both are to have him on your team, believe me.”Cisco clapped his mouth shut, a proud little smile coming to his lips as he blushed slightly. Both Wally and Barry gave him approving nods, “Yeah we kinda have an idea,” Wally replied, making Cisco blush a little more.You smiled at Cisco as he soaked in the admirations of his friends. You really were proud of him, he worked incredibly hard every day he came in, and he always seemed to have a positive attitude about it all, even on the days when you increased his work load, or pushed him a little farther, he never complained or gave up. Maybe that was another part of why you jumped into the fight, when you saw him fall you didn’t know it was him, you just thought he sort of looked like Cisco, and that small spark of recognition had made you feel slightly protective over him. You sprang into action before you could think, launching yourself at the meta they were battling and knocking him on his ass. You didn’t have much of a strategy after that, so you took quite a few good hits before the others swooped in to help you, but the time you did get fighting one on one was actually kind of exhilarating, and you hoped the team wouldn’t be too upset with you for jumping in.“Thank you Y/N,” you heard Barry saying, breaking you from your thoughts, “you were a great help to us out there, even if you were an unforeseen variable.”You nodded graciously, “You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile, “and thank you for not letting him beat the complete snot out of me…he was kind of massive.”Cisco chuckled, “I could say the same thing to you,” he pointed out, “at the very least you can take a hit, I would have probably been dead meat if you hadn’t helped….so thanks.”“Don’t mention it,” you replied with a shrug, “anyone would have done it…”“Mmm, lets agree to disagree, on that” Wally interjected, “people tend to panic in situations like that, heroes on the other hand-”“He’s right,” Barry cut in, “like you said, that guy was massive, and you ran in to help anyway,” he looked thoughtfully down at his gloved hands for a moment, before bringing his eyes back up to you, “have you ever considered becoming a hero full time?”You gave him a curious look, “Full time?” you scoffed, “and how would I do that? I have bills to pay y’know.”“Don’t we all honey,” Cisco commiserated quietly.Barry nodded, “Right well…maybe not full time but…on a regular basis?” he smirked, “you were pretty good out in the field, and you already have an athletic background…we could use someone like you on the team.”You looked from Barry, to Wally, to Cisco and then back again, “Seriously?” you asked with a smile, “The Flash is actually asking me to join his super team? Ha, what kind of comic book world did I just step into?”Wally smiled, “You get used to it after a while, then its just fun.”You glanced over at Cisco again, a small part of you wanting to make sure he was ok with you joining the team. He smiled over at you, “It would be a hell of a lot easier for you and I to train together,” he pointed out, “plus I already have a code name for you.”You raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?”He nodded, “Yup,” he held up his hands as though he were presenting a headline, “how does Blitz sound?” Barry and Wally squinted at him in silence, but you considered it and smiled.“Sounds kinda cool,” you conceded, “yeah…ok, I guess I’ll join your team,” you nodded to Barry, “so when do I start?”
|
10060547
|
The moaning in the night
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by jezzi85 [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2007-07-28T00:00:00",
"words": "616",
"Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Sexual Content, Humor, Parody, Romance",
"Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Title: The moaning in the nightAuthor: jezzi85Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plotbunnies. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I just borrow them and I certainly don’t get any money for this…Genre: RomancePairing: Harry/DracoRating: RSummery: In the middle of the night Draco woke to the sound of moaning… What was wrong with his lover? A silly little drabble, which bugged me until I wrote it down.Words: ~ 415Warnings: Slash, Lime------------------------The sound of desperate moaning woke Draco and he sleepily looked over at the clock on his bedside table. 3:07. Damn it! In two hours he would need to get up and get ready for a meeting in the ministry. He was about to go back to sleep when the moaning started again.“Dracooo!”It had sounded somewhat pained. “Harry?” he whispered back, searching for his wand to call for light.“Dray, I’m dying…”Panic rose a bit in Draco at these words. Those were the same words which had woken him five months ago when Harry had gotten the wizard flue right after he’d battled and killed Voldemort. He had still been very weak from that and the flue had put him into coma for almost a whole week. Frantically, Draco tried to find his wand to see what was wrong with his lover.“Please, help me!”Finally, Draco’s hands touched something wooden and he quickly called for light to look over to the other side of the bed. There lay his Harry, sweating, panting and his face contorted in what looked like pain.“Harry?! What’s wrong, baby?”“It hurts, please, Dray – help me!”Draco could barely make out the words between Harry’s agonized groans. “What’s wrong, Harry? Please talk to me!” he begged, desperately. His raven haired lover continued moaning however and Draco was about to apparate him to St. Mungos when he noticed it.Harry’s right hand was under the blankets, moving up and down rapidly, while his other hand was gripping the bed sheets tightly. For a moment all Draco could do was stare, but then the meaning of all the moaning sank in.“Harry, please tell me you didn’t wake me at three in the morning when you know that I have a meeting today, because you wanted to wank!” he drawled, irritated.“Uh… No, I didn’t want to wank, I – gods – I wanted you to suck me off,” Harry panted and Draco could see his hand speeding up a bit. “Like in the – fuck – dream I just had. You’re so good with your mouth, Dray. I love it to watch your lips stretched around my cock, how your cheeks would hollow when you suck me and your tongue – gods – it would drive me insane!” The green eyed man moaned loudly at his own words.“Geez, Harry, I think you’re the only one who could talk yourself into orgasm,” Draco said annoyed, but he couldn’t help but felt himself harden a bit at the sight before him.At this Harry threw away the blankets and exposed his naked body to his lover. Draco’s eyes were immediately drawn to Harry’s cock, which was hard as steel and leaking pre-come. “Maybe I could,” Harry shrugged and flashed him a cheeky grin. “But I’d prefer it if you would do something about this. I’m sure I’ll find a way to pay you back.”Draco licked his lips hungrily. Now, how could he refuse such an offer? “Fine, but if I fall asleep in my meeting today, it will be entirely your fault,” he growled, before he pounced on Harry, who moaned in delight.Neither of them got any more sleep that night. THE END
|
10068914
|
Two Nights Left
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Aaron Dingle, Robert Sugden",
"Fandom": "Emmerdale",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by Tazza1993",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00",
"words": "1,582",
"Additional Tags": null,
"Relationship": "Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Two more nights until Robert would be climbing the Woolpack stairs on his own - making a solitary journey to their bedroom. (Aaron shuddered at the thought because Robert hated sleeping alone. He had said as much during Aaron's fortnight in France). Two more nights until Aaron would be alone in a prison cell, with only memories and hopes for the future to keep him company. Robert and Aaron had never done well separate - they were each other's support group, each other's calming influence, each other's best friend. And now, they were tethering on the precipice of lengthy separation. Robert was as fearful as Aaron, Aaron knew - no matter how much of a brave face the other man was putting on. Today, every time they had been in a room together, Robert's eyes had never left Aaron. He wanted to know where Aaron was, what he was doing, every single second because soon he wouldn't have that luxury. Aaron understood all too well, wanted to sink into his fiancé's skin and mark him, leave him with a physical manifestation of Aaron while he was away. Sex was as good of a way as any, Aaron supposed. Fucking had always been a coping mechanism for Aaron and Robert. They fucked away their anger, fucked away their fear, fucked away their insecurities. They had fucked away everything, except their love for each other. Aaron was first into their room, Robert close on his heels. It had been a long, frustrating night watching television that none of them could concentrate on with Liv sniping at everyone without discrimination to hide her fear and Chas chatting away in an effort to disguise her own dread. As soon as their bedroom door closed behind them, Aaron's lips were at Robert's neck and his hands were twined into his hair. Aaron pressed his fiancé back into the door, his whole body thrumming with desperation and need. Robert whimpered, his hands automatically going to Aaron's waist to steady himself. Aaron's hands tugged at Robert's hair and his teeth grazed at the sensitive skin on his neck. He had no intention of stopping until he had visibly marked Robert's skin. He used to long to do this, back when Robert had lived at Home Farm. He had wanted Robert to be his, then. Robert was his now but Aaron was going to be sent away and he would be damned before he left Robert without some sort of reminder. "Aaron," Robert whispered reverently. It was almost enough to break Aaron's heart. He bit down harder, tugged a little more. Robert's breath was fast and uneven and his dick was hard by the time Aaron wrenched his lips from Robert's neck. So was Aaron's. Aaron was always hard for Robert. Especially when he was looking at Aaron with such feeling in his eyes, like Aaron was the most desirable thing he had ever seen. Aaron didn't bother to undress either of them - they had memorised every inch of each other's bodies by this point. Instead, he dropped to his knees and moved his lips to the bulge in Robert's jeans. He pressed his tongue down, hard and warm, and tasted denim. Robert omitted a sound that resembled a growl and Aaron smiled against his jeans, loving him. He would miss this so fucking much. He lifted his hand and traced the outline of Robert's dick with just one fingertip, only applying slight pressure. "Please, Aaron," Robert breathed. Aaron lifted his head back to look up at him, his pupils dark with desire. "Please what?" He smirked, teasing. Never one to shy away from dirty talk, Robert said, "Suck my dick. Jerk me off. Fuck me." Aaron bit back a laugh, kissed Robert's dick through his jeans, to hide it. "You don't seem to know what you want, Mr. Sugden." Robert's answer took Aaron's breath away momentarily. "I want you. In any way. All ways." Aaron was sold, at once. He undid Robert's belt, pushed his jeans and boxers down far enough to allow his dick to spring free. Aaron wrapped one hand around its base and pumped his hand up and down the length of it, twice, three times. He tilted his head forward and bit Robert's inner thigh. Robert's hands hung by his sides, limp, and Aaron moved his free hand up and squeezed one of Robert's briefly. He felt the cold metal of Robert's ring and grinned. "I love touching you like this," Aaron said, because he did. "I love you," Robert replied, vehemently as ever, even though Aaron's hand were on his dick. "That too," smiled Aaron. He kept his hand on the base, exerting gentle pressure, as he moved his lips to engulf the head of Robert's dick. Aaron moved his head up and down, sucking hard and swirling his tongue. Robert's fingers moved to the back of Aaron's head, trying to get him to quicken his pace. Aaron moved his mouth away, smirking when Robert let out an involuntary hiss of impatience. Aaron moved his lips closer again, this time running his tongue across Robert's sensitive head, letting out a moan that made Robert shudder in reaction. He took the dick in his mouth again, this time moving faster and taking in as much as he could. Robert's dick was sizeable but Aaron was good at this, good at Robert. One hand traced Robert's swollen balls with his fingers, the other dug deep in Robert's outer thigh. He kept up the pace for a few minutes, hearing his fiancé's breath becoming more and more laboured. Then, he pulled away, stood up, feeling his own dick straining against his jeans. "Jesus, Aaron, finish the job," Robert almost growled, still leaning against the door. "I thought you just wanted me," Aaron teased, again. "Fuck you, Aaron." Robert couldn't help but laugh, rolling his eyes. Aaron never knew that anybody could look so good, with their jeans halfway down their legs and their dick hanging out undignified, before Robert. "No, you're going to fuck me," retorted Aaron, his eyes wicked. He undressed without further hesitation, leaving no room for argument. Robert watched for a moment, eyes lingering, before following his lead. They were both naked within seconds. Robert's hair stuck up wildly - a result of tugging his t shirt off too enthusiastically. Aaron stepped forward, tousled his hair affectionately, and kissed him on the lips. Robert went to move over towards the bed. "No," Aaron stopped him. "No?" "Fuck me against the door?" It was half suggestion, half command. Robert shrugged. "If you insist," he grinned, playfully. Robert went over to their bedside drawers, found the lube and condoms. Aaron waited by the door. As soon as Robert was close to him again, Aaron turned to face the door, placed his palms on either side of the door frame, letting his arms take most of his body weight. Robert came up behind him, put his hands on Aaron's bare hips and rubbed his dick against Aaron's arse. The pre cum oozing from Robert felt cold against Aaron's cheeks. He shuddered with desire. Robert grazed his teeth across Aaron's outer ear. "I need you," Robert murmured, his breath hot on Aaron's sensitive ear lobe. "What are you waiting for then?" Aaron almost moaned. Robert picked up the lube, coating his fingers. Then his fingers were inside of Aaron; first one, then two. They moved skilfully, carefully, and soon Aaron was loose and ready. Aaron pushed his arse outwards, encouraging Robert to move his fingers faster. Before he knew it, the fingers were gone, leaving him empty and wanting. "Robert," he hissed, reaching out a hand blindly, finding smooth skin. Before he could protest further, Robert pushed his dick inside of Aaron with a breathy moan. And then Aaron couldn't do anything other than desperately try to remain upright as Robert pulled in and out of him with a punishing rhythm. Yet, as fast he thrust in and out of Aaron, his fingers gently traced circles on Aaron's spine at the same time. It was animalistic desire and blatant adoration, all at once. "Robert," Aaron whimpered, overcome with want. Robert leaned forward and kissed Aaron's shoulder blade. There was something different about the way Robert claimed him tonight, Aaron thought. He wondered if Robert's reverent touches were so prominent because of the dread of the looming sentencing. Or if they were due to something else together? Then, Robert's hands were reaching down and tugging at Aaron's dick as he thrust and there was no longer space in Aaron's mind to think. "Aaron, I'm not going to last much longer," Robert whispered in his ear, voice husky. Aaron tilted his head upwards and kissed Robert's chin in reply. Robert thrust in, out, in out and then his body was shuddering and he was crying out, pressing his lips into Aaron's shoulders to muffle the sound. "Aaron," he groaned as he came. Then, Aaron was coming too, and he lost himself in the sensation of Robert enveloping him, Robert all around him. Robert wrapped his arms around Aaron's middle, as Aaron cried out. They stayed like that for a moment, catching their breath and enjoying the feel of each other's bodies. All too soon, Robert pulled out. Aaron turned around and hugged his fiancé. "I love you, let's go to bed," he said, still smiling. Robert smiled back, complied instantly. Two nights left. Not long enough. But enough time to make some more memories.
|
10061051
|
This Is Going To Be Way
|
{
"Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply",
"Category": "F/F",
"Characters": "Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Abby Griffin, Original Child Character(s), baby Jake",
"Fandom": "The 100 (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "General Audiences",
"author": "by LostInMyThoughts",
"chapters": "4/4",
"completed": "2017-10-10",
"published": "2017-03-02T00:00:00",
"words": "12,384",
"Additional Tags": "Fake/Pretend Relationship, clexa baby, Clexa Week 2017, Parent Clarke, Best Friends, Light Angst, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers",
"Relationship": "Clarke Griffin/Lexa",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": "Clexa Week 2017",
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
“Are you out of your mind?” Lexa asked the blonde as she spoon fed the little boy some type of mashed vegetable while he sat in his highchair. Clarke had invited her over earlier that day saying she needed to talk to her about something and this...this was the last thing she had ever expected. “There is no way we will get away with it Clarke. Your mom is going to see right through it.”
“She won’t.” Clarke shook her head glancing towards Lexa before moving her attention back to her son. “People say all the time that we could pass as a couple! And you’re so good with Jake! He loves you.” She explained wiping the baby’s mouth before giving him another spoonful of what looked like yellowish white mush.
“He’s 10 months old Clarke, he doesn’t understand love. He just likes the funny faces I make.”
“No way, he loves you I can tell.” Clarke defends. “You love Lexa don’t you baby boy.” She asks the baby who lets out a small giggle and then starts babbling as if he and his mama were having a full on conversation. “See he said he loves you and wants you to be his mama for the month.” Clarke translated shrugging like it couldn’t have been anything else.
“For the month?” Lexa squeals. “I can’t do it Clarke. Ask Bellamy instead.”
“Ew...gross... no, I don’t want to pretend to love Bellamy. You’re way prettier than him.” Clarke smiled. “Plus I may or may not have already told her it was you.” Clarke spits out quickly, avoiding Lexa’s glare.
“Are you fucking kidding me Clarke!” Lexa groaned rolling her eyes at the glare she was now getting for cursing in front of the baby. “Sorry.”
“And no I’m not kidding you.” Clarke confessed, throwing out the now empty container of baby food and dropping a small pile of the cereal puffs that Jake likes on the tray of his highchair. “She called me yesterday saying she had some dream that I was struggling on my own and it’s been bugging her so much that she was playing around with the idea of moving out here. I convinced her to just come and visit to see that we were doing fine by saying I that was dating someone who was great with him.” she explained pointing towards the baby. “Then she of course asked who and you were the first person that popped into my head.”
“Clarke.” Lexa breathed out, but could already feel herself caving into her best friend. Because she always caved in when it came to Clarke.
“Please.” Clarke pouted. “I promise I will make it up to you somehow.” Before Lexa could say anything Jake let out a high pitched scream causing both women to turn back towards him. His hand outstretched to the container with his cereal snacks. “Excuuuse you.” Clarke sang out playfully swiping the little boy’s hand away only to bring about another screech as he reached out for the snack again. Lexa leaned over and dropped a few more pieces of the snack onto his tray and chuckled when he grinned at her shoving two of them into his mouth along with most of his hand. “See that you’re a natural.” Clarke commented running her hand over the boys wispy blonde hair.
“Fine,” Lexa sighs giving in. “I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend for as long as your mom is here.” Clarke jumped up out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck who returned the embrace, her body relaxing into Clarke. Clarke always was the best hugger at least in Lexa’s opinion.
“You are seriously the best friend anyone could have asked for.” Clarke whispers against Lexa’s neck, kissing her cheek before letting her go and taking a step back. “My mom will be here next week so you might want to start bringing some of your stuff over soon.” Clarke mumbles, quickly moving back to the little boy and cleaning him up a little before picking him up out of the highchair.
“Bring my stuff over?” Lexa whined resting her elbows against the counter and dropping her head into her palms. “I already regret this.” She mumbled into her hands.
“It will be fun!” The blonde laughed. “I’m going to give him a quick bath and then put him down. You wanna stay and order pizza and watch a movie?”
“Ya, I’ll order the pizza…” Grabbing her phone from her back pocket she scrolls through her contacts to find the number of the pizza place they always ordered from. “The usual?” she calls to Clarke who has already started up the stairs with Jake.
“Yes please!” Clarke yells over her shoulder disappearing from Lexa’s view altogether.
~*~
A week later Lexa finds herself and much of her belongings sitting in Clarke’s apartment waiting for Abby to arrive. Clarke had been called into work earlier that day expecting to be back before her mother arrived but, the chances of that happening continue to go down as the minutes pass. Lexa holds Jake on her hip as she gets up to see if Clarke has texted her any update but her phone shows no messages. She lets out a deep sigh and the baby in her arms giggles making her smile.
“You’re mama is lucky she is who she is.” She coo’s to Jake, tapping her finger to his nose. She was growing more and more nervous for his grandmother's arrival. She had met Abby a few times in the past but never spent more than a couple hours with the woman and never without Clarke or the boyfriend Clarke had at the time. And definitely never as Clarke’s “girlfriend”.
When she hears a knock on the door she can feel her heart speed up. She adjusts Jake so he is sitting up higher against her chest and walks to the door. She takes a final breath and opens the door plastering a smile on her face. “Mrs Griffin, how are you?” She greets the older women, opening the door and moving aside to let her into the apartment.
“Lexa,” Clarke’s mom smiles back. “Abby is just fine sweetie.” Lexa nods closing the door and Abby brings her hand up to rub the little boys back. “How’s my favorite little guy.” Jake instantly folds into Lexa, hiding his face into her neck and she can’t help the big smile that comes across her face. Okay maybe she can admit that Jake loves her.
“Tired,” Lexa laughs bouncing the little boy slightly and rubbing her thumb against his chubby little cheek. “Jakey say hi to...grandma?” Lexa questions looking back up not sure what exactly Abby had him to call her. She probably should have asked Clarke that beforehand. Abby nods and reaches out for the little boy as Lexa hands him off. He whines for a second or so but relaxes into Abby’s embrace soon enough. Lexa smiles and follows Abby as she heads into the living room. “Clarke got called into the hospital earlier today but hopefully she won’t be too much longer.” Lexa explained, picking up the few toys that she and Jake were playing with earlier. “Me and Jakey have just been hanging out building things.” She beamed, handing Jake one of the blue blocks. She had watched Jake on several occasions for Clarke so she was more than comfortable with his routine, which she supposed was just another reason that Clarke had chosen her for the role.
“No worries, Don’t tell Clarke but I’m really only here for this guy anyway.” Abby winked bouncing the little boy in her lap but keeping her eyes focused on Lexa whose gaze kept watch on the little boy.
“You’re secret is safe with me,” Lexa chuckled looking up at Abby who was still watching her. She blushed slightly under the other woman’s stare but couldn’t explain why. “Can I get you something to drink or something to eat?” Lexa offered rubbing her sweaty palms against her jeans nervously.
“No, I’m okay.” Abby smiled politely. “So…” She started and Lexa gulped knowing what was coming. “You and Clarke huh?” She asked.
“Mhmm,” Lexa nodded, moving her gaze back to the little boy sitting in Abby’s lap.
“When did this happen?” Abby inquired in the way most mothers would. Luckily for Lexa, she and Clarke had expected her mother to ask questions like this and had come up with an entire backstory for themselves. Only Lexa had expected Clarke to not only be here with her but also do most of the answering.
“Um, about four months ago.” Lexa swallowed, jumping a little when she hears the front door swing open and then slam shut. “Oh thank god.” she mumbled to herself turning to see Clarke rushing in.
“I’m so sorry.” She spoke quickly, “I didn’t want to be there that long.”
“No worries.” Lexa smiled standing up turning towards Clarke and away from Abby’s inquisition. She walked over to Clarke with wide eyes wrapping her arms around her wordlessly thanking her for unknowingly bailing her out of answering all her mom’s questions alone.
“I really tried to get here before her,” Clarke whispered into Lexa’s ear. “I’m gonna kiss you now” She whispered again and Lexa nodded. Clarke was quick to unwrap her arms from Lexa and bring her palms up to her cheeks before leaning in and leaving a quick chaste kiss against Lexa’s lips. Although it was quick, Lexa would have sworn that it all happened in slow motion. Her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into Clarke’s touch. The other girls thumbs moving softly against her skin. “
Hm
.” She heard Clarke mumble under her breath and when she looked back up to Clarke she noticed the slight blush that formed on her cheeks. She felt her own cheeks heat up for the second time that day and before she knew it Clarke had moved past her further into the room.
“Hi Clarke,” The blonde’s mother smiled standing up with Jake in her arms. The boy already reaching out towards his mom with a big smile on his face. Clarke walked over closing the distance between them and kissed her mom’s cheek.
“Hi mom.” She pulled back lifting her hands to swipe the little boy from his grandma. “Hi baby, I missed you today.” Clarke spoke softly leaving a bunch of kisses over the boy’s face as he tried to push her away. “How was he today Lex?” She asked turning back towards Lexa who hadn’t moved from her previous spot other to turn around and face them.
“Fine, ya, he was great. Fought a nap earlier but I got him down eventually.” Lexa explained. “He is probably about ready for another one.”
As if on cue Jake let a big yawn escape as he started playing with Clarke’s hair. One of the little tells the boy had that gave away the fact that he was sleepy. “I’ll go put him down real quick.” Clarke announced ready to head upstairs but Lexa stopped her and reached out for the little boy who more than happily switched into her arms.
“I’ve got him. You catch up with your mom.”
“Are you sure babe? You’ve had him all day.” Clarke asked tickling the little boys foot making him giggle. Lexa tensed slightly at the nickname but relaxed and stepped into the role herself.
“I’m sure love,” she smiled leaning in to kiss Clarke’s temple before turning towards the stairs and taking the baby up. She could feel Clarke’s gaze on her back until she turned the corner to walk into the nursery. She could just barely hear Clarke and her mom talking from downstairs and felt a little guilty for leaving Clarke alone to answer the rest of her mom’s questions but she also knew that Clarke could handle herself.
The rest of the night seemed to go by smoothly as both Lexa and Clarke fell into their roles. Abby had got Jake from his nap and they all had a nice dinner talking about Clarke’s day at the hospital, Abby’s travel and even the towers the Lexa and Jake built that day. There was no more kissing but each of them threw out subtle little touches when they felt they were called for or when they noticed Abby watching them.
“This is going to be way easier than I thought it would be.” Clarke admits when Abby excuses herself to use the restroom. After Clarke put Jake down for the night, the three of them had started watching a movie in the living room with Clarke snuggled up to Lexa on one couch and Abby laying back in the chair next to them.
“I hope so,” Lexa hummed moving herself so that her head was lying in Clarke’s lap. Something that was a common occurrence between the two. ”Did she seem convinced when she was asking about us when you got home?” Lexa questioned, closing her eyes as Clarke started running her fingers through her hair.
“Yeah, she said you have heart eyes for my son.” Clarke chuckled and Lexa turned up to face her.
“Can, you blame me?” She smiled and Clarke’s eyes met her’s.
“Not even a little bit.” Clarke admitted.
“Alright ladies, It’s been a long travel day for me so I think I’m going to head to bed.” Abby yawned as she walked back over to them.
“Okay mom, I washed the sheets and made the bed for you yesterday but let me know if you need anything.”
“I should be fine. Night honey.” Abby smiled leaning down and kissing Clarke’s forehead. “Night Lexa.” She added before turning and heading to the guest bedroom. Clarke yawned her day catching up to her as well.
“You can go to bed, I’ll just sleep on the couch.” Lexa offered and Clarke looked at her with furrowed brows.
“Lexa, you can’t sleep on my couch for the next few weeks. You’re sleeping with me.” She chuckled tapping Lexa’s head to signal her to get up. “Besides what if my mom comes back out here and sees you on the couch?” She reasons and Lexa sighs even though she knows that Clarke is right.
“Did you really think I was going to make you sleep on the couch the whole time?” Clarke asked standing up and heading to her own room before stopping and waiting for Lexa to join her.
“I guess I didn’t really think about it until now.” Lexa admitted following Clarke into the bedroom.
“Well I’ll keep Jakey’s monitor down low so that it doesn’t wake you up if he wakes up.” Clarke promised grabbing a large tee shirt out of her dresser and heading into her bedroom.
“I’m not worried about that Clarke,” Lexa offered grabbing some of her own clothes to throw on while Clarke was in the bathroom.
Once she was dressed in a loose fitting tank top and a pair of boxer shorts that she always slept in she slipped into Clarke’s bed and waited for her to come out of the bathroom. Clarke’s sheets smelt just like Clarke with a strong scent of vanilla and just a little hint of something that reminded Lexa of fall. Cinnamon maybe. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the bed but when she opened her eyes again her entire body stiffened. Clarke had come out of the bathroom in just an old thin grey tee shirt from the college the both had attended. Not only that, but the shirt had ridden up above her hips, showing off the light blue underwear she had on as she unclasped the chain she always wore with her father’s wedding band on it. She clenched her jaw as she turned away and reminded herself that she could do this. She could do this for Clarke. She could pretend to be in love with her. She could
pretend
to pretend to be in love with her. Because she has known for a quite a long time that she was actually, most definitely, irrevocably, in love with her already.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
About a week into Abby's stay the younger women seemed to fall into their charade easily. All things were going to plan and Abby seemed to be none the wiser of what was going on around her. Lexa smiled up at the older woman as she walked into the kitchen where Lexa already had a pot of coffee on.
“Good morning Abby,” Lexa smiled turning around and pulling another mug out of the cabinet knowing that Clarke’s mother would want a cup as well. “Coffee should be done in another minute.”
“Morning and sounds great. I don’t know what we would do without it every morning.” Abby smiled taking a seat at the counter opposite of where Lexa was standing waiting for the coffee.
“Tell me about it, I don’t think I would get through a page nevermind two chapters worth of writing if I didn’t have coffee.” Abby chuckled as Lexa joked. Though in all honesty Lexa’s words held more weight that she’d care to admit. Caffeine was most certainly her drug of choice. Clarke has told her on numerous occasions that she has a caffeine addiction.
“Is Clarke still sleeping?” Abby asked, seeming surprised that her daughter wasn’t up yet. Lexa shakes her head as she grabs the now finished coffee pot.
“No, she is upstairs getting Jake dressed and ready for the day.” She explains, filling each of their mugs up as well as a travel mug for Clarke to take to work. Clarke had taken the previous week off from the hospital to spend with her mom, other than the day that Abby arrived when she was called in on an emergency.
“Oh, is she taking Jake to work with her?” Abby asks, accepting the mug that Lexa hands her. “Thank you.”
“I believe she is yes.” Lexa nodded just as Clarke came into the kitchen carrying Jake in one arm and his bag in the other.
“Good morning.” She smiled, handing the baby off to her mother and placing his diaper bag onto the counter. Lexa turned to her handing her the coffee she had made.
“A little bit of cream and way too much sugar.” Lexa smiled “Just the way you like it.”
“You’re seriously the best.” Clarke practically moaned, trading the mug now in her hand for a small kiss on Lexa’s cheek. Lexa’s chest warmed at how simple the exchange seemed to be.
“Why don’t you leave Jake here with us?” Abby offers, pulling the baby’s shirt that had ridden up over his belly back down.
“It’s okay, he does really well in the daycare at the hospital and I actually get to spend a good amount of time with him there.” Clarke shrugs placing her coffee on the counter. “Plus I know Lexa has a lot of work she has to get done today so…”
“I do.” Lexa admits, taking a long sip from her coffee. “I actually need to stop by my publisher's office for a bit today too.”
“Well, leave him with me. I need to get in as much grammy time as I can.” Abby insists, turning the little boy in her arms so that he is facing her and leaving several kisses below his chin.
“I don’t know mom...it could be a long day and--” Clarke starts hesitantly but Abby quickly stops her.
“Clarke, I am his grandmother and I raised you and you came out mostly fine.” She winked towards Lexa who failed to hold back a chuckle. Clarke turns toward the brunette lightly slapping her arm for her betrayal.
“If you’re sure, I’ll leave him here with you then.” Clarke smiles unsurely, stepping back towards her mother and the little boy in her lap. “You be a good boy.” She coos softly to the baby running her thumb over his cheek before leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “You pretty much know where everything is now, but if you have any questions or need anything at all please call me.”
“We’ll be fine.” Her mother waves her off as Clarke moves around back to the other side of the counter. She places her hand over Lexa’s lower back.
“I guess I will see you all later then. Good luck with your meeting today?” Clarke asks, her voice rising at the end in question as if she really isn’t sure it’s something she needed to do.
“Are you asking me or telling me?” Lexa chuckled.
“Telling?” Clarke asks again, unsure.
“I’ll take it.” Lexa nods, laughing under her breath until Clarke leans in to kiss her. She feels Clarke’s warm hand still resting on her back, even pushing her just slightly towards her own body. Her lips are soft and even though the kiss is quick she can taste the minty toothpaste Clarke must have used to brush her teeth a little while earlier. She feels her heartbeat quicken and hope Clarke isn’t close enough to feel it. When Clarke moves away from her Lexa immediately feels the loss of warmth that came with her hand. She reminds herself that it’s all a show and that she needs to reel herself in. She smiles at Clarke who winks back before she turns to grab her coffee off the counter.
“Have a good day.” Lexa offers as Clarke moves towards the little boy and gives him another sweet little kiss.
“You too, and Mom really please call me if you need anything. I’ll check in when I can.” Clarke points to her mom before she moves to grab her bag and the keys on a table by the door. “Okay, love you all!” Clarke yells behind her shoulder as she rushes out the door.
Both Lexa and Abby let out long breaths and Lexa feels her body relax a little. The past week for the most part had been easy, but some of Clarke’s subtle touches were starting to become a little too much for Lexa. She can still feel Clarkes hand on her lower back when Abby starts to speak.
“Is she always that hesitant leaving him with someone?” The older woman asks, bouncing the baby who is now fussing in her lap. Lexa chuckles and nods before reaching over to the bag that Clarke had packed for Jake and pulling out one of his cereal bar snacks.
“She is. The first time she left him with me, I think she called me every fifteen minutes until I threatened to turn my phone of and insisted that we were fine.” She unwraps that bar and hands it over to Jake who happily takes it and settles once again in Abby’s lap.
“She’ll get over that eventually. I was the same way with her when she was a baby.” Abby laughs. Lexa smiles and watches as Jake sucks on the cereal bar more than he actually chews it. She takes another sip of her coffee and glances down at her watch realizing that she needs to get going or she was going to be late to her meeting with her publisher.
“I’ve actually go to get going too.” Lexa admits, a look of apology running across her face. She turns to the cabinet behind her and pulls out her favorite travel mug. A mug that she had brought over with some of her other stuff to make it look more like she lived there with Clarke. She dumps the rest of her coffee into the travel mug and then offers Abby a refill before she tops her own off. “I’m sure that Clarke will call you throughout the day,” Lexa smirks, matter of factly. “But If you need anything call me first.” She grabbed a pen and notepad from one of the drawers and quickly jotted down her number for the older woman to have in case she needed it. “No need to worry Clarke. If she is with a patient and can’t answer right away just knowing that you called could send her into a world of anxiety until she gets the chance to call you back. Trust me I learned that lesson.” Lexa explains laughing. Abby smiles up at Lexa who can feel herself starting to blush again before she quickly turns away to grab her coffee and make her way around the counter to her things.
“I’m sure it will all be fine.” Abby insists again standing to put Jake in his highchair. Lexa nods and makes her way to the door only to have Abby follow her. “Hey Lexa.” She calls out and Lexa turns to face her again. “Thank you. For being here and helping them. It’s easy to see how much you love them both.” Lexa feels her entire body freeze. Was she that good at acting or was she that obvious in her feelings towards the woman’s daughter? She take a second to think about how she should respond but ultimately her heart takes over and she lets those true feelings out.
“They make it really easy to love them.” She admits softly, making Abby smile even more.
“They do don’t they.” Abby agrees.
“I should only be a few hours.” Lexa says before she moves out the door, letting Abby shut it behind her.
~*~
After her meeting and a few hours of writing at her own apartment Lexa heads back to Clarke’s house. She is almost arrived back when her phone starts ringing.
“Hey Abby, everything okay?” She asks. Before Abby even has the chance to say anything. She can hear Jake crying in the background.
“Yeah,” Abby sighs. “Just having some trouble getting him to nap. I was hoping you’d have some helpful tricks?” She asked.
“I’m actually right down the street and I do have a secret weapon when it comes to sleep.” Lexa laughs.
“Oh good, we’ve been at this for a good half hour. You’d think he’s cry himself to sleep by now!” Abby exclaims.
“Stubborn just like his mom.” Lexa laughs over the phone. “I’m pulling up now I’ll be right in.”
“Okay see you in a minute.” Abby replies before ending the call.
When Lexa gets inside the house the first thing she hears is Jake’s wailing. She puts her bag and keys down and digs for her phone that she had just dropped into the bag on her way in. Making her way into Jake’s room she sees Abby leaning over his crib rubbing his back and trying to get him to lay down.
“I tried reading to him, I tried walking around with him, we sat in his rocking chair.” Abby explained. “He is just not having it.” They both look back to the boy who is standing in his crib holding on to it’s side, tears streaming down his face. Lexa frowns and picks him up out of the crib. “Hopefully you have more luck than I did.” Abby frowns running her hand soothingly up and down the little boys back.
“Thanks,” Lexa laughs and Abby excuses herself from the room. “Alright kiddo,” Lexa starts pulling her phone out of her pocket and opening up her itunes. “Let’s see,” Lexa says to herself swaying slightly with the little boy in her arms. “Oh here we go, you like this one.” She clicks the song and puts the phone down on Jake’s changing table. She sways with him as the music starts and she quietly starts to sing along with the song.
“Baby I need you lovin’, Got to have all your lovin.”
She wipes away the tears that still roll down the boy’s cheeks as she try’s to get him to relax.
“
Another day, 'nother night, I long to hold you tight 'cause I'm so lonely baby, I need your lovin”
She continues and Jake finally seems to start to calm down. She gently pushes his head down onto her shoulder as she continues to move about the room swaying and singing along to the music.
“Baby I need your lovin' got to have all you lovin' some say it's a sign of weakness for a man to beg, then weak I'd rather be If it means having you to keep ‘cause lately I've been losing sleep”
Lexa looks down at the boy, who has now completely relaxed into her, fighting to keep his eyes open. She smiles and shakes her head. Her secret weapon. Thank goodness he has better taste in music then his mama does Lexa thinks to herself, still swaying about the room.
“
Baby I need your lovin, got to have all your lovin.”
Before the song is over Jake is passed out in Lexa’s arms but she continues to move and sing along to the music. She turns her direction and jumps slightly when she see’s Abby standing in the doorway, her phone in hand as if she had just taken a picture or was getting ready to.
“You scared me.” Lexa whispers, moving to put Jake in his crib.
“That’s your secret weapon? To sing to him?” Abby beams and Lexa flushes in embarrassment at being caught.
“Not just singing, it has to be motown or jazz. It works everytime.” She smiles shyly.
“What does Clarke think about that?” Abby laughs knowing her daughter's taste in music and knowing that motown is not high on the list.
“She doesn’t know. It’s our little secret” Lexa admits tilting her head towards Jake. “They have their own routines.” She points out as both women leave the nursery, Abby swiping the baby monitor on the way out.
~*~
Later that night Lexa is unable to fall asleep and lies awake, restless in Clarke’s bed. Throughout the day Abby had shared with Lexa how happy it made her knowing that Clarke and Jake had her to help them out. But Abby’s words didn’t make Lexa feel good like she intended them to. Instead they made her feel more and more guilty about the lying and even worse they made her realize how badly she wished they weren’t lying. That this wasn’t just a show they were putting on for the older woman's stay. A small sigh escapes her lips before she can stop it and she turns on to her back, staring up at the ceiling. It doesn’t take much more fidgeting before Clarke turns onto her own back and lets out a sigh to match the one Lexa let escape just minutes before.
“Lexa...what’s wrong?” She questions turning her head to look towards Lexa lying next to her. “ I can hear your overworking brain from here.” Lexa avoids looking at the blonde and instead moves her hands to rub over her eyes.
“I feel guilty. Lying to your mom.” Lexa confesses dropping her hands down onto the bed by her sides. “She keeps telling me how great I am for you and Jake and that I’m so good with Jake. That she’s glad you have me and feels better knowing that you aren’t alone.” She bursts out, finishing off with another frustrated sigh. Clarke laughs and turns her body so she is lying on her side facing Lexa.
“Lex… That means that our plan is working the way we hoped. We wanted her to see that we were all good and being taken care of.”
“I know.” Lexa breathes, finally turning to look towards the blonde who was smiling. “What?” She asks not being able to stop her own grin from forming.
“She did send me an adorable picture of you holding Jake passed out in his nursery earlier.” She admits.
“I knew she took a picture.” Lexa laughed.
“I have to admit that you look pretty great with my son in your arms.” Clarke confess softly. Lexa silently thanks the darkness that covers the room because she knows it is concealing the blush on her cheeks.
“You’ve seen me hold him hundreds of times Clarke.”
“I know...I guess I just never really stopped to look and appreciate it.” Clarke whispers as she closes her eyes again. Lexa feels her heart flutter at the other girl’s words and has the sudden urge to reach out and run her thumb over the blonde’s lips but quickly reminds herself that she can’t. A few moments of silence pass and Lexa thinks that Clarke must have fallen back asleep. However just as she closes her eyes to try and fall asleep she hears Clarke say her name.
“Lexa, you shouldn’t feel guilty about any of this. We may be exaggerating it all but Jake and I do have you. I couldn’t do this without all your help. It’s fun playing house with you,” she chuckles before growing serious again. “But, you have seriously been my rock for this last year and I couldn’t have done it without you. So thanks for doing this, and for being my best friend and practically a second mother to my son.” Clarke leans in a leaves a soft kiss against Lexa’s cheek before wrapping her fingers around her wrist and pulling Lexa’s arm around her waist. She scoots herself closer to Lexa and settles into her warm embrace. Lexa’s body quickly relaxes and curls itself around Clarke, tightening her grip around her waist.
“You’re wrong ya know?” Lexa whispers. “You’re stronger than you think and if you had to... you would be just fine on your own.”
“Well, lucky I don’t have to be.” Clarke whispers back giving Lexa’s hand a soft squeeze.
Lexa feels her body grow warm at the closeness of the blonde and wishes more than anything that this was a normal occurrence for them. That this was how they always fell asleep, together and in eachothers arms. She lays there long enough to hear Clarke’s breath even out to signal that she had fallen back asleep. Clarke was right when she said it would be easier than they thought to convince her mom. But in the past week Lexa has realized that hiding her true feelings for her best friend was definitely not going to be as easy as she had once thought.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Clarke throws herself down on the couch with a heavy drawn out sigh and Lexa knows immediately that she is fishing for something, she just isn’t sure what or who from. Lexa turns to look toward the blonde as she lays back and throws her legs over Lexa’s lap. Just as she is about to speak up and ask Clarke what’s wrong, the girl lets out another exaggerated sigh.“Everything alright sweetie?” Abby asks, looking up from the book in her hands and towards her daughter.“Hmm?” Clarke asks innocently. Her eyes focused on the baby sitting on the floor in front of her playing with some of his toys.“You just let out a giant sigh.” Abby laughed.“I did?”“You did.” Lexa adds and Clarke turns to face her with a quick smile before turning back towards the little boy who is now slowly crawling his way towards the couch and his momma.“Oh, I guess I was just thinking.” Clarke starts, carefully reaching down to pick up Jake and sit him on her stomach. She runs her finger down his nose drawing out a small giggle from him and a smile from herself before she continues her thought. “Tonight would usually be date night. Octavia watches Jake so that Lexa and I can go out and have a night for just the two of us. But, we cancelled this time around to spend time with you while you’re here.”“Oh girls, you really didn’t have to do that.” Abby points out.“It’s really okay mom, I guess I just didn’t realize how much I look forward to that every few weeks that’s all.” Jake fidgets in her lap, losing his balance but Clarke’s hands are there quickly to catch and stabilize him.“Oopsie!” She sings in what Lexa call’s her “Jake voice” before she gives him another smile. Lexa finds herself smiling at the interaction too.“Don’t be ridiculous. You guys go out and have a nice night together. I’ll stay with Jakey.” Clarke hums in thought and then looks around Jake and towards Lexa who has now fully caught onto the scheme as well as the hint in Clarke’s eyes that ask her to just go along with it.“I don’t know… What do you think babe? She asks her best friend with a wicked smile coming across her lips. Lexa smiles and shakes her head. Clarke is good. She will give her that.“It would be nice.” Lexa shrugs, “Nothing like having a drink with a pretty girl. Especially one that I call mine.” she winks and immediately feels a rush or warmth as she watches Clarke’s cheeks turn a not so subtle shade of red. They keep locked onto each other's gazes with Lexa’s own face blushing to match Clarke’s until Abby chuckles and breaks them out of their moment.“Well then it’s settled. Go. Get ready and go have a nice night together. The older women insists. Clarke smiles and instantly jumps up from the couch with Jake tucked into her side. She walks the short distance to her mother and places a small kiss to the woman’s temple.“Thanks Mom.”“Of course.” The older woman smiles as she watches Clarke practically skip away.“You gonna help momma pick a nice dress baby?” They hear Clarke say as she and Jake head up the stairs. The little boy answering with mumbled and babbled noises that sound close to words. Abby turns towards Lexa who is standing from the couch and gives her a wink.“Thanks Abby.” Lexa laughs as she picks up the few glasses on the coffee table to bring to the kitchen.When Lexa walks into Clarke’s room a few minutes later she sees Jake happily sitting on the floor with the corner of one of his books inside his mouth.“What do you think baby, should momma wear the blue dress or the red one.” Clarke asks from her closet turned away from Jake and now Lexa who stands at the door. Jake pulls the book from his mouth and holds it out to Lexa as he speaks in rambled sounds. Lexa chuckles and quietly walks into the room, sitting on the floor next to Jake. “You’re totally right bud, the blue one does bring out my eyes. Good Cho-” Clarke stops and smiles when she turns to face Jake but is now met with Lexa as well. “Oh hey.”“I agree with Jake, the blue one definitely brings out your eyes.” Lexa nods her head as the little boy climbs into her lap and takes the book back. “So where are we going for our date night?”“Ugh, anywhere. I’m feeling stir-crazy. I need a night out that is both mom and baby free.” She laughs pulling the dress from the closet and shutting the door behind her. “I was thinking just dinner somewhere then some drinks. How’s that sound?”“Sounds like a date.” Lexa smiles.“Perfect, you mind watching him so I can shower real quick?” The blonde asks.“Not at all but hurry because I want to shower too. I got a hot date that I gotta look good for tonight.”“Oh please,” Clarke rolls her eyes. “Even if it were a real date and you show’d up in sweatpants and a tee shirt you would still like stunning.” Clarke admits before shutting the bathroom door. Breaking Lexa’s heart and making it race all in one sentence.“If only it were a real date right pal.” She sighs to the little boy, opening the book in his hands to she could read it to him. ~*~ “Oh. My. Gosh.” Clarke practically moans as she takes another bite of her dinner. “This is seriously the best meal I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.” She finishes bringing her glass of wine up to her lips.“You just love all food.” Lexa laughs taking a sip from her own glass of wine. The blonde across from her smiles and shrugs her shoulders while she nods in agreement.“I do,” She happily agrees. “But this is on a whole other level!” She takes another fork full of the salmon on her plate and holds it out to Lexa. “Try it,” she insists and Lexa happily obliges leaning into the table and wrapping her lips around the fork. She lets out a small hum and closes her eyes in appreciation.“Okay, that is way better than mine.” She confesses as she brings a fork full of pasta up to Clarke's now waiting lips.“That’s really good too.”They settle into a lull of silence for a few minutes each enjoying their own meals while stealing a few more bites of the others. Lexa smiles and can’t help but continuously notice how beautiful her best friend is and how the blue dress the she picked out really does bring out the blue in her eyes. She realizes that Clarke has noticed her staring when the girl sends her wink, causing Lexa to blush. She takes another quick sip from her wine to hide her embarrassment.“I’m really glad we did this.” Lexa admits with a smile. “It’s been such a long time since I have been to a nice dinner.”“What? Are you bring all your dates out to some crappy fast food restaurants?” Clarke teases.“Please, “ Lexa scoffs. “I’m a great date! I just haven’t been on one in…” She stops to think back to when she actually was on a date last but couldn’t remember. “I can’t even remember to be honest.”“Ugh, tell me about it. With Jake, and working at the hospital there is just no time to go on dates.“But if you found the right someone I’m sure you could make time for them.”“Yeah,” Clarke sighs. “I guess it’s more that I just don’t care to do it. I”m perfectly happy with where I am in my life right now. Plus I’ve got Jake and I’ve got you. So any date would have an awful lot to live up to.” Clarke gives Lexa another wink and she can’t help but wonder if Clarke is trying to flirt with her. “What about you? What’s your excuses?” Clarke questions, taking another sip of wine before grabbing the bottle that sat on their table and refilling both of their glasses.“I mean definitely the time. I’m pushing really hard to finish the first draft to this book. And I guess I’m just not interested in anyone?” She finishes, her voice slightly rising towards the end.“Are you sure about that one?” Clarke laughs, “you seemed to maybe question yourself towards the end of that sentence.”“I don’t know.” Lexa grumbles taking another bite of her food to avoid answering any further.“Oh,” Clarke raises her eyebrows. “Maybe there is someone?” Lexa shrugs avoiding her Clarke's questioning eyes. “Well she would be stupid to pass you up.” She pauses for a moment and then adds an after thought. “I mean You’re pretty incredible.”Before Lexa could rebuttal Clarke’s statement their waitress walks up to their table and asks them if they wanted anything else to drink or anything for dessert. Clarke takes a quick look at the time on her phone before looking back up to the waitress. “Actually, just the check please.” She smiles politely at the waitress, who nods and turns to walk away.“Clarke Griffin doesn’t want dessert?” Lexa feigns shock bringing her hand to her chest.“Clarke Griffin ALWAYS wants dessert! And I bet the dessert here would be heaven in my mouth. But, we have somewhere else to be,” she explains.“Bars are open all night Clarke,” Lexa smirks. “I think we can make time for some dessert.”“Well we aren’t going to a bar.” Clarke says giving Lexa her famous smirk right back to her and grabbing the check from the server when she makes it back to the table. Lexa reaches for her wallet but Clarke is already prepared and has snuck her credit card out and back into the server's hand. “Thank you.” Clarke smiles to the server who walks away before Lexa can fight Clarke on splitting the bill.“Clarke,” she whined tilting her head to the side. “I would have paid, or at least split the bill with you.”“Don’t be silly. I’ve got this. Besides it’s our first date after all.” Clarke gives her yet another flirty wink and Lexa counts three. That was three winks in one night and she starts to wonder if she is imagining it or if Clarke really is flirting with Lexa just a little bit. She shakes her head but can’t help the smile that appears thanks to her thoughts.“Fine, thank you Clarke.” She brings her glass of wine up to her mouth and takes the last sip. “So where are we going if not to the bar?” She asks Clarke who is still grinning from ear to ear.“That is a surprise.” Clarke notes as she stands from her chair. “But, we do have to go or we are going to be late.” She grabs her bag and throws it over her shoulder before reaching her hand out for Lexa to take. Cautiously, Lexa takes it and lets her pull her out of her chair and through the restaurant, smiling at the fact the Clarke doesn’t drop her hand until they reach the car.“Can I have a clue?” Lexa asks as Clarke drives them to their next location.“Um...” Lexa watches as Clarke bites her bottom lip in thought. “Okay.” She decides but doesn’t say anything else.“Okaaay…?” Lexa says to coax the clue out of her best friend.“You’re going to love it. “ Clarke smiles innocently.“Clarke! That is not a clue.” The brunette complains.“Okay real clue… it involves music.” Clarke laughs when she glances at Lexa and sees that her eyebrows are furrowed as she thinks.“A concert?” Lexa asks.“No,” Clarke shakes her head and Lexa sighs dejectedly.“You know I hate surprises.”“Relax, we're almost there.” Clarke laughs and takes the next turn.A few minutes later Clarke turns onto the final street and Lexa shoots her hand out to grab her arm realizing where Clarke is taking them when the theater comes into view. Clarke laughs and continues a little ways down the street to a small parking lot.“Clarke...you got Phantom of the Opera tickets for us?”“I did, I know it’s your favorite.” The blonde beams. “They are from one of the doctors I work with who couldn’t go to the show so we got his box seats. We just have to get them at will call.”“This is the best date I’ve ever been on.” Lexa spits out excitedly. ~*~ The drive back to the house was filled almost entirely with Lexa’s continuous thanks to Clarke for their night out and how much she enjoyed and loved the show. She would admit that at times she’d start to feel a little insecure about blabbering on about her favorite parts but Clarke always chimed in at the right moment and reassured her that she liked hearing about the show. Every now and then Clarke would even add in something that she really liked too.“Seriously Clarke, I can’t thank you enough. Tonight was a lot of fun.” Lexa beamed as she stepped out of the car. Her gaze darts towards the second floor and the light that is on in the spare room that Abby is staying in. She laughs when she notices Abby not so subtly watching them from the window. “Don’t look but your mom is definitely creeping on us out the window.” She shakes her head when Clarke doesn’t listen and lets her eyes take a quick glance up. “I feel like I’m in high school dropping you off back at your parents house after a Friday night date.” Lexa chuckles and notices the mischievous smirk that comes across Clarke’s face.“Kiss me.” She tells Lexa reaching out and grabbing her waist, slowly pulling her closer to her. “Like, really kiss me.” She clarifies and Lexa feels her stomach drop.“Wh-what?” Lexa manages to squeak out as Clarke leans in further towards her. “Lexa, just kiss me.” Clarke whispers, this time her focus moving between Lexa’s lips and her soft green eyes.Lexa swallows the lump in her throat as she nods and slowly moves to close the distance between the two of them. She hesitates for one final second, her heart feeling as though it would beat right through her chest, exposing every feeling she’s been keeping hidden right along with it. This is a moment she has dreamt about. Thought about for as long as she can remember and although it’s not quite like how she’s imagined it, she still feels terribly nervous and determined for it to be perfect. She watches as Clarke’s eyes flutter closed just before her own and then she connects their lips. Clarke’s lips are soft and move slowly against her own, allowing Lexa to control everything. When she feels the hands on her hips tighten their grip and pull her impossibly closer, she brings her own hands up to the blonde’s face, resting her palms just under her ears, her fingers wrapping around to the back of her neck. Lexa runs her tongue along Clarke’s lips that part in response. She slowly backs them into the car and deepens the kiss. She hears a slight gasp from Clarke which only inspires Lexa to take the kiss another step further. What once started out as soft and slow turns into something desperate and passionate. Both girls forgetting about Abby, who has already turned away, and instead allow themselves to get completely lost within each other. Lexa feels the grip on her hips loosen and instead she feels Clarke’s hand travel up underneath her shirt, resting on her lower back still pulling her closer. A small moan escapes from Lexa when Clarke takes her bottom lip between her own and bites down gently before releasing. Embarrassed and breathless, Lexa takes a step back and breaks away from Clarke.“I’m sorry, I--” Lexa starts, feeling as if she took the kiss too far. but Clarke shakes her head and stops her.“No, don’t apologize. “ Clarke blushes, “That-- I mean I--” She stops and Lexa watches as she runs her fingers over her swollen lips. “Let’s just go inside.” She smiles, unable to finish whatever thought she was trying to get out only a second ago. Lexa nods and allows Clarke to take her hand and lead her into the quiet house. Behind her Lexa can't wipe the smile off of her lips. Her own fingers grazing over where Clarke's lips had just been and her mind replaying it over and over.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Lexa notices right away that something is off with Clarke. They spend the next hour quietly sitting together in the living room and watching reruns on the TV. Whenever Lexa glances over at Clarke she’s biting at her nails and her brows are furrowed, creating a few wrinkles over her forehead. When she notices Lexa staring at her she turns and gives her a small smile before turning her attention back to the TV, or more likely whatever thoughts are causing those cute little crinkles in her forehead. Lexa can’t help but feel anxious about the kiss in front of her house. She can’t help but think she took things too far and now Clarke was going to be uncomfortable around her. She hears a drawn out yawn from the girl running through her own mind and turns to see her now leaning forwards to grab the remote off the coffee table.
“You ready for bed, I’m beat.” Clarke confesses, shutting off the TV and standing from the couch.
“Yeah, right behind you.” Lexa stands to follow Clarke up to her room. She’s quiet again as they both get ready to go to sleep and she mostly keeps to herself which is unlike the routine they’d created in the past few weeks while Lexa has been staying over. When Clarke gets into bed Lexa heads into the bathroom to take her contacts out, brush her teeth and wash her face. Once she is finished she comes back out, a smile breaking free as Clarke lifts the comforter for her to join.
“Thank you for tonight, I really had so much fun.” Lexa whispers once she is snuggled underneath the blankets.
Clarke yawns again and nods her head in agreement. “Me too.” There is a few minutes of silence that pass before Lexa breaks it.
“Are you okay?” Lexa asks turning to her side to look at Clarke, whose closed eyes open to stare back towards Lexa.
“Yeah, just exhausted.” Clarke answers but Lexa doesn’t believe her. “Lexa, I’m fine. I promise.” She whispers sincerely and grabs Lexa’s hand to hold before she closes her eyes. “Go to sleep.” She says and Lexa nods, letting it go for now and closing her own eyes.
She lays there for quite sometime unsure if she’d fallen asleep for a short while and just woke up or if she had just been lying there with her eyes closed for the time that had passed. Her mind is flooded with thoughts of the girl lying beside her. Listening closely she can hear the steady breath escaping from Clarke’s lips. She feels their fingers still intertwined but Lexa carefully slips out of the girl’s grip deciding she just needs a minute for herself. She sits up in the bed rubbing the sleep from her eyes before standing to make her way out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen.
She flips on the small light that is over the stove and grabs a glass to fill with water that she sips down greedily before filling it once again. “Fuck,” she sighs to herself turning and leaning against the counter. She holds the glass of water against her chest and stares blankly ahead into the darkness of the house. “What have I gotten myself into.” She mutters to herself. Things were just fine the way they were before all of this. She could manage her feelings for Clarke as she hid them in the back of her mind. But now after these few weeks, and after tonight, Lexa wasn’t sure she could go back to how things were. Go back to pining for her best friend’s touch, for her sweet smiles and her soft lips. “Fuck.” Lexa grumbles again shaking her head and taking one last sip of water and a deep steadying breath before turning to dump the rest of glass out in the sink, the glass slipping from her hand and falling into the sink with a loud crash. Lexa cringes and waits to see if the noise had woken anyone up but after a few seconds of hearing nothing she settles, shuts the light off and heads back up the stairs. However, when she gets close enough to the nursery she can hear Jake has woken up and has started a soft cry for attention. Lexa opens the door and sneaks into the baby's room, closing the door behind her to keep his subtle cries from waking anyone else in the house.
“Hey Jakey,” Lexa whispers walking over to the crib and the upset little boy. “Shh, shh. It’s okay buddy.” She picks him up and he instantly sinks himself into her embrace. She rocks him back and forth for a little while rubbing soothing circles over his back. “I don’t have my phone so we are going to have to do this the old fashion way kid.” She chuckles to herself running through songs that she knew by heart. “I’ve got a good one. ” She smiled, “this one makes me think of your momma.” She adds before she starts to hum the tune to herself and then starts softly with the lyrics. “
The night we met I knew I needed you so. And If I had the chance I’d never let you go
.” She sang sweetly, still swaying back and forth for the little boy in her arms. She switches back to humming the next few lines before she hits the chorus and goes back to the words.
“
So won't you, please, be my be my baby. Be my little baby, my one and only baby. Say you'll be my darlin', be my be my baby.”
She hears the baby's breaths even out and knows if he isn’t already asleep that he is well on his way to be. Still, she stops and whispers to him, “These are my favorite lines coming up next.” She smiles and lets a quick yawn escape her mouth before she continues her singing
“
I'll make you happy, baby, just wait and see. For every kiss you give me I'll give you three.”
She hums the rest of the song before she places the little boy, who is now sleeping soundly once again back in his crib. Smiling at him she swipes her thumb over his cheek and lets out a small sigh. “You are as sweet as your momma kiddo.” She coo’s to the sleeping baby before turning around and softly closing the door to his nursery.
Lexa quietly makes her way back towards Clarke’s bedroom expecting to slip in unnoticed and hopefully fall asleep. Instead when she turns into the door she freezes in her spot. Her gaze meets Clarke’s tear filled eyes that are only visible in the dark because of the small amount of light coming from the baby monitor that Clarke holds in her hands. Lexa panics as Clarke stands from the bed, baby monitor still in hand.
“Clarke, you're crying. What--” She starts before Clarke cuts her off.
“You sing to him?” She asks tears still strolling down her cheeks. Lexa blushes at being caught and brings her hand up to her neck nervously.
“I went for a glass of water and I think I woke him up when I accidentally dropped the glass and that’s what we do… I mean that’s how I get him to go to sleep. We sing our favorite songs. Well I do all the singing and their my favorite songs I guess… but it’s our thing. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.” Lexa rambles nervously as Clarke approaches her.
“You sing your crappy music to my baby to help him sleep?” Clarke asks again, now smiling through the tears.
“I won’t any more, I don’t want to make you upset or uncomfortable.”
Clarke laughs and throws the baby monitor onto her bed. “Lexa,” she laughs. “I’m not upset. And hearing you sing to him makes me feel a lot of things but uncomfortable is not one of them.” The blonde assures her, intertwining their hands. “Very much the opposite in fact. These-” Clarke adds pointing to her teary eyes. “-are my mom tears...tears of a completely warm and melty mom heart.” She laughs as she explains to Lexa who still hasn’t relaxed. “Okay?” Clarke asks to make sure Lexa gets that she is not uncomfortable. Lexa nods her head but still has another question that has been ringing through her head.
“Did our kiss, in front of the house…” She stops and moves her eyes away from Clarke’s own gaze. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“What? Lexa, no. Not even a little bit.” Clarke assures her.
“You just got really quiet afterwards and I don’t think--”
“Lexa stop, I promise It didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just... I didn’t realize… I mean…” Lexa watches as Clarke tries to put together the words that she wants to say. “I think it’s…” She huffs in frustration and wipes the few tears that still lay over her cheeks away. “Can I just…” Clarke starts and moves in closer to Lexa. Lexa watches as Clarke takes her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes darting down towards Lexa’s lips quickly before moving back up her face. “I’m going to just…” She whispers inches away from Lexa’s face before she closes all distance between them kissing Lexa.
Taken off guard Lexa lets a small gasp escape from her mouth. Her shoulders rise as Clarke’s hand cups the back of her neck. Clarke moves slowly and softly giving Lexa the chance to pull away and break the kiss if she wants to. Instead Lexa relaxes into it, moving her own hands up to cradle Clarke’s face. They move almost hesitantly still unsure of themselves and what exactly is taking place and when Clarke moves back just slightly Lexa follows her not wanting the kiss to end just yet. When she does break apart from Clarke she looks into her eyes trying to find any sign of regret in the blonde’s eyes but there is none. Clarke leans back into Lexa, resting their foreheads together, their noses brushing just slightly.
“Lexa--”
“I’m in love with you,” Lexa whimpers closing her eyes as soon as she lets the words slip out. She feels Clarke take a step back from her and her heart instantly breaks.
“You…” Clarke starts to speak but now that Lexa has let it slip she finds she has to let it all out, all of the feelings she has hidden for quite some time now.
“I...I have been for as long as I can remember and I’m sorry. I thought I could keep these feelings in check and just be your best friend. And it was all fine, but these past few weeks.” She stops to take a breath and a moment to compose herself. She looks back at Clarke who watches her carefully and feels herself breaking. “Pretending to just pretend that I love you... God, it’s been slowly killing me Clarke.” She stops for another second trying to keep the tears from falling but fails.
“Lexa, why--”Clarke tries to cut in but is interrupted again.
“Getting a glimpse of what it could be like, and kissing you the way you asked me to earlier...it’s everything I wanted and...fuck. Clarke I’m so sorry.” She can’t help the sob the escapes her mouth and covers her face with her hand. Her whole body shakes and she can feel her heart getting ready to tear out of her chest. It’s not long before she feels Clarke come up to her and move her hand away from her eyes. She tries to take in a steady breath to calm herself but can’t seem to catch it. When she feels Clarke’s fingers wipe the tears that stain her cheeks she can’t help the new ones that follow.
“Lexa,” Clarke smiles. “ Lexa, please breathe.” She whispers and Lexa tries.
“Clarke please don’t--”
“Shh,” Clarke smiles and gives Lexa a few more seconds to calm her breathing before leaning back into her close enough that their noses brush again.
“Clarke?” Lexa whimpers softly just before Clarke closes the small distance between their lips. Lexa’s lip trembles as Clarke kisses her. The blonde's hands move to wrap around her waist and pull her as close as possible causing Lexa to melt against her and sink into Clarke’s lip fully. Their kiss heats up quickly and it doesn’t take long for it to match the intensity they had reached earlier outside. She feels Clarke slowly turning them and guide them towards the bed. Once Lexa feels the bed behind her she sinks down slowly pulling Clarke with her. Clarke’s lips never leave hers as she straddles Lexa’s lap and deepens their kiss even further. Lexa feels like her body is on fire and when she feels Clarke’s hips grind down against her she lets out the softest moan. Her hands move towards Clarke’s hips and urge the blonde to keep moving before they slip under her shirt. When she hears the breathy moans escaping from the girl on top of her, she wraps her arms tighter around her, pulling her impossible closer. When Clarke pulls away from the kiss, Lexa once again chases after her before allowing the kiss to end. They stare breathless for a few seconds before Clarke moves her hands to cradle Lexa’s cheeks. Lexa closes her eyes as she feels Clarke’s thumbs wipe away that last of the tears that had settled there. She feels Clarke lean forward again leaving soft kisses on each cheek and then again on her lips. She feels Clarke slowly move along her jawline leaving warm kisses all the way across until she reaches her ear.
“Show me,” Clarke whispers in her ear and Lexa’s skin tingles. “Show me how you feel.” She says softly before moving back to Lexa’s lips and allowing Lexa to kiss her passionately. Lexa slips her hands under Clarke’s shirt and slowly glides them up her sides, taking the shirt with them. Clarke’s hands raise and her lips leave Lexa’s only long enough for her to throw the shirt to the side. Once their lips reconnect Lexa flips them around so that Clarke is lying underneath her. She moves her attention away from the other girl’s lips and down to her neck. She can feel Clarke’s pulse quicken under her mouth before she moves across the girl’s chest to the other side of her neck. After another moment of taking in Clarke’s skin she moves back and kisses her sweetly.
“Clarke are you sure?” She asks not wanting to push Clarke into something that she doesn’t want or isn’t ready for. Clarke’s hands run through Lexa’s hair before grabbing her face to make sure Lexa was looking right into her eyes.
“Lexa, I promise. I’m sure, just please...” She begs and Lexa’s body feels as if it could combust if she doesn’t keep kissing Clarke. If she doesn’t keep touching Clarke. She nods quickly before Clarke pulls her back down to reconnect their lips. Lexa puts everything she can into that kiss and everyone that follows it. She puts everything she can into every touch to make sure Clarke could feel everything that she made Lexa feel.
~*~
The next morning Lexa wakes up to a cool breeze against her bare back. She shivers and turns around in search of the warm body that she spent the previous night with but Clarke was nowhere to be found. Her brows furrow in confusion and she tries to listen to hear if Clarke is in the bathroom but she hears nothing. She sits up and reaches for the shirt that was thrown to the side at some point last night. She smiles at the memory before quickly throwing it back on followed by her shorts. Her head turns towards the doorway when she hears a loud giggle and she can’t help but follow the sweet sound.
She frowns when she see’s Abby sitting in the living room with Jake in her lap. Clarke nowhere to in sight. When Abby turns around fat the sound of her approach Lexa forces a smile because on the inside she slowly starts to panic.
“Where’s Clarke?” Lexa asks glancing into the kitchen but knowing deep down that Clarke was not home. Clarke had left.
“She had to go into work early I guess, she didn’t really explain.” Abby answers bouncing the giggly boy on her lap.
“Oh, she isn’t on a weekend rotation this month...I didn’t know she was going in.” Lexa says her throat closing in on her. “Are you okay with him? I’m supposed to meet my sister in a little bit for coffee but if you need…”
“No no, Clarke mentioned you had plans. We are good aren’t we Jakey.” She laughs tickling the little boys belly, completely unaware of the inner turmoil Lexa was going through at the moment.
“Okay,” Lexa starts rubbing the back of her neck. “Okay… um I’m going to go shower.” Abby nods turning her attention fully back to the little boy in her lap and Lexa turns and runs back up the stairs. “Fuck…” She mumbles to herself. “Oh my god. What did I do.” She whispers to herself, convinced that Clarke had thought that sleeping with her last night was a mistake. She checks her phone to see if Clarke left any message but there is nothing. She throws her phone onto the bed and goes to get in the shower. She takes a few steadying breaths. Maybe she was overthinking this. Maybe Clarke got called into the hospital. “She would have told me, texted me.” She whispered to no one, her thoughts accidentally escaping her head.
Once she is showered, dressed, and ready to meet her sister, she let’s Abby know that she is heading out and then rushes out to her car. Her sister is the only person who has known how she felt about her best friend and if anyone could console her it would be Anya. It didn’t take long to reach the park that she occasionally met her sister in. They always met at the same small coffee truck located next to a bunch of picnic tables and then usually ended up walking the park, coffees in hand while catching up on each other's lives. Lexa parked her car and hurried towards that coffee truck, her mind still racing over the thought of Clarke thinking last night was a mistake and what she was going to do about it. She couldn’t lose Clarke.
When she reached the picnic tables she stopped and froze in her spot. She spotted Anya sitting in the same spot she always finds her sitting, but there across from her, in the spot that she usually occupied was the last person she had expected to see but the one person she couldn’t get out of her mind. Sitting across from Anya was Clarke, her blonde hair tied up in a messy loose bun, and wearing Lexa’s favorite green hoodie. Anya spots Lexa and shakes her head before nodding towards her sister, causing Clarke to turn around. As soon as she did Lexa could see the smile that took over her face and couldn’t help but let the same thing happen to her. She started to move forward but stopped again when Clarke stands up and practically skips over to her.
“Hi,” Clarke smiles wrapping herself around Lexa hugging her tightly. It takes Lexa a second or two but she wraps her arms around Clarke too. When Clarke pulls out of their embrace she doesn’t go far at all but instead cups Lexa’s cheeks in the palms of her hands and kisses her right there in the middle of the park. When she breaks away again she frowns. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you woke up this morning, work called me and--”
“I thought you changed your mind, that you regretted last night.” Lexa admits cutting the other girl off and pulling her body closer, dropping her forehead down to meet Clarke’s.
“I’m so sorry Lexa, I know I should have woke you up. You just looked so peaceful and I didn’t think I would be there that long.” Hands still over Lexa’s cheeks she carefully lifts her head so that she can meet her eyes. “I promise you that I don’t regret anything.” She smiles before taking her bottom lip between her teeth. A habit Lexa has noticed more and more of.
“You promise” Lexa smiles and Clarke nods.
“I promise Lex.”
“Can I kiss you again?” Lexa asks her eyes darting back and forth between Clarke’s eyes and her lips.
“You don’t have to ask me Lexa. You can kiss me whenever you--” Before she could even finish Lexa moved closer and kissed the beautiful girl in front of her. She smiles when she feels Clarke’s lips move into their own grin.
“Still sitting over here.” Anya calls out and the two girls break apart, both all smiles.
“I knew you’d be here,” Clarke explains. “It’s so close to the hospital so I thought I’d surprise you. I can leave though. I don’t want to crash your sister date.”
“No stay,” Lexa smiles finally releasing Clarke and instead grabbing her hand and linking their fingers. They walk back over to Anya and sit across from her. Clarke pushes over the coffee that she’d got for Lexa and before Lexa could thank her, Anya speaks up again.
“Okay, so tell me...how’d this happen?” She asks pointing between the two causing them both to blush slightly. “I know Lex has been pining over you for God knows how long... so what finally gave her the balls to speak up and do something about it?” Anya bluntly asks before taking a sip from her own coffee. Lexa rolls her eyes letting out a low groan in embarrassment as Clarke chuckles.
“It’s a bit of story.” Lexa tries but Anya wants more.
“I don’t have anywhere else to be.” She shrugs.
“It’s kinds of my mom’s doing.” Clarke explains and Anya waves her hand to get her to continue. And so Clarke starts from the beginning explaining the way her mom called her worried about her being alone. Lexa smiles and listens as Clarke tells her sister all about their scheme and how the longer it went on the more she didn’t want it to end. Lexa’s ears burn as Clarke explains the past few weeks, leaving out most of the night before and a few other details here or there. She smiles hearing Clarke’s side of things for the first time and blushes when she talks about kissing her. She knows they still have a lot to talk through and she isn’t exactly sure what’s going to happen but she knows that it is all headed in the right direction. She smiles to herself thinking that these past few weeks have definitely not been as easy as they had thought that first night, but they have brought her to this moment right here, and that make everything more than worth it.
|
10038320
|
Amnesty
|
{
"Archive Warning": null,
"Category": "M/M",
"Characters": "Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Mature",
"author": "by Typied [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "7/7",
"completed": "2006-10-27",
"published": "2006-05-20T00:00:00",
"words": "17,219",
"Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, BDSM, Drug Use, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Voyeurism, Alternate Universe, Angst, Tragedy, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance",
"Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": "Rape/Non-Con, Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Beta: For this series, only myself.Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JK.Author's Note: This all started with me writing this short little ~500 word ficlet. It was meant to be a one-shot, but my muse, apparently, didn't know this. :) So, I've got a new series on my hands that's going to be a bit ... different. Each subsequent part will be out of chronological order, some taking place before this one and some taking place after. A snapshot here, a snapshot there. By the end, however, you should have the complete story. :)Enjoy!-----------------------------------------------------------------------He drops to his knees and then sits on his heels, unable to hold himself up with the pride and dignity he once had.He is broken, defeated, but above all else, tired.He is tired of being a puppet, of throwing his life away, of bowing to the whims and creeds of others. His shoulders droop in exhaustion and his head drops to his chest, as if the strings that had been holding it aloft were suddenly cut.It has taken days upon days to finally succeed in destroying what he once was.Suddenly, a hand is in his hair and is painfully yanking on it, pulling it so far back that it is a wonder his head is still attached, a wonder that silent tears are his only response, leaking out from behind closed lids. Another day, another earlier day, he might have cried out in pain, struggled futilely against the nails scratching deep into his scalp and dragging his head back. Now, he does nothing—just cries mutely and relaxes as much as he is able with his head in this position, with his neck kinked so awkwardly, with his breath so harsh and panting out of him, creating a throbbing sort of ache in his throat."Look at me."He doesn't want to and the voice knows this, knows what has finally happened and wants to see it, wants to wallow in the sadistic pleasure of its handiwork. He keeps his eyes closed, feeling more tears gather and burn and scour them. He could say that his reason for not obeying the voice is a fogging of his mind from pain or a miniscule amount of pride, thought gone. This is not true, however, and the awareness is just as cruel as the hand forcing him to its bidding, the voice forcing him to give his last reserves of whatever it was that kept him from breaking for so long. The eyes are the windows to a person's soul, it is said, and if he opens his eyes and bares his soul, the last remnants of it will be taken and dangled temptingly in front of his face before being obliterated."Look at me."The voice speaks again, irritated with its lack of response. He is almost surprised that he hasn't been punished for his insolence yet, but perhaps the voice knows that this isn't a direct disobeying of its order—it is simply a lack of will to do more than dangle here and take in the pain that is his companion, that lets him know he is still alive."Please …"Startled by the softly uttered word, his eyelids flutter open of their own volition. Just as soon as they do, he knows he has well and truly lost, for the tenderness in that one word was false and yet he yearned for that insincerity, yearned for the memories of better days it brought.Triumphant eyes meet his own and he lets out a wailing sob that shakes the very foundations of his reality, that encompasses all the pain he has been through and will continue to go through.For those remnants, those shards, of a once-glorious soul have been left intact to remind him of all he has lost.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: An act of clemency by an authority (as a government) by which pardon is granted.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JK.Author's Note: Chronologically takes place before the last chapter.--------------------------------------------------------------------------He sneers at the proffered quill, contempt mangling his thin lips. "It's amazing what a few years can do for your bad habits, Potter, although I can't say that I'm not pleased you don't chew on your quills anymore. Watching you in History of Magic was always nauseatingly vile."He gets a shrug in response—a rather lacklustre reaction when he'd truly wanted an angry retort, a flash of hatred in emerald eyes. "If you want to write to your mother, this is what you get."Potter has been a blank, emotionless slate since the moment he captured him, Apparated him to this location, and hauled him into this anteroom. His memories of Potter at Hogwarts are no longer viable; they show him being brash and passionate, ready to rush headlong into anything no matter the consequences. This is a different Potter—a muted, calculating, war-hardened one. To distract himself from this troubling realization, he returns his focus to the quill being held out. It is long, sleek and black, with closely cropped feathers and a particularly pointy tip.He snorts. Loudly. "Ever the generous one, Potter." He takes a step forward, a deliberate tactic by Potter to reinforce the fact that he's in control. His pale fingers, bony in his emaciated state, pluck the quill from its graceful rest on Potter's palm. It feels unusually light and delicate between his thumb and index finger. "Does this even have ink in it or did you forget that minor detail?" He smirks.One of Potter's hands indolently gestures at the desk he stands next to. The piece of parchment laying on top is framed beautifully by the flaming colour of the mahogany wood. He didn't know Potter had such good taste in furniture or a gift for staging to make things look presentable. "Just write your note, Malfoy. I don't have all day."He sneers again and stalks over to the desk, pulling the parchment around to the side of it. "Oh no, mustn't keep Saint Potter waiting. Lord only knows the world would probably cease to spin." He bends down over the edge of the desk and puts quill tip to parchment. Glancing over his shoulder at Potter, who is busy staring at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room, he huffs and hunches his shoulders, ensuring that the words he would be writing would only be seen by him.A short second later, he yelps, and the quill drops out of his throbbing and bloodied hand. "What the fuck is this, Potter?" he snarls, whirling around with the wounded hand cradled to his chest.The other man frowns, concern flickering across his face. "What do you mean?"He thinks it's about damn time some emotion was seen on Potter's face and wonders if maybe the situation isn't as bad as his gut is telling him. Perhaps he can weasel his way out of here yet. "Look at my hand!" He holds it out imperiously, assuming Potter will rush over to heal it.But Potter doesn't move—just stands and stares at him with confusion and distaste warring on his face. "What the hell are you talking about? You're not expecting me to kiss it, are you?"He blinks, nose wrinkling. Kiss it? He doesn't want Potter's nasty mouth on his hand. He'd probably contract a disease through the cut. "Why would I want you to do that? Jesus, all I want is for you to heal the cut since you took my wand."Potter's frown blossoms into a scowl and the corners of his mouth tighten. "Listen, Malfoy, I don't know what you're playing at, but there's nothing wrong with your hand. Just finish your damn letter, so I can take you in.""I—nothi—" he splutters, eyes wide. "Are you blind, Potter? My hand has been—" His growing tirade comes to a sudden halt. The cut had vanished, a faint red line the only evidence it had been there. His eyes narrow, looking up from the back of his hand at Potter. "What did you do?" he asks accusingly.Potter rolls his eyes, appearing exasperated. "I didn't do anything. I don't even know what you're talking about—""No, you did something," he says, swallowing a sudden bout of desperation and hoping it wouldn't show in his words. "I—I know you did. It wasn't just my imagination. I know it." Could it be that his mind hadn't recuperated as much as he'd thought? Being caught by Potter could be further proof of that … After escaping from his imprisonment, he'd avoided Potter to the best of his ability, never staying in one place for more than three days before moving on. How had he been found? "D—Don't—" He pauses, draws in a deep, calming breath, and starts again. "I'm not a fool, Potter. Don't lie to me."Potter's face abruptly closes down. His eyes become shuttered and dark, the tense lines bracketing his mouth vanishing, his brow smoothing and taking the exasperation, the confusion, the distaste with it. Once more he is left with an empty shell of the Potter he knew. "Lying is not a habit I indulge in. Would you like to continue writing your note?" Potter glances at the grandfather clock. "You have approximately five minutes to do so, before I am required to Apparate you to the Ministry." There is no inflection in the other man's voice; not of anger or confusion, not even of boredom. It is simply the even, rolling timbre of his voice.He gives a short nod and turns back to the desk. The quill points to the elegantly sloping, blood-red line that had been the start of his D. He tries not to shudder in revulsion at the sinister picture, certain that he is giving it connotations it doesn't deserve. Warily glancing over his shoulder, he meets Potter's eyes. He imagines that if Potter wasn't so intent on maintaining a cool outer mask or if Potter hadn't changed so much, he would be glaring at him, challenging him to pick up the quill again. Sometimes the things one imagines is better than the reality, and so his emaciated fingers find themselves around the thin black shaft, pressing the tip into the parchment to continue his letter. The pain is severe, blistering along the back of his hand, along the flayed edges of his skin. A grimace, a wince, a snarl—all fight to escape, but he is a Malfoy. In blood and ink, every word has its price. He keeps the message short and to the point.
Dear M.,
I have found a place where I may permanently rest from my travelling. I do not know when next I shall write, but rest assured, it shall be as soon as I can manage.
Your son,
D.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: An act of clemency by an authority (as a government) by which pardon is granted.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JK.Author's Note: Takes place after Blood and Ink, but before Please.--------------------------------------------------------------------------He does not know what day, week, or month it is. Does not know if it is morning or night, afternoon or evening. He has lost track of how long he has been here and that is a good thing in his mind. If he knew how much time he has spent in this Darkness, this Cavern of Solitude, he would lose hope: of being rescued in the most unrealistic of his ideas, and, in the least of them, of being in the Light for any length of time. Losing hope is bad and that he knows. He holds on to the flickering flame with a strength he did not know he had.He used to be obsessed with the passage of time.In the beginning—when he did not understand that some things were best forgotten; when he was desperate to hold on to life outside of his Cavern, desperate to keep the little Rectangle of Light because it reminded him that there was more than this Darkness. The Light blazed across his face and made him throw an arm up to block it, his eyes slamming shut, a low moan rolling out. He was thankful for it and counted the minutes, the seconds, that made each one up. As time progressed, as he realised just how pointless it was, he changed his focus to counting the time between the meals Potter gave him. He would wake up and crawl blindly in the Darkness, in the direction he thought he could recall the little Rectangle of Light coming from.It had been confusing.In the beginning—when forwards and backwards, left and right, all melded into one another and he crawled around in his little Cavern of Solitude for what seemed like days, searching, searching thoughtlessly, instinctively, for the bowl that held his meal. He had been too cocky, not realising how hard it would be to get to the front of his Cavern from the back where he sulked. A sense of direction was something he lacked, apparently. He had known he was going in circles, of course, but he could not stop because to stop would mean he had given up, forfeited to Potter, and even though they were not at Hogwarts anymore, they were still in competition. This time for his life, he imagined. Imagined correctly, he imagined. Imagined correctly.Sometimes Potter would come to take his meal away before he had found it. The Rectangle of Light would be behind him, to the right, left, or, even more maddening, a few paces in front of him. In those instances, he would lunge for the bowl, trying to beat Potter. He never could. Desperation and hunger are not faster than an Accio bowl—quick, ruthless, unforgiving. As soon as the bowl flew into the Rectangle of Light, the Darkness would be back—quick, ruthless, unforgiving.He developed a formula, a routine, to keep him from being lost. Lost in so many ways and he followed it religiously, obsessively, because he hated being lost. Even if a little voice in the Darkness told him that he was lying to himself. He developed it slowly, over time, but he did not like to think about how long it had taken him. He was Draco Malfoy, Voldemort's right-hand man, Healer extraordinaire for the Death Eaters; he had a quick mind, a quicker tongue, and a penchant for getting out of trouble with judicious use of them and his magic. Not that they had helped him Then or now—in this Darkness that caressed and blanketed and whispered, whispered, whispered. He had put his formula, his routine, into action at his first opportunity, when he had found his bowl again. Eat as fast as you can because you never hear Potter coming, never know when he will appear; set the bowl down, three paces back and sit. Sit and wait. Wait and sit. A simple plan for a simple problem that was not so simple in his mind, in the Darkness.Potter had been good at giving him meals.In the beginning—when the little Rectangle of Light fell on his face with callous aplomb, reminding him of where he was and why. Reminding him of the person who had carelessly tossed him in this cell, this Cavern of Solitude, after little fanfare or ceremony. Except that of scaring the fuck out of him in the corridor preceding, showing him that he had thrown his bid in with the wrong lot. He shudders and moans and rocks a little, trying to ignore the cruel whispers of the Darkness. The whispers that grew louder every passing day until they are not really whispers at all, but he still likes to think of them as such because he is not getting stir-crazy. He is not. Malfoys never lose their sanity, no matter what happens to them. But he is lost—the Darkness says so and he wonders if it is the same thing. He did not need the little Rectangle of Light to remind him of Potter, thus reminding him of the corridor incident, and thus that he had not followed the most powerful wizard because he knew there was only ever one and he had clearly chosen wrongly.Of course, he had reached such a conclusion long before he had reached this impasse, this waiting game. He had known the First Time—that mind-boggling, gob-smacking First Time. He moans again, louder, desperately, and a hand finds its way to his lower right arm, covering, gripping, shielding, a mark that has long since disappeared. It burns and flickers and laughs at him still, though; the jaw of the skull dropping, up and down, to and fro, the head of the snake bobbing, up and down, to and fro, tongue flickering, hissing, touching and tasting his fear, forcing him deeper into the Darkness. The equalizing Darkness, the comforting Darkness—his Mother and his Father, his companion and enemy, his light in the dark of its Darkness. In it, he is Draco. Just Draco. He is not the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, he is not a Death Eater, he is not a Healer. Just Draco—poor, starved, neglected Draco and that is what he has always wanted to be. Without the poor, starving, and neglected parts. A chuff of laughter escapes him, surprises him into silence and he whimpers, wishing he had not scared himself, wishing for that laughter to come back because he did not know he was still capable of it.Potter had been good at giving him meals.In the beginning—when that Rectangle of Light made an appearance thrice daily, upsetting his descent into the arms of the Darkness and drawing him back into reality. Back into the shake of his fingers, hands, arms; back into the pulsing, throbbing, aching pain in his back, his neck, his chest. Potter was always on time and always gave him five minutes to eat because he counted the minutes, the seconds, that made each one up. A week and another went by, although he could not be completely sure of that amount—time had gotten to be rather vague in his mind at that point. He began to notice that Potter was coming late—only by virtue that his stomach would often rumble and grumble for an extended length of time. Until the Darkness grew frustrated with him and demanded he shut it up. Of course, that was the beginning. The Darkness had been the barest of whispers, a mere exhalation against his mind, and had been easy to ignore. The meals came less frequently then. No longer thrice, but twice. Soon only once. Soon back up to thrice—a week.He likes to imagine he is back at Hogwarts now.In the beginning—when he was struggling to come to terms with the dramatic downward turn his life had taken—he tried to pigeonhole the reasoning, tried to pin it down, and dissect everything that had and could happen. Now, now, now, he is starting to get sick of his over-analysation. There is nothing it can do to get him out or to turn back the clock, and so now, now, now he likes to indulge in a few ruminations about what he would be doing at Hogwarts if he was back in his seventh year, back in his innocence and cowardice. Cowardice is still here. Yes, it is—lurking in the shadows of his mind, underlining the whispers of the Darkness, giving them an impossible strength that terrifies him. That makes him wonder what is going on in his mind, why he is having thoughts like this, because he does not remember having such thoughts before, but he is not sure, is never sure. And he whines and sobs and wraps his arms around himself tighter, tighter, until he has difficulty breathing and it seems as if his ribs are ripping through his fragile skin, imprinting themselves on his arms and a sobbing giggle escapes him. He will have another Mark—more marks—more marks—everywhere and nowhere and his giggles are becoming hysterical and so he cruelly cuts them off. He does not want to sound insane if Potter should come back. If he should come back!He likes to imagine he is back at Hogwarts now.In the beginning—when he first started creating these pictures, these diversions, these escapes, they were not detailed enough to satisfy him. He did not know that at the time. He thought they were sufficient because they did what he thought they were supposed to. He was naïve. They never could—He yelps and throws his arms up in front of his face. The Light, the Rectangle of Light, is back and the Darkness is hissing and spitting and sneering and he is surprised. It is too early for his next meal, he thinks, thinks, and the sound of metal upon metal makes him wince. Why is the door opening, why is there a shadow, a monstrous black hole that threatens to suck him in? He moans and whimpers as the Rectangle of Light grows and grows until it floods, overwhelms, and suffocates him. His eyes are burning and tearing despite the closed lids, despite the arms trying to block the Light that strikes at his mind like a knife, and he moans again, louder and more unrestrained, and he cannot handle it anymore, cannot stand it. The Darkness has stopped hissing, but now he can feel it withdraw from him, slowly rolling and slinking away from the Light, but he does not want it to leave him. Does not want to suffer alone in this agonizing, torturous Light and surely the Darkness would know how to escape from It? He scrabbles after the Darkness blindly, his eyes still closed and watering and the knife still stabbing, mutilating, destroy—Abruptly, he cannot move. Is frozen in time. The Darkness is leaving! Doing so without hesitation, a backward glance, and he struggles to follow it, but something is weighing him—his ankle, his ankle is his chain! He growls and snarls, thrashing his legs around, but it is a persistent, unbreakable weight, and so he whirls back around at it and—Swimming green eyes of the darkest colour, almost lost in the shadow of the Light, familiar in some unplaced, unspecified way, but they are there and they draw him in, deeper and deeper, the weight of his ankle forgotten. His chest is heaving, exerting, he realises, and he can feel his paper-thin skin easily sliding over his ribs, sweat cascading down in rivulets over the hills, the mountains of his bone.Swimming green eyes of the darkest colour, almost lost in the shadow of the Light, propel him into his own mind and the Darkness … the Darkness is back and he shudders with relief. He does not realise he is crying until a salty moisture stealthily invades his mouth. The brine is intoxicating and the hunger that is always a dull, cloying ache near his stomach rises like a tidal wave and sweeps him under. He finds himself licking frantically at his lips, the area around them, and he needs more, more, he is so hungry—why, why?—for something, always unattainable. He gathers what he can on his tongue and when he cannot taste the bitterness anymore, he becomes desperate—always desperate—because his hunger has not been satisfied—will never go away. He tries to move his hand up to swipe at the unreachable tracks on his cheeks, or perhaps the rivers running down his no longer heaving ribs, but something prevents this. He whimpers, whines, eyelids fluttering down and more tears welling up behind them, struggling against whatever holds him so still, and is it the chain that was clamped onto his ankle or—?The sudden expanse of ice across his back makes him gasp, his eyes flying open, and the swimming green eyes of the darkest colour are there, waiting. He arches, away from the coldness, trying to save himself because even now the Darkness is beginning to shrink, but he is met with something impenetrable, something warm and strong and secure. It has been a long time since he has felt any of those, barely remembers what they are like. He is surprised, caught in the middle of fire and ice, and he does not know which to go into, which to give himself up to. The ice has become familiar, always accompanies the Darkness, wraps itself around him until he becomes numb to anything, everything, except the Darkness and his existence in the present. The fire is unfamiliar, new and frightening, and it has come with the Light, once craved but now threatening, burning away the Darkness, burning away the ice, and promising continued strength and security. The Darkness never offered that—the future is uncontrollable, unknown—but yes, yes, the fire and the heat and the swimming green eyes of the darkest colour do, they assure him that it will go on forever, for as long as he lives, and he remembers his hope.His hope that he had forgotten about—when had he last seen it, held on to it?—and thought was lost, but he is surprised once more because the heated wall is moving in front of him, pushing itself closer and closer until he is forced against the coldness he has been trying to avoid. The ice is dull in his mind however, incomparable to the flickering, towering fire in front of him, overwhelming, drowning, and suffocating him in the most delicious of ways. The ice, the Darkness, is slipping away and he thinks he would mourn their loss, their familiarity and companionship—his Mother and Father, his light in the dark of its Darkness—if he was not lost in the fire. Lost like the Darkness had said he was, but if this was what being lost meant, he would gladly forget himself and bask in this wildfire. This wildfire that has burned away the last trappings of ice and there, there, is his hope, his beacon of light, delicately wavering in the wind and whirl of his mind and oh gods, oh gods—He crumples into himself, his sobs, his cries, louder and more powerful than they have ever been—even In The Beginning—and they shake his body violently but he is glad because that means he has survived, is alive, and now that the fire illuminates this Darkness, he can see how close he came to dropping over the abyss, walking over the side without realising it, never realising it because he could not see in the darkness—was blind and naïve and alone.He is not alone anymore. He is not blind or naïve. He is alive and he has his heat, his towering inferno with swimming green eyes of the darkest colour that promise to never let him go, never, never.He feels the hair around his temple stir, tremble in the warm wind of his wildfire, and then the gentlest caress of silken satin, warm and pulsating, against his forehead. A blanket of security, of heat and inferno and passion, slips down the shivering length of his back, bumping and gliding over the ridges of his bone, over the bony protrudent knobs of his spine. He shakes and he quakes and he whines and whimpers and sobs and another blanket covers the underside of his jaw and morphs into a hand, alive and flowing, and tilting his bowed head up to the heavens.Swimming green eyes of the darkest colour are his salvation, his sanity, his hope.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to JK.Beta: None.Author's Note: Someone has expressed confusion to me about the timeline of this story, so I'll try to explain myself better for others who may be confused as well.Basically, there is a timeline/plotline of events, but I'm taking them out of their chronological order. So, for instance, x event happens before y event, which occurs before z event. However, I may post y event, then x event, then z event. Does that help make things clearer?This takes place before Blood and Ink.Warnings: BDSM, non-con, adult language and violence.--------------------------------------------------------------------------A hand claps over his mouth and the cool tip of a wand jabs into his jugular. "Don't. Move."He freezes, eyes widening and breath shuddering out, his hands clenching around the tin. Oh, shit. Potter had finally fucking caught up to him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He knew better than to light a fucking fire, but he'd been (still is) so fucking cold and exhausted and depleted; all he'd fucking wanted was to reheat the remains of a fucking shepherd's pie he'd nicked from a fucking Muggle's house. Weeks of running had made him careless and now it was all—fucking—over. Fuck."Good," Potter says firmly.Clothing rustles, his curved back is briefly brushed against, and a fan of heat filters through the ragged tangles of his hair. Potter is squatting close behind him—indecently so, with his arms resting on his shoulders, instantly creating an intimacy between them. Something they shouldn't have, whether it is false, imagined, or unintended. As much as it pains him, he keeps his burgeoning contemptuous comment in check, unsure where he and Potter stand and unwilling to prematurely find out with the business end of a wand at his throat."I'm glad you're cooperating, Malfoy, because I'd hate to have to hurt you." Potter's breath blazes across his ear and cheek before fading away. Previous reticence abandoned, he snorts loudly and smirks, although it is hindered by Potter's grubby hand across his mouth. Potter just had to ruin the suspenseful atmosphere by spouting a horribly clichéd phrase. His shock rapidly disappearing beneath the belated, full realisation of just who this is, he blithely swats the wand away and ducks out from Potter's hand. "Is that the best you can do, Potter?" He chuckles at Potter's huff and resumes eating, fingers digging into the cold mess of lamb and mashed potato's. "You've been chasing me for weeks," he continues, speaking around his fingers, knowing Potter is getting further irritated by the obvious lack of respect or fear. "I'd rather hoped for something less anticlimactic and Gryf—""Incarcerous."His shepherd's pie clatters to the ground as his arms are yanked behind his back and tied at the wrist with a length of thick rope, his ankles snapping together into the same predicament. The force of the attack is enough for him to lose his balance, and he falls backwards over the log and into Potter's lap. Stomach fluttering anxiously, memories and instincts rising, he finds himself mute within the chaos, his tongue heavy and dry. He looks up into tumultuous emerald eyes, entranced and surprised by the bleak anger roiling in their depths."I wasn't kidding, Draco," Potter says quietly.The butterflies in his gut swirl frantically higher, the trembling of their wings echoed in his muscles, beating against his throat and twisting it tight. Something is wrong—P-Potter? What are you doing here?—didn't call him by his surname—is staring down at him gravely, sombrely—Y-you c-can't be, no—and a shadow falls across his face. He flinches, closes his eyes, but he only feels the delicate touch of what must be calloused fingertips along his cheek. But they lied before and so he whimpers, a war of unbidden pleasure and memory-tainted fear swallowing him, crushing him. He tries to avoid the caress, but the movement is restricted by his position and restrained arms, making it impossible to do more than futilely rock his head back and forth. He wants to cry out, wants to fight against the images assaulting his mind, whispering, taunting, telling him he hadn't escaped from His torturous grasp. This is just another figment of his imagination preying on his weakened mind. Instead, he bites his lip to keep the pleading words in. He hadn't broken down for Him and he doesn't plan on it now. He can survive because he has escaped from Him and this Harry isn't as bad as He usually is. This is the real Harry Potter (not Him) and he will be safe."Hush, it's okay," Harry soothingly murmurs. A finger traces down to his chin, swirling around its jutting mound and then up to a cheekbone. He shudders and whimpers again, squeezing his eyes closed tighter. He knows this isn't Him, knows he is in trustworthy hands, but he can't help thinking they are still one in the same, because what the hell does he know? He doesn't know anything. Everything is speculation in his mind, everything is touches and caresses that are lies within themselves, masking their true source, and now he can't tell the difference. The voices aren't helping. They insist this gentleness is insincere and temporary because it has happened before, this way, and it is only a matter of time. He is ridiculed for his desire to lean into Harry's touch, soak up its warmth and attention, to finally accept what he's been craving, needing, for so long: You can't trust him. You don't know who he is, can't be certain. He will take from you what he wants; use and abuse you to his satisfaction, and leave you to the pain even you cannot heal, for it is deep within your heart and soul. The voices then coil, twine, contort in on themselves and mock him for his fearful shame: This is what you pined for, cried out for in your mind. You wished to be able to touch the truth just once before you died. Now he is here, right where you want him—and yet you hold back. You know he is not Him. Take advantage of it."I heard some interesting stories from your … friends," Harry whispers silkily.He stiffens, eyes flying open. The bleak anger in Harry's gaze has grown into a vindictive fury, glittering with some other emotion he doesn't bother identifying because the voices are right. This isn't Potter; it is Him, and oh god, he must still be in the dungeons surrounded by gleeful brethren, everything is a lie, he isn't free, captured—betrayed—Naughty little boy, aren't you, Draco? "No, please," he whines, closing his eyes and turning his head to lie against Potter's thigh. "I didn't …""Oh, but you did. Perverted little git, aren't you, Draco?" Potter says, his tone sibilant and scornful.The eerily similar wording sends another jolt of fear through his body. No, no, this isn't how it's supposed to be, he thinks miserably, wishing he could curl up into himself until he ceased to exist. Where is Harry? The knight in shining armour he'd prayed for during the most nightmarish of his experiences? While he hadn't expected roses and kittens, especially after what he'd done to … Hogwarts, he had assumed he'd be treated better. Isn't that Harry's sort of thing? To be more noble of mind and all that shit? This Harry is different: ice and arrogance, apathy and cruelty. The night becomes surreal then, for those are familiar to him in a way he wishes they weren't.
Him in disguise, the voices are right.
Another hand forces his head back up and the finger is suddenly circling his mouth, drawing closer with each spiralling turn. His heart strums faster as his breath catches, lips parting involuntarily. The predatory finger accepts the unconscious invitation and drags slowly, erotically over his lower lip before forcing its way past his teeth and into his mouth. His eyes pop open once more, fixing their incredulous and fearful gaze on Potter's face. Potter is smirking, a ruthless viciousness and depravity disfiguring his still boyish features. It sends his fear tripling and trilling into terror as the horror of his situation finally blindsides him. The appearance of those emotions only confirms his earlier thought that this is Him, not Potter. Months under the … care … of Him has allowed him a stunning insight into what He is, but he doesn't understand how because Potter (he was certain) had stormed the castle—"You seem to be suffering from a case of mistaken identity," Potter croons melodically; "I am Harry. I always have been—always will be … just with an addition, of sorts, that was most unexpected, but has proved most fortuitous."And with those forbiddingly cryptic words, he knows he should be putting more of an effort into escaping. His Slytherin self is nearly screaming itself hoarse with cries of danger and self-preservation. This is as far from where he wants to be as it gets, and yet even the simplest of plans to get away remain elusive. "You have nothing to say?" Potter questions idly, eyebrow raised. "You always used to run your mouth, whether someone cared or not."The finger strokes his tongue enticingly, arousing a feeling, a response, that had been diligently cultivated in previous months. A response he'd struggled to fight and subdue without success, to his burning shame. He protests half-heartedly, gurgling through the build-up of saliva in his mouth. He swallows automatically, cringing as he naturally presses the finger to the roof of his mouth and sucks on it, lips and teeth closing around the knuckle. He doesn't want it misconstrued as acceptance of what … Potter is doing to him.Suddenly, the world is spinning and his lungs are empty. He desperately lunges after the fleeting breath, head swimming, heart straining to beat against his ribs. Just as quickly, the world rights itself with an abrupt jerk, his abdomen slamming hard against something. The shock of impact makes him choke on what little breath had been creeping into his lungs, but soon his chest lurches laboriously and fills with the heavy weight of life. Confused, he briefly tries to heave himself up and quickly discovers that it's easier to simply rest his head on the … ground and let the blood rush to his head and pool, pulsing, throbbing, congealing. Dirt stirs and twirls into the air with his panting disturbance and rushes in to his open mouth, his nose, his eyes, coating them in a thin, scratchy layer of dryness. Eyes watering, he coughs harshly, hacking in an effort to clear his throat and prevent himself from choking on the suffocating grime. His nose burns and tickles, making him sneeze in interrupting bursts; his sinus cavities ache and pound their own complaint against the invasion of particles; and his head feels like it is about to explode, but maybe that isn't so bad. Through the fog of physical discomfort, he becomes aware of a hand holding his torso to the … log and another shoving his legs apart, then slithering beneath his hips to awkwardly rip at the fly of his trousers. Realising what is about to happen, but unable to muster the energy to try and prevent it, he simply lies there, bowed over the wood, dirt still twirling and twinkling in the firelight. His mind takes a pre-emptive, protective measure and begins to shut down, withdrawing to a tiny island in the shadows, away from the possibility of distress, detached and curtained from everything except his sanctuary. The island is familiar and comforting, cloaked in tranquil invisibility, a soothing song from his early years whispering on the wind. He has carefully constructed this spot over the past months, made it habitable and welcoming. He had plenty of time to do so. Sinking his feet into the warm, white sand, he thinks about how it is a shame the shepherd's pie has gone to waste and that, if he'd known, he wouldn't have taken his time relishing the explosion of taste on his bland tongue."Fuck, you're just asking for this, aren't you?"The words slink and hiss into his ear, but they are bobbing inconsequentially on the sea that surrounds his shielded island and they don't mean much to him. His body is lifted slightly from the log, his tattered trousers yanked down to his thighs to bare his naked arse, but he is fully clothed, sitting on warm, soft sand, so it doesn't mean much to him. White, like the pet kneazle he'd had as a kid. He'd named it Whitey because he'd thought such an obvious name was awfully clever of him. Now, that logic is slightly off to him, but he doesn't mind. He never minds much of anything on this island of his, he whimsically thinks, drawing happy faces and laughing faces and funny faces in the white, white sand."Fucking slut, Draco. Such a pretty little one though. Pretty, with your arse offering itself to me and your cock hard and dripping. I knew you wanted this—I heard what you did, what you screamed …"Unimportant, meaningless words join the others because he's still drawing faces into the—white, Whitey, white—sand of his island. One time he'd covered the entire island with faces and he'd had to draw over the other ones because he never erases the faces; it's just that when he has to go back to his island, they are gone and he can start anew. They are fun to draw.But suddenly a deep, scorching, stinging blaze is consuming him and he finds himself in the sea—no longer a gentle sea, but a raging, roaring, swelling one, tossing him over and under—"Oh, fuck, Draco. You're so tight—shit, what a—surprise. Your—oh yes, moan for me little slut, take my fucking fin—"—the sour brine is invading his every orifice and pore, eating him alive, joining the inferno inside and he arches, distorts; he screams, he keens, he cries out with the injustice and agony and humiliation of it all, lungs engulfed, eyes rolling back—But suddenly he is back on his island, sinking his feet into the—white, Whitey, white—sand. The curtain has returned to protect his island from the sea, doing its best to filter out the sounds of the pounding surf, the insistent jeering of meaningless and insignificant words, the howling wind that speaks of the torment his body is going through. The nursery song that had been a whisper is now a blanket, covering and doing its best to mask the turbulence surrounding him as a simple background harmony, weaving in and out. He smiles and happily hums along to the melody, ignoring the vague sensation of a heavy weight collapsing, tracing the happy faces and laughing faces and goofy faces in the—white, Whitey, white—sand of his beach.He never did mind much of anything on his little island sanctuary, he thinks as he becomes aware of the sea calming and words that didn't belong with the others floating through the curtain."Obliviate."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A Terret For You, My Precious
Part One
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JK.Rating: R.Warnings: Before I forget and before we get too far into this, here are all the warnings for this series. I'm too lazy to go through and take out all the ones I've already mentioned when posting this story, so you'll get everything. If you have a problem with one or two, I suggest you either skip out on this story entirely or skip over that section in whatever part it appears in. :)Angst, Language, Mind Control, Slave, Incest, M/m sex, BDSM (and all that encompasses), Body Modification (scarification), Breath/Blood Play, Cock-And-Ball Torture, D/s, Exhibitionism, Gang-Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Humiliation, Non/Dub-con, Rimming, Self-Harm, Spanking, Torture and Voyeurism.Author's Note: Takes place after Please. Part two will be out next week. Terret is a ring on an animal's collar, used for attaching a leash.---------------------------------------------------------------------He shivers and averts his eyes, staring at the slim curve of Harry's left shoulder. He's never able to match Harry's gaze for long. It's too intense, too shrewd and knowing. It makes him feel as if his soul is bared, ready to be picked apart and scavenged. Harry prefers he doesn't meet his gaze anyways, so he can feel more in control."You are to keep this collar on until I say it may come off, Draco." Harry's rumbling baritone interrupts his thoughts, accompanied by the slightest of caresses on his neck. Fleeting and gentle, it leaves him wanting more—wanting to please Harry as he knows that only he can.This new collar is just another way Harry will keep him under control, even though he has learnt his lessons well in that aspect. "Yes, of course, Harry." He cautiously reaches a hand up to touch the collar, uncertain of whether Harry will allow it. When no punishment is forthcoming, he runs a finger along the band. About the width of a dog's collar, it is simple leather, with no spikes, studs, or any adornments at all—save for a small metal loop on the back. Curious, he turns to face the bathroom mirror. The loop glitters innocently through the fine strands of his hair, and the simple black colouring of his collar is stark against the bruise-mottled pallor of his neck. As always, he is attracted to those vivid splashes, vivid splashes. He can't help pressing on them, drawing a hiss between clenched teeth and a dull flicker of pain to awake his senses."I'll get those covered up, of course," Harry says from behind. "Can't have everyone thinking I abuse you." A pause. An inhalation. "Although, I don't think anyone'd care, really."He licks his lips and glances at Harry in the mirror. Is Harry angry with him for bruising so easily? He doesn't mean to. He opens his mouth to say that he doesn't mind the bruises and, truly, he likes how they look on him, but Harry is already speaking again. Harry doesn't like to be interrupted, so he swallows his words and an unusual sigh of discontent."Breakfast will be ready soon. You're going to take extra care washing yourself this morning. We have an important day ahead of us and I want you to look your best. Be quick about it, though. I still have to dress you, and I will not be made late to breakfast."A warning glance and Harry is gone with a click of the bathroom door. He is dressed in his finest robe. The one that swishes and moulds perfectly around his body; the one that is made from the most exquisite materials and has the most stylish design. The one that reminds him of when he was a Malfoy. Of high-society galas and betrothals and money. Of cruelty and obsession and betrayal.The fact that he is dressed in this particular robe worries him in a way he hasn't worried in a long time. Like when Harry had first started pleasuring him and he'd been afraid without knowing why.He's never worn this one before. Harry usually prefers him to be naked so he can fulfil the urges he gets more easily. Months earlier, Harry had come home with this expensive robe and hung it in the back of their armoire. When he'd questioned Harry about it, Harry had simply smirked and said it would be needed eventually.Today is clearly eventually and this worries him in a way he hasn't worried in a long time. Two unusual events and he hasn't had breakfast yet.Change is never good. Change brings instability and uncertainty, physical and mental anguish. And this is why he thinks,
Today will be a bad day.
"You aren't eating, Draco."He blinks and looks up from his idle fork. Straight into swimming green eyes of the darkest colour. He averts his gaze, back down to his untouched plate and the suddenly unappetizing food on it. "No, Harry, I am, I promise. I was just thinking, Harry." To prove this, he cuts off a section of his fried eggs and brings it to his mouth. They taste rubbery and dusty, but he keeps eating them, one mouthful at a time.Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Harry raising an eyebrow and giving him a long look. "Really?" And he hears the disinterested interest in Harry's rumbling baritone. "What bothers that pretty little head of yours?"He blushes, swallows too quickly in his nervous reaction. A broken cough escapes him and he grabs his glass of orange juice, taking a desperate gulp that throbs as it slips down his throat, past the collar that constricts and then loosens. He always manages to embarrass himself when Harry says that. In the beginning, he'd vehemently protested it because he'd thought it derogatory, but Harry had been patient. Repeatedly, gently, explained to him that he didn't mean to be so insulting. Eventually he had believed him.But, now he's caught in a quandary of sorts. Will Harry be angry with him for wondering about his new collar or why he's wearing his most elegant robe? He has been taught that the only necessities in his life are food, sleep, and Harry. Independence and free thought are not rights—they are privileges. He finds this to be very much true, but so far today, he hasn't had the opportunity to earn those privileges. And yet, there have been instances in which he spoke his mind without permission or reprimand. An indulgent smile, a ruffling of his hair (which he always used to hate, in the beginning, but doesn't really mind now), and that was that. Sometimes, even, Harry had responded and they had discussed what troubled him."It's nothing," he mumbles, erring on the side of caution. Today will be a bad day, and he doesn't want to make a bad day worse.Harry smirks and chuckles. "Come, Draco." He indolently waves his fork in the air. "Everything you say is important to me."The words plummet to his gut with a whistle of wind and a hollow plunk. Ripples bloom and disperse, thrumming impatiently in a familiarly unfamiliar way. "No. Really, it's nothing, Harry," he says, gaze flicking to the side, arbitrarily to a painting hanging on the opposite wall."Draco."One word. Simple and blunt, and he knows he has crossed the line. The line is rather blurry nowadays, wavering like the invisibly visible currents of heat that radiate from the fire a dragon breathes. As elusive as this line is, this simple, blunt, demanding word trips it. Sends it quivering with tension, like the ripples rapidly gaining speed in his mind. They undulate wildly across the expansive lake of his mind, growing and swelling until they are foaming waves crashing against the shores of thought and emotion.Anger, anger, he realises, staring at the vivid splashes of the painting hanging on the opposite wall. The familiar unfamiliarity that is his anger. Dampened beneath his need to avoid punishment and then to—to blindly please Harry, he has almost forgotten what it feels like to grapple with such strong emotion. It swirls and burns higher—blistering along the back of his hand, along the flayed edges of his skin—enveloping him in its greedy clutches, hoping to drag him down into its vindictive lair.Insanity. It is insanity that waits for him down that long path of righteous fury. Of boiling rage for his situation, of crushing despondency because this is his lot in life. Harry has shown him the truth—just once, long months ago, he wished to touch the truth—and this is why he trembles and resists his surprising anger. He has no one besides Harry. Harry who is now a necessity in his life. The one he looks to for protection. For right and wrong and normalcy and sanity. The one who has given him a place in a life he'd thought he had lost.He doesn't want to lose his precious sanity, oh no. Harry has shown him the truth. He has been pieced back together with deft and calloused and gentle hands, this he knows. He should be—is—grateful.He watches the strength of the waves increase on the expansive lake of his mind, but he can't allow them to drag him under. He needs some control, and so he lets Harry's truth shine through the storm. He finds himself on his island surrounded by the sea, with the sun shining down and the lone palm tree waving in the gentle breeze. The breeze carries his soothing nursery song to him and he grins, humming along as he tilts his head and raises his arms up to the sun. He wiggles his toes, his feet, deeper into the warm—white, Whitey, white—sand, giggling as the silken grains tickle the soles. Their soles, his soul, their souls. He misses his island. He wants to stay and draw happy faces and laughing faces and goofy faces into the sand, but he can't. Harry doesn't like it when he goes to his island and Harry needs him now. Just a little reminder, a little control, and he is spiralling back into awareness.His fingers briefly clench around his fork before he sets it down with a delicate tink of metal and glazed stone. He can still feel the stinging salt, the waves crashing against the shores of thought and emotion, but he thinks he can ignore them now. Their presence has dulled in his mind until now, now, now, they are like the vaguest of feelings in your gut that you have forgotten something.His eyes skitter away from the painting hanging on the opposite wall, to Harry's implacable expression, and down to his plate. He has finished eating his eggs. All that remains is the greasy shadow where they once were and the yellow smears of their yolk. They had rested so innocently, he muses—just like he had those few short days ago. He sighs at his bacon and their limp, unappetizing appearance, and then, quite by accident, his eyes slide to the right.A small, red pill lies quietly on his white napkin.He takes that small, red pill every morning because Harry says it will prevent him from going mad. Harry always speaks the truth, so when Harry says that he has gone mad before, and that he is only the smallest of steps away from doing so again, he believes him."Draco?" he hears Harry ask.He blinks, glances up at Harry, but his attention is already being dragged back to the small, red pill lying quietly on his white napkin.The liquid inside of it gleams through the plastic encasement, through to early morning light that floods the room from behind him. Gleams quite sinisterly, he imagines. Imagines correctly, he imagines. Imagines correctly. And an errant thought suddenly wiggles and nibbles itself to the front with a startling ferocity.If he is sane and normal, like Harry has said, then why does he need to take the small, red pill, like Harry says? If he is sane and normal, he shouldn't have to take the small, red pill to prevent insanity because he is sane and normal. This possible realisation confuses him, makes him want to frown and frown, but Harry doesn't like it when he frowns. Harry says that frowning makes him look petulant and spoilt and, because of this—because he doesn't like to make Harry angry, he has learnt how to frown on the inside where Harry can't see. But that niggling thought …He glances up at Harry again, from the small, red pill, to a minimally curious face. His newest thought, spawned from the confusion of his first, is confirmed. He shivers and averts his eyes, staring at the small, red pill lying quietly on his white napkin instead. Waves crash in his mind, fling salt into his wounds, and he can never match Harry's gaze for long. It's too intense, too shrewd and knowing. And this is why, perhaps, that he is just now—for the first time ever—doubting his ability to frown on the inside, where Harry can't see."Draco! Pay attention," Harry loudly demands.His body twitches in surprise and his hands, nervously resting on the white tablecloth to either side of his place setting, take flight like birds startled from the brush. Whilst his left knocks into his glass of orange juice, sends the bright orange liquid surging over the table, his right runs along the side of the table, inadvertently snagging the white tablecloth as well. The quickly thinning puddle of his juice heaves to and fro, and the unlit, gaudy candelabra that dot the middle length of the table wobble dangerously before toppling over with multiple thunks.For a moment, it is still. Frighteningly so, after such a rush of movement. Almost as if the entire world has stopped on its axis, waiting, just waiting and anticipating whatever is to happen next.Then, the world is moving again, in time with Harry's yells and slashing arm movements as he jumps up from his seat and rounds the corner of the table. And with this frightening turn of events, with Harry advancing on him and red, vivid splashes searing his emerald eyes, all he can think of is avoiding the punishment he knows is coming. He accidentally knocks over his chair—thumpthumpthump—as he jumps up and quickly grabs his white napkin, mopping up the spilt orange juice with frantic, flighty movements, babbling his apology over and over and over and over. Hunched shoulders, an air of expectation, fear, arousal that shouldn't be felt.He shrieks as a firm hand lands on his shoulder, throws him back and over his chair, away from the table to the windows. Flying, flying, flying he is.Tink-a-link-link, tink-a-link-link in his ears and bitter, stinging waves cutting into his mind like Harry cuts into his body and his vision is a shower of crystallised fear, falling, falling, falling as he."Midgey, Midgey, Midgey, clean up this mess," he hears from a distance, a distance, an impenetrable distance away.He finds himself curled up on the floor, a crunching, painful floor that glitters seductively. Little prisms of light that dance and sing and call to him and, as he reaches out, takes one of the larger ones in hand and watches it dance and sing and call to him on his palm, he begins to wonder if he really is insane. Harry says he is sane and normal, but he remembers a time when his thoughts were not like this, when they didn't circle around and around and repeat and repeat. And then there is his island, his wonderful, beautiful, soothing island surrounded by the sea. He created it, built it up and around to protect him when he could no longer protect himself, but is it normal to have an island in your mind? Harry says he is sane and normal, but he doesn't remember having an island, an island surrounded by the sea, in his mind beforebeforebefore.As his grip on the little prism of light begins to slip, becomes wet and sticky and red like the vivid splashes in Harry's swimming green eyes when he is angry, he feels the bitter, stinging waves swelling up on the expansive lake of his mind and knows that if he doesn't sit up, they will drag him under. He can't be dragged under though, because Harry needs him—even though he did something bad, ruined breakfast for Harry, who thinks breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and he feels horrible and wretched—so he looks at his crystallised fear in his red, pale hand and wonders where to put it. Where do you put your fear when you know you must have the courage to continue on despite the odds? And his little island wavers into view like the invisibly visible currents of heat from a dragon's fire. He smiles and laughs, edgy, rough, and knows where he must put his crystallised fear.Inside, inside. You put your fear inside where no one can see it and then you travel to your island, built up and around you to protect you when you can't protect yourself.He slowly sits up, places his hands flat against the crunching, painful floor, and heaves himself up. He wobbles dangerously, like the candelabra he knocked over, before he rights himself, unlike the candelabra he knocked over. He smiles at his achievement and then searches for his crystallised fear. It is glittering all round and round him, but he is looking for one in particular and then he finds it in his hand, glittering, gleaming a sinister red like the small, red pill resting quietly on his white napkin. The shard of crystallised fear looks strange, he thinks and frowns, forgetting that Harry doesn't like it when he frowns because it makes him look petulant and spoilt. The shard of crystallised fear isn't laying flat against his palm, but is sticking out at an angle, and other, smaller, shards of crystallised fear surround it. Like his island surrounded by the sea! Surprised by this connection, he giggles and hums. He has a physical manifestation of his island now, that he can look at whenever he—"Draco? Draco, what the—"And a shadow is cast over him before it shrinks and disappears into the crouching form of Harry, Harry, his necessity. He giggles again and looks up at Harry, from his crystallised island by the sea. He carefully, proudly, waves it in front of Harry. "Look! Look, I have my island in my hand! You can see it now, can't you?"But, right before his eyes, he sees his island surrounded by the sea disappear. Shard by shard, quickly and efficiently, they zip out of his hand. His eyes widen, dismay bubbling up like the foam of the waves crashing against his mind, like the sticky redness in his palm that overtakes his pale hand. "No, no, wait—where is it going? I saw it, did—I saw it. I saw it, I did, I swear!" he says firmly, desperately, and he hugs himself, anchors himself and begins to rock back and forth. He looks up at Harry, who is looking down at him with an emotion similar to pity, but he doesn't need Harry's pity. "I saw it, Harry," he says fiercely, scowling up at him. "I know you did, too! I know it, because I am not mad. I am not, I am not, I am not, I am not."Hands cover his own and peel them away from his arms, draws his attention back down to the sticky redness that is overtaking his own. He watches the darker hands, the tanned and calloused hands, intermingle with his and the sticky redness oozes out from between them.
Drip, plip, plop. Drip, plip, plop.
Suddenly, the sticky, dripping redness is gone, as if it had never been there. He blinks and blinks and almost frowns, but remembers this time that Harry doesn't like it when he frowns and so he doesn't. Instead, he looks back up at Harry and stares at him for a few moments, before saying, "I'm insane, aren't I?" He blinks, looks back down at their intermingled hands, and says again, "I'm insane, aren't I? Just like the fucking Longbottoms." And, like the waves that burn and sting and swell, this realisation makes him cry out and collapse, sobbing his anguish into the protective inferno that is Harry, that is his necessity."No, shh," Harry croons to him, rubs his back, pets his hair and rocks him back and forth. "No, of course not, my precious. The last few days have been hard on you, is all."He shakes his head and nuzzles into Harry's comforting embrace. "No, no," he cries, hands clinging, gripping Harry's robe, "I am, I am, I am, I am. I can tell. It's the way you—you look at me and treat me and—and … Why? Why do I have to be insane, Harry? Why can't I be normal?"Harry squeezes him closer and returns his nuzzle to the top of his head, his sigh gusty and warm and fetid along his left cheek. "You are not insane, Draco," he says firmly, stroking and petting his back. "Don't you think I would have committed you to St Mungo's if you were?"He freezes, a million little thoughts rushing and crashing through his mind, like the waves flinging salt into his wounds. "Really?" he whispers, voice wet and cracking slightly as he contemplates this fact that he is not at St Mungo's.Sometimes he wonders if Harry tells him the truth, sometimes he—he knows things, can feel them in his gut, in his mind beneath the crashing waves and the expansive lake and his island surrounded by the sea. Sometimes the faintest of breezes filters through the fog in his mind and he knows, knows things like manipulation and wrongness and insanity. Always, always though, that faintest of breezes disappears. Drifting away as if it had never been there at all, and he is left with the fog and the crashing waves and the expansive lake. His island surrounded by the sea is always left as well, but he isn't allowed to go there very often because Harry knows when he goes there, knows as he."Yes, really," he hears Harry's soft reply, and he is cradled still closer to him, closer to the inferno that he has always welcomed. "You are not insane, in the least, my precious. You are perfect." And a kiss is dropped onto his head, light and errant and meaningful. "Now, let's get a warm cloth for your face and we can go to the Ministry."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A Terret For You, My Precious
Part Two
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JK.Word Count: ~5,174.Author's Note: Holy cow, this turned out longer than I expected. *blinks* Also, just want to remind everyone that this series is from Draco's POV--a very lost, confused, and mentally unstable Draco, so the events that occur to him may not take place in 'real time' (i.e. time may move faster or slower than he thinks it does) and they may not be completely accurate, based on his perceptions.---------------------------------------------------------------He doesn't like The Outside at all.He knew this even before they had finished their Side-Along-Apparition, before they had landed in this empty, seedy street with its cracked pavement and boarded windows and shredded, flopping posters that peel away from graffiti-covered walls.Harry needs to grab his arm to keep him from falling over, wobbly like the candelabra at breakfast because he hasn't travelled this way in a long time. He thinks that if the candelabra travelled this way, they would be wobbly too, though. He hasn't needed to Apparate in so long—as a passenger or otherwise. He hasn't needed to, and he'd rather not have needed to now, but Harry told him earlier that he's lost any chance of earning privileges today, so he doesn't voice his discontent. He ruined breakfast for Harry—who thinks that breakfast is the most important meal of the day—and he understands."Okay, precious?" Harry asks, a smirk curling around his mouth like his tanned and calloused hand is curling around his wobbly arm.He smiles shyly and nods. "Yes, Harry. Thank you, Harry," he says quietly.He moves to crowd closer to Harry, for reassurance in The Outside, but Harry is just as quickly moving away. Setting off down the empty, seedy street without a backward glance, with a swift and confident stride that makes his heart flutter as much as it makes him squeak and stumble after Harry because his leash is being pulled tight around his throat. Jinglejangle is the chain, and he is diligently trotting after Harry before Harry can get angry with him for being too slow.He looks at the shabby, scrunched and tilted buildings that line this empty, seedy street. They are leering at him, this he knows, and his gut twists, twists tight like the warm cloth Harry had used this morning to wipe his face with after he'd cried. Their mouths of doors gape, baring their teeth of boards at him, telling him they would as soon swallow him in and never let him back out.He gulps nervously and glances away, up to the bright morning sky. He has missed the paint splash, vivid splash, of colours across the sky and he is sad. There was a time, beforebeforebefore, when he enjoyed sunrises because it meant he was still alive, meant the night had passed and he could try to forget the events that had taken place. He loved watching the sunrises creep and slink and spread their delicate, trailing fingers across the sky. Now, as he looks up at the clear, warm sky, he knows something is different, wrong, and he moves closer to Harry.The Outside is too open, pressing in and around and down on him with hungry expectation. When he is in Harry's Manor, the only expectations he must meet and satisfy are Harry's, and that is enough. But he knows that here, in The Outside, there are others. Others that will want from him, will expect and demand and ask things of him that he thinks—that he knows, beneath the crashing waves, the expansive lake, his island surrounded by the sea, he cannot give. He only gives things to Harry. Harry, Harry. His necessity, his truth, his Mother and Father in the dark of his Darkness.The snap of a nearby poster flapping in the wind startles him, and he almost trips over his own feet in his haste to grab a fistful of Harry's robe, to centre and remind himself that Harry will protect him. His necessity, his truth, his Mother and Father in the dark of his Darkness.Harry ignores him and his clutching hand, but he doesn't really mind. Harry must have a lot on his mind with such a pinched and determined look on his face.He doesn't like The Outside at all, but he had been excited to go to The Outside.He's waited years and years to leave Harry's Manor. He had wandered throughout The Manor's long, desolate halls, investigating every room that wasn't locked or that Harry had forbid him enter. They were all familiarly unfamiliar, all tinged with vague feelings of sadness and loneliness and fear. Maybe he lived there in a previous life, or perhaps on a different plane where things were differently the same. But, when Harry left for this or that or work, he had two favourite spots: the rose garden and Their Room.The wild, overgrown rose garden is sequestered in a small corner of the grounds, with a fountain of a clawing dragon that sputters and dribbles. He goes there when he needs to be alone, needs to feel as if his body and thoughts and emotions are his own, and not fabricated for Harry's pleasure. (Even if he would do anything for him, his necessity.) He crouches as close as possible to the thorny brambles, ignoring the prickers that stab into him, that catch at his hair and drape it around like a blond-glittery curtain. Most of the time, huddling under the briars is enough, knees pressed to his chest, heaving breath and fingers gripping white.But sometimes … sometimes he is more desperate for that solitary control over oneself. Then, it isn't enough to huddle under the briars and he turns, carefully snaps off a thorn and cuts into his skin. His pale skin that blossoms red, sticky-red. It is his own doing, that red-sticky blossoming on his arms, his abdomen, his thighs. It is not fabricated for Harry's pleasure. (Because Harry likes to cut into him, his body, with a vivid splash, paint splash of silver). It is his own pleasure, his own doing, here in the wild, overgrown rose garden with a fountain of a clawing dragon that sputters and dribbles.Their Room is reserved for the opposite: when he is feeling lonely and needs to remember that he isn't a jumble of flotsam aimlessly floating about the sea—island surrounded by the sea—but is cared for and wanted and Harry's. Sometimes he simply drifts around the room, touching various items, toys, lifting particular ones to his face because he knows they will smell like blood and tears, sex and desire, him and Harry. Other times, when he is more desperate for that connection, he heads straight for the centre of the room, to a leather-cushioned table. When he first arrived at Harry's Manor, it was here he spent most of his time, strapped and spread for Harry to do with as he pleased.For a moment, he simply drinks in the sight of it, lets the memories wash over him like the bitter waves in his mind except they don't sting as much and he enjoys the feeling of being overtaken and swallowed. (Like the sticky-red over pale skin, pale skin.) Then he sighs, flittering and fluttering out of him, and climbs up onto the leather-cushioned table, pressing his face against the brown leather because he wants—needs—the smell, the touch, the sight of a red mark on his face afterwards. He remembers a time when red marks on his face were distasteful and inappropriate. When he was a Malfoy, but Harry says he's just Draco now, and he believes him. Once, he had accidentally fallen asleep on the leather-cushioned table and Harry had punished him for initiating a sexual encounter. He isn't allowed to initiate sexual encounters because Harry says he isn't good enough and doesn't know what he's doing. Harry is his necessity and his truth and he understands. He doesn't deserve Harry—is so grateful and blessed to have him.Lost in his thoughts, he doesn't notice that Harry has stopped in front of him, and he knocks into him, like his hand into his orange juice this morning. (He thinks gleefully because he loves making connections, onetwothree.)He expects a reprimand, at least, for not paying attention, but Harry says nothing—simply shoves him into a broken-down, red box. He stumbles a bit and ends up roughly pushed against the glass panes of the box as Harry clambers in behind him and closes the door. Jagged lines blur in his vision and he blinks, blinks again, and cranes his head back to bring them into focus. A broken pane, a broken pane of crystallised fear dances and sings and calls to him, glittering in the sunlight. He stares at it. Wonders if maybe, maybeperhaps, he can get his island surrounded by the sea back in his hand.Instead, he shudders and averts his eyes.No. No. No. Harry said he's not to touch any more glass today because he's lost any chance of earning privileges. But, he ruined breakfast for Harry—who thinks that breakfast is the most important meal of the day—and he understands.He awkwardly contorts himself around his leash and the small space to face Harry.Harry, Harry, his necessity and truth and Harry, Harry.He shudders again and turns his attention to the appearance of the broken-down, red box.He thinks he should recognise it from somewhere, anywhere and everywhere. There is a faint niggling in his still-twisted gut as if he should, but when he dredges through his memories, through the blanket-white fog, it remains frustratingly out of reach. (A phantom shadow that slip, slips away.) The box is rather grimy and—and something he can't recall, but knows he dislikes. He grimaces and inches closer to Harry, away from the sides of the box because he doesn't want to touch it and get—get something germs.Harry gives a quick glance to The—empty, seedy—Outside and picks up part of a black thing that hangs on the wall, pushing a few buttons as he does so.He blinks and blinks and then his eyes widen. "Tel—tel-lyphone!" he says happily, hands flitting about like butterflies in his excitement. (The trembling of their wings echoed in his muscles.)Harry's head jerks up and he looks surprised, lips parted and face slack. But then his eyes narrow, flicker-flash splash red, and his face flushes dark, mouth opening to say—"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic! Please state your name and the purpose of your visit."He jumps and grabs Harry's left arm—forgetting, forgetting that he knew and knew Harry was about to get angry. (Angry like he hates because he only wants to please Harry, Harry.) He frantically searches the broken-down, red box for the source of the cheery female voice, his fear tripling and trilling higher when he sees that it is still just him and Harry.Harry, Harry, who sneers at him and cruelly shoves him away. Back and away until he's touching, touching, the grimy something sides of the box, and he cries out because now he's contaminated. C-Contaminated-ated-ated. Will never be clean, clean, be clean of the something. "It's just Harry, Doris," he hears from a distance, a distance, an impenetrable distance away.He's scratching, heaving, needing to purgepurgepurge, outoutout the c-contamination-ation, but tanned and calloused hands are covering his own. Gripping, grasping, seizing, drawing his pale, pale hands away from his body, and a harsh voice is saying, "Draco, stop."And swimming green eyes of the darkest colour are searing into him, baring his soul to be picked apart and scavenged. He whimpers, hands gripping, grasping, seizing at nothing and everything and Harry who is petting him and cradling him and soothing him.The floor suddenly drops beneath his feet and he staggers into Harry. The cheery female voice is giggling from high, high above where his fear triples and trills to. She's drifting away, saying, "Oh, hello, welcome to the Ministry, sir! You certainly took a round-about way …", and then she is gone and gone and it is quiet."I … I'm c-contaminated-ated," he says, pressing closer to his Harry; hoping, wishing, he could crawl inside Harry and huddle like he does under the roses. Protected, heaving chest and fingers gripping white. He is not stupid; he is not naïve. The Others wait for him wherever this moving red box is going. They will want from him, expect and demand and ask things of him that he knows, knows he cannot give because he only gives to Harry. He trusts Harry, though. He does, he does. So, if Harry wants to take him to the Others, he will follow. Follow as he always does. "C-Contaminated-ated by the something."And his hair sighs, flittering and fluttering out of him; drifting, waving around him. "No, you aren't contaminated, Draco."He clutches harder, tighter, and shakes his head. "The box. This box is … c-c-contaminated-ated by the something. I don't—I … remember it, but I … I don't know what it is. I just didn't—don't—I've n-never liked it, Harry, Harry."Harry, who tenses, twitching and twitching, heartbeat of wind slow and raging in his ear. (Bumpabumpbumpbump.)He's said something wrong, something Harry doesn't like and he cringes, his grip more desperate. Hopes, wishes, he could crawl inside Harry and huddle like he does under the roses, because Harry is angry and he only ever wants to please Harry as he knows he can. "I'm sorry, Harry, p-please. Harry, I'm sorry," he whispers, eyes burning, scouring, like the salty waves crashing in his mind. "I didn't m-m-mean it, I didn't, I swear. P-Please, please, I'm sorry, Harry. I lo—""Shh," Harry croons, arms wrapping strong around his back, like the straps on his leather-cushioned table wrap strong around his wrists and ankles. "No, it's okay, precious. I know you didn't mean it."He sniffles and rubs his face into Harry's chest because he loves the warmth, the strength and security of his necessity, his truth. "Are you … angry with m-me?" he hesitantly asks, fingers gripping white, legs rickety-weak as the world shudders.Ding!"First floor; Atrium."He jumps at the voice, then nearly falls when Harry suddenly slips out of his arms and walks through the opening doors."Draco, come."He cries out as he's yanked forward by his neck, the leash almost whirling him around before he catches his balance. He runs after Harry as best he can, whilst Others scurry to and fro. He stares up at the blond-glittery ceiling, the flashing green fireplaces, the awe-inspiring fountain of a wizard and a witch and a centaur and a house-elf. As he stumbles in front of the fountain, he tries to reach out and touch the pooling, glistening water, but his leash jingjangle jerks and he is past it. He glances back and feels sorry for the poor house-elf at the bottom of the fountain. (Fountain that doesn't sputter and dribble and claw.) The house-elves he knows at Harry's Manor are nice, and they don't deserve to be at the bottomest-bottom of a fountain. "Harry!" A female voice calls to them on a third floor corridor. (Not cheery, no, not cheery, but exasperated.) "There you are! I've been waiting ages for you to—Oh."Harry stops in front of him and he ducks, ducks behind his Harry—scared and lost and surrounded by Others. (Island, island, surrounded by the sea.) He peeks around Harry and sees a female Other with brown, wavy hair and an armful of papers. She seems unfamiliarly familiar, as if he knew her in a previous life or from another plane that is differently the same."Yeah, hello to you too, Hermione." Harry grins, rolling his eyes and ignoring the Others sudden silence. "It's amazing what friendship will do to common courtesy, eh?"Her-my-oh-nee. Hermy-uhnee. Hermione.He frowns and frowns on the inside where Harry can't—maybeperhaps—see, because Harry says it makes him look petulant and spoilt when he frowns on the outside, outside. He remembers …He squints and tilts his head and ignores the funny looks the Other—Hermione—gives him. (But he doesn't give her anything unless she's Harry.) He thinks, he knows he should remember her from somewhere, anywhere and everywhere. "Do I know … you?" he whispers."Well, what do you know? The ferret's gone mental!" A deep voice booms from behind him, and something slaps around his shoulders, knocking him forward slightly. (Like his hand into his orange juice this morning, morning.)He turns to look at the male Other and nearly goes blind with the profusion of red assaulting his eyes. Frightened, he immediately scrambles out from under the hold of the Other and places Harry between them, fingers gripping white on Harry's arm."Ron, stop," Hermione says, a disapproving frown lining her brow.Ron. Ron. Ron.Another name that is unfamiliarly familiar, a vague awareness that wiggles and nibbles its way through his mind. He peers around Harry again, in time to see the blindingly red Other—Ron—roll his eyes and move to Hermione's side."Stop? Are you kidding? I'm just getting started! This is the perfect opportunity to get back at the bastard for all he did to us at Hogwarts—what he did to Dumbledore. And he doesn't even remember us!"Ron leers at him and Harry chuckles and he shrinks back, edging closer to Harry with a jinglyjangle of his chain and ripples undulating across the expansive lake of his mind.They are all laughing at him—even Harry, Harry—and he doesn't understand why. Doesn't know what Ron means when he says all he did to us and Hogwarts and Dumbledore, although hearing the last sends a bolt of panic shooting down his spine.Why is Harry laughing at him?He hasn't done anything else wrong, has he? He's been good for Harry today, except for this morning when he ruined breakfast and Harry got angry, angry. But, Harry thinks breakfast is the most important meal of the day and he understands, he does, he does.He thinks, he knows he hasn't done anything else to deserve being laughed at. (Like the house-elves at Harry's Manor don't deserve to be at the bottomest-bottom of a fountain that doesn't sputter or claw or dribble.) Harry is laughing at him though, and the blanket-white fog is clearing slightly, thinning and revealing thoughts, emotions, that certainly can't be his. He likes Harry, loves and adores Harry because Harry is perfect and his and he just knows that Harry feels the same way about him. These thoughts, these emotions, don't belong to him. He doesn't hate Harry, doesn't want to call him Potty in a biting, sarcastic tone and give him a good hex or two.Harry is just Harry, and he is just Draco.Harry is perfect, and he is blessed.He really is—knows and knows he is because he likes Harry, loves and adores Harry for being perfect and his and returning his love as he knows Harry does.But, Harry is laughing at him, cruelly and mockingly, along with the two Others—Ron and Hermione—and his burning and swirling anger, anger is back. It is a banked fire of ripples undulating across the expansive lake of his mind, rumbling and grumbling and smoking in his gut beneath the crashing waves and blanket-white fog and thoughts, emotions, that can'tcan'tcan't be his. His teeth are on edge, silver flash edge, and his hands are clenching and curling into themselves, like his body does when Harry has had a bad night and yells and shouts and beats him for things he can't ever remember doing. He must have though. He must, he must, because Harry would never punish him without reason. Never, never, never, Harry, Harry.But, he is not stupid; he is not naïve.He knows, knows these two Others are like the moving red box, c-contaminated-ated by the something that he unknowingly knows he doesn't like. They are already expecting of him—expecting of him to be a Malfoy when he is just Draco now. Demanding and asking things of him that he won'twon'twon't give because they are not Harry and he only gives things to Harry and he doesn't like things c-contaminated-ated-ated by the something, either."Stop being so childish, Ron. He's clearly not the same Draco we went to school with," Hermione is saying, saying and adjusting the papers in her arms before pinning Harry, Harry in a fierce gaze. "And you should be ashamed of yourself, Harry James Potter. You told me you were taking care of Draco, not leading him around and treating him like a pet!"The rumbling and grumbling in his gut sparks, up through and through the slowly fading blanket-white fog, and he is stepping in front of his Harry. "You d-d-don't know what you're talking about, M-Mudblood," he sneers, before his eyes widen and his leash viciously jingjangle snaps and he wonders where that unfamiliarly familiar word came from.Crimson splash—vivid splash—emerald eyes are blazing in his face, burning and swirling higher than his own anger, anger, and he shudders and averts his gaze. Too intense, too shrewd and knowing. But, a cold and cruel hand takes his chin in a bruising grip and forces, forces him to meet those crimson-splash, sticky-red eyes whilst bitter, stinging waves crash against the shores of thought and emotion. (Thought and emotion that can'tcan'tcan't be his because he loves Harry, he knows, he thinks.)"Never say that again," his Harry says calmly, in a voice that cuts into his body with a silver-flash of menace.His eyes burn and blur and swim—up, over, through the blanket-white fog that dwells in his mind—and he nods. Head bobbing, up and down and to and fro, like the skull and snake he had on his arm, his arm before it was removed in a silver-scrape, burning crimson-splash. "Y-yes, Harry. I p-promise. I'll n-never s-s-say it again, I-I promise."Red-sticky eyes grow and swell and then he is being shoved away until he cannot be shoved away any more. "Good." And jingjangle is his leash on his body, collar twisting tight as the flannel Harry used to wash his face with after he'd cried.He only ever wants to please his Harry—he does, he does, doesn't he?—and he knows he has been dismissed. It hurt, hurt, hurts. Deep inside where the crashing waves and the thinning, blanket-white fog are, where the rumbling and grumbling in his gut has turned into a crackling, burning fire that wavers in the wind of thoughts, emotions, that certainly can't be his, but he understands now. Understands now, now, now, why he might want to hate Harry, might want to call him Potty in a biting, sarcastic tone and give him a good hex or two.But, he doesn't. He loves Harry, his Harry, he knows and knows and knows he does because Harry is perfect and his and loves him in return. He's certain of it, he is.He clambers to his feet, head down, hunched and huddled shoulders to avoid looking at the stranger strange Others stepping over and past him without a thought to help. Embarrassed, he shuffles as far away from Harry as he can manage, to a wall—a wall he imagines is his roses, imagines, hopes and wishes, is his Harry. If it was Harry, he could crawl inside him as he wanted to do in the c-contaminated-ated moving red box. Maybeperhaps then he wouldn't be so embarrassed, be so confused and tangled and lost in thoughts, emotions, that can't belong to him. Can't be his as his as his, although he is beginning to understand, beginning to accept, why he might want them to be.He stands in front of the wall—his roses, his Harry, Harry—for a long time. Years and years, as he clutches and hugs himself for reassurance against his confusion, against the thoughts, emotions, that are like the prickers of his roses—pestering, stabbing, lifting the blond-glittery fog from his mind in small increments that tease and taunt. (Like Harry teased and taunted him as he laughed, laughed, laughed.) Waves crash in his mind, louder and louder in their freedom, in his anger, anger that crackles and pops, and the mumble-whisper talk of Umbridge this and werewolf that. But, beneath all the sounds competing for his attention, howling and screaming and shrieking in his mind, he can hear the shuffling of papers and the delicate sounds of someone shifting in their chair.Blink-blinking, he looks around for the source, the source of the incongruous sound because he's used to picking them out, oh yes, yes. Waiting, panting, sweat dripping and eyes blind and pain gripping white, he is used to picking them out for reassurance that he is not alone, for awareness of what is to come. He tilts his head and squints his eyes and looks around the corner of a doorway, closer, closer to his Harry than he should be. He knows, knows he has been dismissed-issed, should be as far away from Harry as he can be, but he is curious. And he likes picking out incongruous sounds, oh yes, yes, always and always.A woman sits on a swivelly-swivelling chair at a small desk, dressed in a robe as fine as his finest as he wears right now.In a hollow, whistling rush of air that immediately silences the clamouring noise in his mind, his world tunnels and collapses and centres on this woman and her finest as fine robe, her darkest of black hair, and her slightly pug nose. Forgotten memories leap and lurch forward, dancing and singing and calling to him under and in the shadows of his blanket-white fog. (Like the crystallised shards of his fear in a silver-scrape-scrape from beforebeforebefore.) "P-Pansy?" he whispers, eyes widening and a hand clenching around the door frame.The woman—Pansy, Pansy, Pansy—looks up, surprise flashing across her face. Then her eyes narrow and her body stiffens. "Draco," she says, coldly and cruelly. (Takes his chin in a bruising grip.) She stands up and begins gathering the papers scattered about her desk with quick, efficient movements of her delicate, pale—pale as his—hands."P-Pansy … what are—you r-r-remember me, don't you?" He takes a small step forward, into the room with a leash that swells and grows tense, like the waves roaring and foaming in his silent, silent as silent mind.Pansy snorts. "Of course I do, Draco." And the papers are gathered and armed in her arms as she walks around her cleared desk. (Will never be clean, be clear, be clean of the something.)He frowns and frowns on the outside, on the outside where he isn't supposed to because Harry is talking to Ron and Hermione and the thoughts, emotions, that maybeperhaps belong to him are telling him it's okay to do so, and he believes them. He does, he does. "W-what are you doing here? I … I thought—""No," Pansy interrupts, in a low, lower than low voice that is almost a mumble-whisper. She glances around the room nervously. "I was under Imperius. They proved it." She pauses then, her eyes returning to him, settling their heavy weight on his silent as silent mind. "But … I haven't forgotten, Draco. I know what you said, what you did whilst he tortured you. Whilst they all tortured you."He gasps, eyes widening, air clawing at his throat like his fountain that sputters and dribbles, like Harry wraps and wraps around his throat when he is angry.Pansy, Pansy tosses her darkest of dark hair over her shoulder and her lip curls in disgust. (Unfamiliarly familiar, from a previous life, another plane that is differently the same.) "Oh, yes, I heard it all, you sick fuck," she hisses. "The way you craved his touch like a common whore, even though you knew the truth. You knew the truth and yet it didn't matter." She appears revolted, but it quickly fades away beneath a sneer as she looks him over with her gaze, her over-bright and searing eyes. "And now look at you. With a collar and a leash, eager to please your new Master."His fire, that blazing and burning and crackling—anger, anger—is swirling still higher, pushing and lifting and sending his blond-glittery, blanket-white fog evaporating to new heights until only the faintest of wispy-wisps remains, and he is moving to confront Pansy with a confidence that he remembers. And he remembers it all now. Every detail is emblazoned on his mind in perfect clarity.He knows of insanity and lies and manipulation.He knows of torture and humiliation and rape.All he did to us and Hogwarts and Dumbledore.His leash is stretching taut, too tight and tight, but he could give a flying, flying, flying fuckfuckfuck, because his need for vengeance and retribution is blinding. Blinding as the sun on a hot, hot day, as Harry's emerald—lyinglying—eyes when they are in bed together. But, Harry will get his comeuppance, as well. Oh yes, indeed. Harry will get what belongs-longs to him, what he deserves for all he has done. (Laughing and laughing; the bottomest-bottom of a fountain that doesn't claw or dribble or sputter.) The manipulation and the drugging and the advantages he has taken. Harry will get what is his, that fucking b-bastard.His collar pulls back on his throat, wheezing, chest heaving and clenching, curling fists, twisting tight as the flannel Harry had used with false empathy this morning, morning. (When he had cried and cried and thought he was insane—he is, he is—and embarrassed himself so horrifically in front of that b-b-bastard Harry.) He ignores the tension however, presses against and snaps it, firmly and firmly staggering closer to Pansy.Pansy—that traitor, that liar, th-that b-bitch. Bitchbitchbitch.And he knows his anger, anger is for himself and he is happy as he is furious. Happy, happy, because the fog has lifted, lifted, and his mind is his own, crashing against the shores of his existence. Anywhere and everywhere with his island surrounded by the sea and his soothing lullaby.His leash is jingjangling loose now, fluid and mobile and slithering behind him as he strides forward. Closer and closer, smirking and smirking, twitching and twitching whilst Pansy backs away. Further and further—anger, anger—black eyes widening and glistening, swirling higher and higher as his fire until—"Draco! What the hell do you think you're doing?"And he stops. Freezes. Twitching and clenching and smirking.He slowly turns around and around to face Harry, his Harry who is no longer his Harry because he knows, knows the Truth. The Truth of his necessity who is no longer a necessity because his mind is his own and own and crashing against the shores of his existence.He stares at Harry, Harry, who appears surprised and uncertain, before he throws his head back and laughs and laughs and lets his fire bubble and burn, up and through and out of his gut to fly and evaporate through the air like the blanket-white fog he is finally rid of.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to JK.Rating: G.Author's Note: Takes place before In the Beginning. Technically, this is the first part in the series.Short and sweet. :)---------------------------------------------------------------Another sunrise colours his ground-level window in grimy hues of pink, orange, and yellow. Another night fades into the obscurity of his mind, swallowed by the inky darkness of That Corner.Another day shall pass as it always does. He will count two hundred and forty-seven blocks of mortar stone, and he will scratch his right calf, gritting his teeth against the rising pain. By nightfall, he will be reduced to a sobbing, wailing shell of his normal self.He will beg. Plead. Throw his pride and life away, if only They would come and relieve the burning agony.And thus, one by one, They will silently flow into his cell, black robes swaying elegantly about their legs. His dark angels, blessed guardian angels of his father's lullaby.His bargain—my pride, my life, the pain!—will be accepted, of course.Faces of purest white innocence, They will crouch beside his shuddering, clawing body. Gently will They stroke his arching neck, his sweat-soaked ribs and thrashing legs. Gracefully will They administer their mercy, from the most delicate of glittering phials.One by one, They will pass the phial.One by one, a drop of absolution each.He will not feel shame in his greediness for their holy offering. There is none in lurching up to every hand, in thrusting his thirsty tongue out to greet each drop. It's an aphrodisiac to his taste buds, his senses, his mind. An addiction he would never willingly shed. He welcomes the sweet tang of forbearance and humility. Lets his eyes roll back in his head and a low moan rumble out of his throat. Ice will spread throughout his veins, will cloak the fiery pain and numb his thoughts.As sleep finally begins to claim him, he will find his arms and legs too weak, too heavy to lift if he should wish. But no, he never does. Not even when They clamour closer, let their hands drift and stroke and squeeze and mar. They have released him from the pain, and so he will ignore the dull protestations of his mind and receive his penance, his atonement. His redemption.
Hum a little melody, my sweetest child.
I will, I shall, my darkest guardian angels.
He giggles and stretches on the cold, stone floor of his cell. One arm, two. One leg, another. The chain connected to the manacle about his ankle clinks and clatters. Slowly, cautiously, he sits up, grimacing at the sore spots he's developed over the course of the night.Right on cue, a bowl appears before him with a light pop. Filled with steaming, thick broth and accompanied by warm, crusty bread laid over the rim of the bowl.A rat appears from the left corner of his cell. Fur thin and balding, claws scratching at the floor, whiskers frittering to and fro.He frowns and idly scratches his right calf. Frittering?He hums thoughtfully. Fritt-ering. Fritter-ing? Frittering.Grimacing, he reaches for the bowl and carefully pulls it closer.Frittering is not a word—leastwise, he hasn't heard of it before. But, even if he's pretty certain it is not a word, it sounds right to his ears, to his mind. The only other word he can think of to replace it with is wiggling. Wiggling is too heavy and cumbersome for the delicate movements of the rat's whiskers, though.He picks up the length of bread, breaking a hunk off with nimble fingers.One dip, two.
Plip. Plop. Drip. Drop.
He glances up at the rat and its steady, but hesitant progress towards him. Frowns and tilts his head. Usually, the rat is more comfortable with him. Arrogant, even. He has had to guard his food from the conniving little creature more than once. Guard his food whilst also enjoying the company it brings him. If the rat is with him, is accepting his food and regarding him with beady, black eyes, than he is not invisible. He is not forgotten by the world to this lonely cell and left to rot into the bones that creak within his body."Here, here," he whispers hoarsely, and holds his soup-soaked piece of bread out to it.The rat stops its steady progress out of the darkness. It regards his offering, and then him, with unblinking wariness. One of its fragile, gnarled hand reaches up to scratch its cheek.He should give the rat a name. A special name for a special rat that keeps him company and shares his food and has not forgotten him.The rat creeps closer. Sits on its haunches and tests the air. Sniff, sniff. Fritter, fritter."Here, here," he whispers again, desperately this time. The rat needs to take his food. He moves closer to the rat, onto his hands and knees and over his bowl of broth, one hand waving the now-soggy bread. "Please. Take it. It's okay."Special rat blinks and moves forward, but then glances to the door of his cell and whirls around, bolting for the corner it appeared from.He stares after Special rat and hates how he has to fight the urge to call it back. Beg. Plead. Throw pride and life away if only Special rat would take his food and confirm that he has not been forgotten.He sighs and sits back, half-heartedly eating the bread he'd offered to the rat. It's cold now."Draco?"He jumps, accidentally overturning his bowl of soup as he turns to face the voice.Immediately, he scrambles back. Away from his cell door, away from the green eyes owlishly blinking at him between the bars. Shock makes his body tremble and his heart pound. Hope makes him forget about mistakes committed and impossibilities."P-Potter?"
|
10076843
|
The Blood Promise Series
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": null,
"Characters": null,
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by Lady Bahiya [archived by HPFandom_archivist]",
"chapters": "3/3",
"completed": "",
"published": "2005-12-21T00:00:00",
"words": "3,224",
"Additional Tags": "Slash, Explicit Language, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Alternate Universe, Humor, Parody",
"Relationship": "Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter",
"Character": null,
"Relationships": null,
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom, Darkest Midnight",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": "Gen, M/M",
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
*Disclaimer*: I am not the fabulous JK Rowling, nor do I wish to be (ok maybe a little). Harry Potter belongs to her and her alone. I am not making any money from this story nor do I intend to. I'm just playing within the world she has so wonderfully created. The following story is a figment of my own imagination and I fully intend to put Harry and his friends back, unharmed and alive, when I'm done. Thank you.*A/N*: Whipped this up in one of my bored moments at work. Middle names have been guessed at. This is the first in what I'm calling the “Blood Promise” series."You promised.""I thought you were kidding!""I don't kid when it comes to promises.""I can't do this!""You swore you would! Was that a lie?""...""You had your fingers crossed, didn't you?""...""You did! I knew you did!""I can't keep this promise!""Why not?""Because it's not right and it goes against every fiber of my being!""You promised!""Well...it wasn't exactly a promise. More like a bet if you want to get specific.""Whatever. I won. You promised!""What can I do to get out of it?" Fingers running up and down the open V of the other's shirt."Nothing. You're not getting out of it. You promised.""They're going to laugh me out of the Hall if they don't try and hex me first!""Never stopped you from being a git before. Besides, it was a Blood Promise. Now pay up!""I hate you," Spoken softly."Liar," also spoken softly as the first body stepped closer to the second."Do I have to?" Needling whine."Yes.""Do you love me?" Arms going around the other's neck."I love you more than I love the sun in the sky," Love shining in his eyes."Kiss me first.""My favorite hobby," A trademark smirk. Lips are sampled like a rare chocolate. Neither noticed the parchment that had been held in a damp hand, fall to the floor.
In the event that House Slytherin loses to House Gryffindor by more than 175 points in the final Quidditch match before graduation, then I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, do hereby promise Harry James Potter that I will enter the Great Hall at breakfast on the day after the final Quidditch match between said Houses and announce to all present that I am in love with aforementioned Gryffindor and plan to marry him and have his children after graduation.
This promise, signed in BloodJune 17th, 1997,
Draco L. MalfoyHarry J. Potter
witnessed by: Hermione J. Granger (Gryffindor)witnessed by: Ronald A. Weasley (Gryffindor)witnessed by: Pansy S. Parkinson (Slytherin)witnessed by: Severus P. Snape (Slytherin)
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: Malfoys don't welsh on bets...but then again, this Malfoy didn't think he'd be in love with Harry Potter.
*A/N*: A Prequel of sorts to "Blood Promise". This is the second story in the series.
*Flashback*
"Potter, I'd like to have a word with you," came the insolent voice from behind him. Harry finished cinching up his elbow pads then turned on the bench to look at him."What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry sighed, seemingly bored with Draco's antics."You all right, there, Harry?" Ron asked, stepping between the two."I'm not going to hex your star player, Weaselby, if that's what you're worried about," Draco sneered. The other Gryffindors began to quietly leave the locker room."I'm more worried about what Harry could do to you, Ferret Face," Ron scowled."I don't need your concern, half-wit," Draco replied. Harry wanted to laugh."It's okay, Ron. I think I want to hear what he has to say. You go on out.""Don't be late, Harry. It's the last game of our school career," Ron begged, grabbing his broom. Giving Draco an unreadable look, Ron left them alone. Draco and Harry stared at each other for a minute longer before Draco launched himself at Harry, claiming his lips. They came up for air a few moments later."God I didn't think he was ever going to leave!" Draco sighed, leaning his forehead against Harry's shoulder."Missed me, did you?""Like you wouldn't believe," Draco smiled, as Harry kissed him again. Harry and Draco had been a couple since the end of their 5th year, when Draco had been forced by Dumbledore to spend the summer with Harry's "evil muggle" family. Dumbledore had claimed it was part of Draco's learning experience on how Harry spent his time when he wasn't at Hogwarts. And he'd even left instructions to them to treat Draco like they treated Harry...in other words, Draco became little more than a common servant.The Dursleys had been out to dinner and a movie, leaving the two boys locked in the house to varnish the dining room table and chairs. Harry had taken off his shirt because it was a hot summer evening and none of the doors had been open. Draco's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth when he caught a glimpse of a shirtless Harry Potter. Harry had grown up, without Draco's notice. At 11, Harry was very much like an ugly duckling. At 17, he was - in a word - gorgeous. No wonder all the girls and a few of the boys drooled over him.Harry had caught him staring and without thinking, kissed him. Draco was floored. It was the last thing he expected Harry to do and if he was honest with himself, he'd been wanting Harry to kiss him for a very long time. That very same night, Harry invited Draco into his bed. They'd been together ever since.At the time only 3 people knew of their relationship. Hermione - because Harry had told her (Ron came later and was harder to convince), Pansy - because Draco had told her, and Snape - because he'd caught them in the act during one of his detentions. Harry brought his mind back to the present and the pale blonde in his arms."So what did you need to see me about, love?""It's the last Quidditch match between you and me, Slytherin and Gryffindor.""I realize that," Harry smiled."What will you do now that it's over?""I'm thinking about working with snakes.""That's brilliant," Draco smiled. "You do have a talent for it. Although I am surprised you don't become an Auror or a pro-Quidditch player.""Drae...you're stalling," Harry knew him so well."Ok...well...I want to make a bet with you.""What kind of bet?""If Slytherin beats Gryffindor by more than 175 points, you have to do whatever I ask.""What if I win?" Draco noticed he didn't mention the team as a whole but left that alone. After playing against Harry since second year, he knew better."Same terms.""If Gryffindor beats Slytherin by more than 175 points, you have to announce to everyone at breakfast the following morning that you love me and want to have my children," Draco gaped at him in astonishment, as his heart beat hard against his chest. He warmed at the idea of having Harry's children."Deal, then. Shall we make this a Blood Promise?""That's a serious promise, Drae," Harry warned. "Sure you want to do that?""As sure as the sun rises and falls each day.""We'll need witnesses for this, you know.""Taken care of," Draco nodded. Then his mind wrapped around something."You want to marry me?""You caught on, finally," Harry grinned. "And I'm not asking twice.""You didn't ask the first time.""Marry me, Draco.""Let me think on that one.""Don't take too long. I have a Snitch to catch," He kissed Draco hard and then left him. The match between the two houses was nearing the 7 hour mark. Madame Hooch called an intermission so everyone could rest a bit and get something to eat. Harry and Draco rounded up their witnesses and met them in a secluded part of the Pitch."Draco are you sure about this?" Pansy asked him for the 10th time. "You know Harry always catches the damn thing.""I'm sure Pansy. Haven't you been watching the score? We're up 150 points.""But he's Harry Potter! Seeker of the Gods!""I agree with Parkinson on this one Draco," Snape stated. "You are going to lose.""Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sev," Draco scowled. Harry, Hermione and Ron soon joined them. Snape produced a quill and 2 parchments with the details of the individual bets mapped out."Gentlemen. Are you quite sure you want to do this?" he asked for the final time."Only if Draco is," Harry replied."I'm sure of it," Draco nodded, snatching the quill. He made a cut in his thumb with his wand and dipped the quill tip into it. Then he signed his name to both parchments. Snape spelled away his blood from the quill and handed it to Harry, who repeated Draco's actions. Once their signatures were set, the 4 witnesses signed their names before the parchments were sent away with a flick of Snape's wand. They each felt the magic of the bet taking hold. Somewhere in the distance, Madame Hooch signaled time. Harry gave one last look at Draco."I'm going to hold you to your promise, Malfoy.""Then I guess I'm just going to have to beat you to the snitch, Potter," Draco grinned before walking away. "And by the way, the answer to your question is yes." He didn't stop to see the look of pure joy that passed over Harry's face. Luck seemed to be against Draco and his Slytherin brothers from that moment on. Some serious discussion must have occurred in the Gryffindor locker room because they began to play with a passion that rivaled Slytherin's. They ganged up on Slytherin Beaters, Chasers and even their Keeper - racking up the points like candy.Soon Gryffindor was in the lead, 845 to 770. Draco began to concentrate on looking for the Snitch. He cast a quick glance at Harry, who was also watching for it. Harry tensed for a moment, then went into a steep dive. More nervous than scared, and without thinking, Draco followed him, sure he was hot on the tail of the snitch. He nearly got knocked off his broom by a flying bludger, when he finally noticed Harry was no longer below him. Looking around quickly, he spotted him on the other side of the Pitch, seconds away from closing his hand around the Golden Snitch. Draco's eyes closed on a sigh as Lee's voice echoed over the field.
"AND HARRY POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE FINAL MATCH OF THE YEAR! WAY TO GO HARRY! QUIDDITCH AT HOGWARTS WON'T BE THE SAME WITHOUT YOU!"
Harry caught Draco's eye across the way and smiled wickedly, melting Draco's heart. Draco resigned himself to the fate that awaited him the next morning. But he was going to try and persuade his boyfriend ("Fiancè" he reminded himself) to not go through with the bet. Never let it be said that a Malfoy welshes on a deal. But then again...this Malfoy never thought he'd be affianced to The Man Who Beat Voldemort...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Author's notes: Draco has a confession to make but is anyone really surprised?
*A/N*: Sequel to "Blood Promise" & "Blood Promise II: The Bet". This is the third and final story in the “Blood Promise” series. Draco's alarm clock blared loudly in his ear. He reached through his curtains, snatched up the clock and promptly threw it against the wall where it smashed with a satisfying crunch. He buried his head beneath his pillow, determined to hide in his bed.But it seems that once again, Fate was laughing at him. His pillow was ripped from his head and his blankets pulled from his body. He sat up with a grunt, shivering in the cold air."What the bloody fuck, Parkinson!" he scowled. Pansy simply smiled at his discomfort."Time to get up Draco. Today's the day.""Fuck off," he growled, flopping back down on his bed. She eyed his nakedness with a bored expression."Get your lazy arse up, Malfoy. As much as I love staring at your naked body, Harry would kill me then you for being naked in front of me in the first place. An angry, jealous Harry is not something I want to deal with this morning." Draco said nothing for a moment."I can't do this, Pansy," he muttered."Do what, love?""I can't go through with this bet. What the hell was I thinking?""Is the great Draco Malfoy, Self-Proclaimed Sex God of Slytherin, admitting he's chicken shit?" Pansy gaped. Draco looked at her."Yes," he admitted. Surprisingly, Pansy didn't laugh at him like he expected. She handed him his blanket and he wrapped it around his waist. Then she sat next to him on his bed."Draco, do you love Harry?""Of course I do!" he exclaimed without hesitation."Do you want to be with him, have his children and the like?""More than life itself.""Then what's the problem admitting it out loud?""The problem is I have to admit to the whole school that Harry and I have been shagging like rabbits since 5th year and some how, some way in the middle of it all, we fell in love with each other. I just know I'm going to get hexed.""You'd be surprised by how many people already know about the two of you, no matter how hard you tried to hide it.""What?" Draco was astonished. "Who have you been talking to?""Nobody. Draco, you need to give the student body a little more credit. None of us are stupid. Even a blind man could see the love the two of you have for each other. The question is, do you disappoint the greatest thing that ever happened to you by hiding like a baby in your room, or do you hold your head up high and announce to one and all your plans for a certain green-eyed Parseltongue-speaking Gryffindor Hottie?" Then she left him. Breakfast was in full swing and Harry was growing nervous. There had been no sign of Draco in nearly 20 minutes. Hermione and Ron both looked at him."He wouldn't ditch you, Harry," Ron tried to reassure his friend, all the while shoveling eggs and toast in his mouth like they were going out of style. Hermione rolled her eyes at him before looking at Harry."What he means is, Draco, in true Malfoy fashion, is probably having a hissy fit because he lost a bet and is trying to wheedle his way out of it.""I knew it," Harry groaned. He should have known Draco would chicken out. He was resigned to that fact when the object of his desire, finally made an appearance. Harry's breath caught in his throat.Draco had chosen his outfit with care. He wore a white sleeveless tunic embroidered in silver and green stitching, matching tunic pants that flowed outward from his ankles, his feet encased in soft white boots.He ignored the stares of his fellow students (and Harry in particular) and strode confidently up to the head table. Harry wished he could hear what was being said. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, young Mr Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked."If I may, sir. I have something to say to everyone," Draco replied. Dumbledore nodded and pointed to the podium behind him. Draco turned and cast Sonorous on himself before addressing the school."Most of you are probably wondering what I'm doing up here and why I'm dressed the way I am," he paused a moment, seeing several students nod. "Fact is, I made a bet...and lost. And now I'm here to pay up, so to speak.” He paused and waited for the chattering to die down.“A little over 6 years ago, I did something that to this day I regret and if I had to go back and do it all over again, I don't think I would. Or else I wouldn't be where I am today. It was during my 5th year here that I realized that not everything is black and white. My eyes were opened, and for the first time ever, I felt like I could be my own person. Someone here helped me realize that I can be a good and decent person. I've changed because of this person - changed for the good. And encourage not only the members of my own House, but all 4 Houses to find some good in each other, like I have.” He looked around the entire hall, catching everyone's eye.“The whole war was basically about one useless man who hates all things muggle because of the circumstances surrounding his own birth. Yes, ladies and gents - Voldemort was half muggle," Shock waves of sound echoed through the Great Hall. "Now honestly, did you really want someone like him leading you around by the short and curlies? I didn't.” He took a deep breath and plunged in.“And so I make this declaration today, not only to settle my debt, but to do the one thing I've waited to do for 2 years. I, Draco Lucius Malfoy," He turned to stare Harry directly in the eye, "do hereby state of my own free will that I am totally and irrevocably in love with Harry James Potter and have been since the end of 5th Year. And that it is my deepest wish and desire for him to be my husband, till death do we part, to raise whatever children we have together as life-mates. If he will have me," Dead silence greeted this announcement as all eyes focused on the Gryffindor table."Harry? He's joking right?" Dean asked. "Please tell me he's joking." Apparently Dean was the only clueless one in the entire school."Have you known me to joke about anything this serious, Dean Thomas?" Draco asked, still looking at Harry. Dean wisely remained silent. "Harry?" Draco wondered. Surely Potter wasn't going to leave him like this! Harry looked at him, his heart in his eyes. He got to his feet and cast Sonorous on himself so everyone could here his answer. He went to stand beside Draco."I believe you want an answer to the very question I asked you yesterday," Harry smiled."I do," Draco nodded."There's your answer, then," Harry grinned before pulling him into his arms for a deep kiss. When the clapping started, both boys broke apart startled and looked around for the source. Surprisingly, it was Snape who started clapping. And he was standing as well. The other teachers followed suit, followed by Houses Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor with Slytherin being the last. "It's about time the two of you admitted to what we already knew!" shouted Blaise over the applause, grinning wildly. Draco and Harry looked around, hearing similar statements from everyone around them. Harry looked at Draco, Draco looked at Harry and they both burst out laughing, hugging each other. Even though some of Voldemort's most loyal followers were still at large, at least, for the two of them anyway, they had each other to help them through the dark times.
~fin~
|
10080758
|
Podfic so you think that
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings",
"Category": "F/M",
"Characters": "Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Stiles Stilinski, Bobby Finstock, Scott McCall, Chris Argent, Lydia Martin",
"Fandom": "Teen Wolf (TV)",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences",
"author": "by kalakirya",
"chapters": "1/1",
"completed": "",
"published": "2017-03-04T00:00:00",
"words": "54",
"Additional Tags": "Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Canon",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Scott McCall",
"Series": null,
"Collections": null,
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": null,
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Title: so you think (that being alone's the only way to be)Rating: teen and upContent Notes: creator chose not to use archive warningsLength: 1:00:27Music: Cold War (Janelle Monae) mp3: direct link (left-click to download, right-click to stream) (55MB)podbook: direct link (left-click to download) (43MB)cover by me!
|
10093712
|
The Redemption of Seamus
|
{
"Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence",
"Category": null,
"Characters": "Dean Thomas, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Other(s), Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, Arthur Weasley, Oliver Wood, Original Character",
"Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling",
"Language": "English",
"Rating": "Explicit",
"author": "by neddiheht",
"chapters": "31/31",
"completed": "2013-03-17",
"published": "2013-03-08T00:00:00",
"words": "62,181",
"Additional Tags": "Explicit Language, Heterosexual Sex, Slash sex, Drug Use, Mpreg, Sexual Content, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Drama, Romance",
"Relationship": null,
"Character": null,
"Relationships": "Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley/Other(s)",
"Series": null,
"Collections": "HPFandom",
"Fandoms": null,
"Archive Warnings": null,
"Categories": "M/M, F/M",
"Bookmarks": null,
"Chapters": null,
"Comments": null,
"Completed": null,
"Hits": null,
"Kudos": null,
"Published": null,
"Words": null,
"Updated": null
}
|
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus Finnigan groaned as the force of too much liquor and too many drugs and the combination of the two overwhelmed him. He'd slept fitfully, bits and pieces of a memory flitting through his alcohol soaked subconscious and refusing to stay put. He opened his eyes and immediately regretted it as the room spun and his stomach rebelled. He managed to get his head over the side of the bed and found it held as he retched into a metal bucket. He was trembling by the time he was through and managed to catch sight of the brilliant orange and red of the man's hair."Ron," he whispered.The only reply was a grunt, followed by a heavy handed flick of a wand and a spell that sent the contents of the bucket, and the accompanying stench of bile, elsewhere. Ronald Weasley set the bucket down gently on the ground and helped the sandy haired man back onto the bed. "Bleedin' hell," said Seamus, "what happened last night?""Don't ask questions," said Ron, wiping Seamus forehead with a cool damp cloth and setting it aside. "Just rest, okay.""Ron," a hand grasped Ron's wrist as he stood. "What happened? Where am I?""Quarantine, in the Hogwarts hospital wing," said Ron softly. "Rest. I'll be back later.""What happened?""I... I don't know how much I'm allowed to say, Shay," he said, stroking the fingers against his wrist. "I... I need to get back to 'Mione..."Seamus shuddered and let go Ron's wrist as the image of an Unspeakable filled his memory. Dark and terrifying, wand pointed at him. "She's Unspeakable..." mumbled Seamus, his face a mask of terror, "Unspeakable!"Ron squeezed his eyes shut and sat back down, grasping Seamus' hand between his own. "I'm. I'll stay," said Ron, "just for a little while."A little while quickly became hours as Ron held potion vials against his lips and coaxed him to drink them, one after another. "You," Seamus looked at him, "you never said why you were here.""Let's just get you well, okay?" said Ron, his gaze avoiding Seamus. "You had a lot of alcohol in your system, but there was..."Seamus gulped. "I know.""Will you be okay alone for a little while?" asked Ron. "I need to get back to 'Mione.""She's an Unspeakable, isn't she?""Why?""What did she do to me, sweet?""Don't call me that," said Ron harshly, standing up."But...""Don't," said Ron, brushing his long fiery locks from his face. "Just don't. You lost that right a long time ago.""You're never going to forgive me for..."Ron turned and glared down at him. "No. No, I'm not." Ron walked to the door and muttered something under his breath. There was a click and then it opened. Ron glanced back at him one more time. "Get some rest, Shay. I'll check on you a little later." He closed the door then, leaving Seamus alone.Seamus closed his eyes. There was something... something about a carriage. And him tied down, with Ron squatting next to him. Fire on his lips from a kiss. It'd been a long time since a kiss affected him that way. What was he missing? He slammed his head backwards into the pillows in frustration. The hangover and nausea had passed, but he still... Ron was right he'd been on more than just alcohol. For a long time more. He slammed his hand hard into the mattress beneath him. Fuck, why couldn't he remember?It was dusk when the withdrawal pains hit. Covered in sweat, he lay in bed screaming his pain hopelessly for what felt like hours. That was how Ron found him when he returned, covered in pink blood-tinged sweat, screaming. Ron gazed at him with a cross between sorrow and adoration and loss. He nodded sadly and left again, and Seamus cursed Ron's name in his screams as he writhed on the bed.It was dark and the rooms lit by candlelight when Ron returned. Seamus had stopped screaming, but only because the school mediwitch, Madam Pomfrey, had wrapped a protective spell around his vocal cords to keep him from damaging himself from the screams. His body was covered with pink-tinged sweat mingled with blood. He'd passed out at some point and woke to find himself tied down with great leather restraints to the frame of the bed. He glared hatefully at Ron. "Why?" he asked, silently, trying to form the words and hoping Ron at least would understand.Ron walked over to the bed and sat down, pulling a number of potion bottles out of his pockets. "I've checked," he said quietly, "that you can take these. They're not part of the usual course of treatment. You've... I know Pomfrey explained some of it..."Had she? He'd been rather preoccupied with screaming."These will help. Mayer promises they will, and he's... well, Harry trusts him, and that's good enough for me," said Ron.Mayer. Oh, fuck. Gorgeous, tall, built Mayer. He'd been a Death Eater. Seamus glared suspiciously at the vials and shook his head."I know, he was one of them," said Ron. "Frankly, I'm more comfortable near him at the moment than you."Seamus looked at him and hoped the pain of that statement was clear."If you..." Ron shook his head. "Just drink them, okay?" He held the first against Seamus lips and the young man glared as he swallowed. The potion was disgusting but cool and soothing at the same time. He could literally feel the swell of his throat reducing. He looked at Ron and tugged at the restraints enough to shake the bed. "Sorry, Shay, I can't. Pomfrey's orders. I know better than to...""P-p-please," croaked Seamus through the spell.Ron reached for the night stand and wrung out a cloth, wiping first Seamus' face and then the pink film from his body before dipping it back into the bowl of water by the bed. He sighed and whispered *Finite* with a flick of his wand to remove the spell keeping the man from speaking. "Should be okay now that you've had the potion," said Ron."What about...""No," said Ron, his voice very firm."Why not?""We have more potions for you...""What are you giving me, Ron?" asked Seamus. "And why am I here?""There's a lot. I'm not allowed to say a lot, Shay. I'm sorry, but I'm not." Ron set a hand on the man's forehead, stroking the side of his face. "Just drink the potions, please," said Ron. "I can't stay. I have. The Cannons have a game tomorrow and the other players are already upset that I missed the strategy session yesterday."Ron missing a strategy session... that would never happen. "What was yesterday," asked Seamus."Harry's bonding," said Ron. "It'll... that part at least, it'll come back to you.""What do you mean that part?" croaked Seamus. Even with the potion his throat was raw from screaming."I... I'm still not sure what I'm allowed to say.""Sweet, please?" pleaded Seamus."I told you," said Ron, shaking his head as he choked back a soft sob, "don't call me that."Seamus glared at him, but allowed Ron to feed him another potion, and then another. Ron squeezed out the cloth again and wiped his forehead. "I'm sorry. I'll. I'll stop by again tomorrow after the game, okay?""You'd never miss an after game party," said Seamus.Ron sighed. "I will tomorrow. Get some rest, okay. I know everything is confusing right now.""Can't you stay?""I have a wife now, Shay."Seamus bit his tongue, keeping himself, barely, from responding to that. "I... I understand. Tomorrow then?"Soft lips pressed against his forehead, and then Ron was gone, the door shut behind him with an ominous click.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus woke to find the restraints still holding him down. They'd let him up at some point during the night to use the loo, but since he'd remained strapped down. He probably hadn't helped things with his mad rush to escape. Couldn't they understand? His body was on fire... he needed... he NEEDED. Didn't they get that?They'd silenced him and tied him down and fed him more potions. Without a wand he didn't stand a chance against the charms mastery of the diminutive Professor Flitwick, who had him neatly strapped down and silenced with only a few deft flicks of his wand and a word. He'd strained against the bonds and screamed silently, hopelessly against the injustice of it. There were more potions and then sleep.Eventually his struggles led to sleep again. Every so often he'd wake in a haze of semi-sleep to words. Snippets of incomplete conversation. He couldn't be sure, with his sleep plagued by similarly incomplete snippets of dreams that he could swear meant something, just what was real and what was not. "He's not responding to the usual course," said Pomfrey, her voice persistent, waking him quickly. Too many times in the hospital wing during seventh year had made him responsive to that voice.There was a soft groan. "I'll come up with something.""You're reluctant Professor Mayer.""Not so reluctant that I won't be able to treat him," said the other voice. Dimly Seamus recognized the voice as Noah Mayer, the school's new potions master."I trust you to be professional, Professor," said Pomfrey, her voice tinged with an anger that he knew to be unusual for her. "I know this case is particularly difficult.""It wasn't just him. It was how it affected everyone else. Neville is crushed. Luciano is torn apart watching, and Ron...""I know," said Pomfrey, her voice very cold. "He's still our patient, Noah.""It would help if we knew just exactly what he'd been on. Was he able to say? Did Hermione say anything?" asked Noah."No. She just said to expect the usual reaction from obliviation and dumped him. I've never seen Hermione so cold before in my life," said Pomfrey. "It was positively unnatural."The voices faded after a few moments, moving away, and there was the now familiar muffled words and the click of the door. Then steps coming close to him. "How much did you hear?"Seamus tried to remain positively still."All of it then?" Mayer sighed. "Can you tell me what you were taking?""Wasn't anything...""Alcohol, ecstasy, crystal meth," said Noah. "Those are just the Muggle drugs still in your system. What were the potions?""Unspeakable!" whispered Seamus hopelessly."You're rather lucky I already knew that," said Noah. "You'll find what your brain does to you if you try telling someone who doesn't rather unpleasant.""Why?" said Seamus, allowing his eyes to open. The sight of Mayer's eyes had his mind flashing to half forgotten scenes from the night before. Mayer in a waistcoat, only that, the marks of a claim along the line of his throat. "What did I...""The memories will sort themselves out," said Noah, "but it will take time.""Can't you tell me?""No," said Noah. "You're resistant to the normal course of treatment. Probably because of the combination of drugs you were taking. These," he set several vials on the bedside table, "are detoxification potions. I did not wish to use these... it is too easy for it to feel like retaliation for your..." Noah paused. "It's not going to be pleasant Mister Finnigan.""Will you be here?""No. Your actions have caused my promised a great deal of distress. My place is giving him comfort." Noah looked at him. "Madam Pomfrey will monitor you and call me if I'm needed. But no one will keep you company or comfort you. Not after..."Seamus just glared. "No one will even tell me..."Noah shook his head. "This is going to be painful for you, Mister Finnigan, but we might as well start now, before the blood sweat starts again." Seamus felt the contents go down his throat, the soft caress of wood at his throat as whispered spells compelled him to swallow. Then there was a tightening of straps and another whispered spell to silence him, and Mayer was gone.It was midday before anyone other than Pomfrey came in to witness the horror of detoxification. His screams were still silenced, but the straps holding him down had bitten deeply into his flesh, and his body was slick again with the blood sweat. He was weeping between screams. He didn't even notice the man enter, dressed in proper teaching robes, blue eyes staring at him. A familiar face, a Gryffindor face. Neville. The young herbologist stood at the foot of the bed, watching Seamus writhing in agony. He had that look in his eyes. The one he got when the Carrows were torturing first years and Neville was all that stood in their way. The look that Seamus knew meant that Neville was capable of anything. He'd never really seen Neville look quite so lost before.Neville pulled his wand and kept it pointed at Seamus for a long time. He was mouthing words. Dangerous words. Unforgivable words. There was a coldness in his gaze that told Seamus he meant the words. It was almost a relief. If Neville would just use the curse, it would be over. This pain, the fire in his veins, the sense of emptiness and loss. Please Neville... mean it, say it.Neville's face was a grimace of rage and fury, the force of anger in it palpable. Seamus sighed and smiled. It would be over soon. But no *Avada Kedavra* was forthcoming. No *Crucio* to light a different fire in his skin. He was left with a parting scowl and a choked sob to the sound of a click and the impotent silence of his own screams.Finally his body gave out and he collapsed again in sleep, laying in his own filth. He was aware that Pomfrey had cast the requisite cleaning spell, but it wasn't the same as a proper wash. In his exhaustion he could not bring himself to care, falling into dreams of hooded figures and wands and tables full of the silver strands of memory. Somewhere there was a memory he'd lost... taken by a towering figure in cowled robes, piercing eyes staring at him as they said the word *Obliviate*."Ron, you can't do this to yourself," said the voice. The same voice, he realized."I promised.""Ronald Weasley. After what that man did, I don't care what you promised!""I know," said Ron. "'Mione, I know. But... he doesn't have anyone.""Why do you care? After what he did to Oliver. To Neville. After what...""Don't, 'Mione," said Ron. "Please. I need...""It's not good for you," said Hermione, in that resigned know-it-all voice she used when she knew someone had already made up their mind not to do what she said."Maybe you're right. But I need to..." Seamus felt calloused hands stroking his face."Fine. I'm catching the train from Hogsmeade tonight. Harry said I could stay at Grimmauld Place until the baby is due. Should I expect you?"There was a grunt and the rustling of cloth. "I love you 'Mione. This doesn't change that, you know that right?"There was a little bit of a sob. "It doesn't, 'Mione. I mean it.""I just. He gave you something I can't.""You would have cared. He didn't. Don't think I don't know that," said Ron. There was more rustled cloth and then the soft smack of lips meeting. "I'll be home tonight. McGonagall opened the Floo so I can get home, and I can get to Grimmauld easily enough from there. Be careful for me.""I love you, you great oaf," said Hermione. Seamus could hear her fist hitting against his chest with a thud."I know. I just. I have to do this," said Ron. There was another soft smack of lips against flesh, softer this time, briefer. A kiss on the forehead? Then there were steps and murmurs and a click and she was gone."I know you heard that," said Ron."How did you know," said Seamus, opening his eyes."Your fingers twitch on your left hand when you're actually asleep.""And just how do you know that?" asked Seamus."Used to spend a lot of time watching you, a long time ago," said Ron. "You look bloody awful."Seamus chuckled. "Should have seen me earlier.""It was worse?""I look fantastic.""You always looked fantastic," said Ron, his voice suddenly very soft. He turned away for a moment and when he looked back at Seamus his expression was a bit more schooled. "You smell rather bad."Seamus looked at him. "You think?""I do.""I've been strapped down all day. I've soiled myself half a dozen times, and the spells don't really get rid of that, you know," said Seamus. "I don't suppose I'll be getting out of here soon?""Not very soon," said Ron, "no.""Why not?""Because," said Ron, "if we let you go now, you'll be shooting up again," he ran fingers over badly hidden track marks where the glamours had failed. "And Mayer says you haven't detoxed fully yet.""So I'm stuck here in my own filth?"Ron shook his head and lifted his wand, speaking a word that released the straps. Then Seamus was being lifted and carried. "Ron... your robes...""I know how to spell them clean," said Ron, slipping through a back doorway into a small bathroom. Then Ron's calloused hands were on him again, stripping his clothes off. Ron dropped them in a pile and called for a house elf to take them and wash them, then he dropped his own on the floor. Seamus eyed the wand and looked at Ron."Don't even think it, Shay," said Ron."You're naked. With me.""Yeah, and you're filthy. That was never my thing. Get in," Ron said, with a quick gesture towards the shower.The water was warm, almost too warm, and Ron's hands were... fantastic, even with the flannel in between. Seamus found himself quickly lathered up, even in the private areas he had expected Ron to skip."Won't your wife be jealous?""She knows I wouldn't cheat," said Ron, as he continued to soap them both thoroughly."I... I've missed your hands," said Seamus rather softly and without any trace of his usual bravado.Soft lips pressed against his neck. "I've missed you too," said Ron. "But we can't.""You used to let me...""We both know how that ended," said Ron, his voice suddenly harsh.Seamus turned and faced him, stepping right up against him, a finger running down his chest. "I could..."Ron's hand closed over his, stopping Seamus' finger in its track. "It's too late for that, little firecracker.""Sweet..."Ron shook his head."Why then?""Because everyone else is too busy hating you," said Ron. "And you need help."Seamus rested his head against Ron's chest, letting the water pour over them. He half expected Ron to push him away, but instead he felt arms wrapping around him and holding him. "I thought you said...""Shh," said Ron, pressing a kiss into sandy hair.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------"Well, he's getting better," said Pomfrey. "Your potions are doing a good job.""It's more Weasley's visits than my potions.""You're worried he'll return to...""When Ron returns home," said Noah. "Yes, that's my fear.""You don't think they're doing anything inappropriate?" asked Pomfrey.Noah shook his head. "Wouldn't be surprised if they're skirting that line fairly close, though.""Should I...""Leave it," said Mayer. "'Hermione isn't worried and she's not one to be deluded about such things.""I'm concerned about the patient too," said Madam Pomfrey. "Ron is his only emotional support. So far he's been rather sheltered from everyone's true feelings. He still doesn't remember or even know what he did.""Poppy, I'm not at all sure he even knew what he was doing when he was doing it. When he approached me on the dance floor, he was... not really himself.""It doesn't excuse...""No," said Noah, "it doesn't. There's a reason none of his friends are supporting him. What he did was...""What did I do?" whispered Seamus, opening his eyes. "Why won't anyone tell me?"Noah sat next to him. "It's not our place to say.""Someone is going to have to tell me sometime.""Yes, they will," said Noah, "but not just yet, I think.""Is it still necessary to have me strapped down?"Noah looked at Pomfrey, who nodded but deftly pointed her wand at the door, whispering spells."We'll allow Ron to release the straps tonight, officially.""We," Seamus paused. "We haven't done anything.""Oddly enough, I trust Ronald not to step over the line, though I expect you are both skirting it rather more closely than is comfortable for Hermione. And you don't want that particular witch angry with you," said Noah. "Trust me.""She's already..." Seamus pulled against the straps. "You're really going to let him take these off?""You can't leave the room. You still have two more days to finish the detox cycle. But, Seamus, it's an addiction. We're both concerned," said Noah, gesturing to include Madam Pomfrey, "that you'll relapse. Especially once...""I know he's not going to stay," said Seamus. "Don't think I don't know it.""And will you relapse?" asked Noah."Probably.""Well, you're being honest," said Pomfrey. "It's an improvement.""Is it?" asked Seamus dryly."It is," said Noah. "You've denied the likelihood all the other times we've asked."Seamus glowered at both of them, but reluctantly settled down enough to take his potions. It had become a familiar ritual. Pomfrey and Noah assessing him each morning and feeding him potions. Around lunch time, Neville would come, point his wand, shake with fury, and eventually lower it and leave without saying a word. Even Harry, who could normally be trusted to visit any of his friends in the Hospital Wing, had not stepped foot in the ward. Nor had there been any visits from Hermione since the first one. But Ron arrived every evening (though some evenings later than others) to sit with him. Every evening, without fail.Seamus lay back and stared at the ceiling, still fighting the straps at his wrists. His arms would be raw but for Pomfrey's constant healing. Eventually the room darkened, and after a time someone, house elves most likely, set the room aglow in candlelight."Hi.""Sweet!""I've told you," said Ron, "stop calling me that.""I'm sorry.""No, you're not," said Ron."So, what are we talking about tonight?""I think you know," said Ron.Seamus closed his eyes. "All serious subjects then?"A hand closed against his arm. "Yeah.""I thought they weren't going to tell me yet," said Seamus."They aren't. I am.""Why?" asked Seamus."Firecracker," said Ron softly, running a hand down along his face, "we've needed to have this...""I don't want to talk about that.""You didn't want to then, either," said Ron. "But we need to.""I just. It won't help anything, Ron.""Please.""Oh, my sweet. You know I...""I've told you not to call me that," said Ron, standing and walking away."And yet you call me firecracker.""Did you want me to stop?" asked Ron."No. But I... you were my sweet for a long time.""Not so long.""We were fourteen, sweet," said Seamus. "It didn't need to be long to make an impression.""It did that.""I loved you," said Seamus. "I wouldn't have." He turned away, unable to look at Ron. "I'd never have lied to you about that.""I know. I sorta figured it out when you never slept with anyone else more than once.""You ruined me for anyone else, sweet.""Afraid you'd feel this for someone else?" asked Ron."A bit, maybe," said Seamus."Then why did you run?" asked Ron, his hand lacing with Seamus', squeezing."You were meant for Hermione, sweet. You always were," said Seamus. "I was in love with you and I knew I'd never be able to keep you.""You could have," said Ron. "I was in love with you. I... I was pregnant with your son, Seamus. I would have given you a son." Tears began to flow freely down Ron's cheeks."It was a boy?" said Seamus, his voice cracking. "I. I didn't know.""You knew I was pregnant," said Ron suddenly harsh. "You knew the baby was yours!""Ron, I'm half-blood. I didn't even know you could get pregnant. And you didn't really know either, not then. Don't pretend you did, I know better."Ron shook his head. "No, you're right. I didn't really know. Not then. But when I... I found out. I found out in time. And you...""I was stupid, okay?" said Seamus. "You think I don't know I messed up? You think it doesn't torture me every day knowing I could have had you? That. I was fourteen, sweetness. I didn't know you could get pregnant. You told me and I was scared. An army of Weasleys was going to kill me. Starting with your two older brothers who were quite capable of tormenting adults even then. I wouldn't have...""You were scared.""Terrified," said Seamus. "And I reacted badly.""You dumped me!""If you'd loved me you would have kept the baby!" shouted Seamus. "By the time I came to my senses you'd already abor...""I fucking miscarried!"Seamus mouth formed an 'O' but no sound came out. After a few moments he sputtered and managed to whimper, "Miscarried?" as tears began to run down his cheeks."You thought I...""You were so angry, sweet.""I would never. I wouldn't have done that," said Ron."Why didn't you tell me?" asked Seamus."I tried. You didn't want to listen.""Fuck. You went to Neville. I was so jealous. I thought you were...""With Neville?" asked Ron."He's so gorgeous when he's all sweaty from digging..."It was true. "He helped me deal with it, that's all.""I take it Hermione knows." said Seamus."She does now. She didn't until... well, until this.""You kept that from her?" asked Seamus. "Why?""It was my private hell. I didn't even tell Harry.""But you told Neville," said Seamus, confused."Neville's pure blood. He knew about wizard pregnancies. Didn't know then that half-bloods could...""They can't.""Tell that to Harry. He's carrying twins."The memory came to him in a flash, Harry, kneeling and holding Teddy against him as he made vows to Draco. Harry speaking of twin sons. Gasps from the hall."He got pregnant with Malfoy," whispered Seamus.Ron nodded. "Pomfrey says half-blood pregnancies are even more common than pure blood, but that the tendency for wizards to miscarry," Ron choked on the term, "means that most lose the baby so early that they just think they've had a stomach bug as their body reabsorbs the baby's body."Seamus looked away. "I thought you killed our baby, sweet. I thought you'd left me behind and then you reconciled with Hermione and it was like we'd never been.""You made our relationship a joke. Something to hold over me.""I was angry. I do stupid things when I'm angry," said Seamus. "Including whatever the bleedin' fuck I did to get stuck strapped down in here." He strained again against the restraints."You raped Oliver Wood."Seamus began to tremble. "No.""You did.""I couldn't," said Seamus. "I... I'd never. Please, Ron, I wouldn't do that!""Right now," said Ron looking right into his eyes, "this Seamus, my firecracker, no, of course you wouldn't. But Seamus... you were drunk and drugged off your arse on... Shay, there isn't any doubt, we literally pulled you off of him."Seamus closed his eyes and looked away. "I'm going to Azkaban, then.""No," said Ron, "but there are consequences, Shay.""Sweet?""You are not permitted to remember the act. It's not the drugs that are messing with your memory of that night.""Hermione.""Yes. She took the memory from you. The spell reacted badly to the drugs you were taking, which is how you got here for us to find out how much... when did you resort to drugs, Shay?"Seamus ignored the question. "That's not all she did, is it?""No. She cast a curse on you. You... until you find someone whom you love, and who loves you back, you won't be able to... well, you know. Without a lot of pain.""She used the curse of the faithless legionnaire on me.""You actually listened to something Binns said?" asked Ron incredulously."I deserved worse," said Seamus, tears flowing again. "No wonder Neville looks like he wants to kill me."Seamus was quiet for a few minutes, allowing himself to cry before he asked "What else?""You can only talk about it with the people who were there. Neville and Wood. Hermione and me. Grimaldi, Mayer. That's it, no one else.""But everyone hates me?""I don't hate you, Shay.""But everyone else does.""You said things, Shay. To hurt. To wound. To people who hold grudges. You acted like a pig all night, trying to get Mayer in bed, trying to get Oliver in bed. Then when he wouldn't go with you... you drugged him. Made him think you were Neville.""So they all hate me," said Seamus. "Just why are you still here?""I couldn't bring myself to believe you'd do that if you were in your right mind," Ron looked at the still incompletely healed track marks along Seamus' arms. "Do you?""Drugs aren't an excuse, sweet. They can't be.""That doesn't mean you can't find redemption," said Ron, "if you really wanted to.""Will you help me?" asked Seamus hopefully."I can't promise that.""I. I feel dirty."Ron waved his wand and released the straps, standing to lift Seamus into his arms again. "Let's get you washed, then," said Ron."I wish I'd never left you," said Seamus softly."Some mistakes can't be undone," said Ron very quietly. "And I'm afraid that's one of them. For both of us.""But I...""Shh. I could have made you listen. I could have tried to understand. I could have gone to Pomfrey earlier." Ron looked away. "You shouldn't have left me alone like that. But I let you do it. I didn't fight for you, for us.""Does she... does she love you, sweet?""Very much," said Ron. "More than I ever imagined anyone could."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------It was his last day of detox. He'd be a free man. Somehow that fact did not cheer Seamus at all."Come on, Shay, you get out of here today," said Ron. "That's something, at least, isn't it.""Just means I have to face..."Fingers slid into his. "Shay, please.""I'll be alone."Ron grunted and looked away. "We should get you cleaned up.""Been able to myself since..." Seamus looked at him meaningfully, "wait. You want to..."Ron lifted him from the bed as he had so many times the past weeks and carried him into the loo. Seamus felt calloused hands on his body as his clothes were stripped off, such strong hands. Then there was water, too hot, and flannels with soap rubbing against his skin lathering him. There was a gentleness in the touch and an old hesitancy of dwelling in the forbidden.The flannel was passed to him and Ron turned to face the water. "Wash my back for me, firecracker?" he asked. The words came out as little more than a croak. "That... it's not a good idea," said Seamus."I. I know."Seamus took the flannel and washed his back, spraying his back clean of the lather before moving to the areas he hadn't touched in years. Seamus dipped the lathered flannel into the crease of Ron's arse, lathering him up before setting the flannel aside and clinging against Ron's back, his head resting against Ron's shoulders, their bodies pressed together, Seamus' cock nestled in the crack of Ron's arse. Seamus was trembling, and Ron's soft shaking was just as evident."Sweetness, we..." Seamus felt the gentle movement of Ron's hips, the shifting that meant his cock was THERE. "Sweet?"Ron leaned his back into Seamus' chest, hands closing over Seamus' to press handprints into Ron's chest. "I... I've missed you." Ron pressed backward and there was pressure as his movements pushed Seamus into entering him, only just. White fire flared behind his eyes and he moaned and sobbed at the same time. He'd been so empty and Seamus was... Oh fuck."We shouldn't." Words spoken softly against the wet flesh of his back."Oh 'Mione." Ron was crying."We should stop." Hands reached back holding Seamus in place as Ron slid back into him. "Fuck, Shay... Oh fuck..."Seamus screwed his eyes shut and thrust softly. "You want me to stop?" Ron's hands reached for his, pulling them close, wrapping them around him so that he was held, so that Seamus couldn't let him go. "I..." Ron choked out another sob and shook his head. "No."The arms around him squeezed, Seamus resting his head against Ron's back, kissing him softly. Then Seamus was pulling away, pulling out. Fuck he was so empty, so..."We. We can't, sweet.""I... I want you to, please Shay.""I know," said Seamus, kissing his back before turning him around so they faced each other. Seamus set a hand on his chest. "But you need me to stop. Before we... before we do something you'd never forgive yourself for, sweetness. That you'd never forgive me for. If... if we haven't already." He slid the hand from Ron's chest around his body and rested his head against the pale freckled flesh.Ron's arms wrapped around him, one clutching his head against Ron's chest, the other around his waist, pulling them intimately close. "I...""You were going to free me from the curse."Ron swallowed. "Am I that transparent?""Only sometimes, sweetness," mumbled Seamus into Ron's chest. "Only sometimes.""I could have...""Yes," said Seamus, "but you didn't. You stopped. That's what you need to remember, sweet. You stopped.""I didn't. I... I asked you to keep..."A finger pressed against his lips. "You stopped."They stood there under the spray of the water until their skin wrinkled, just holding each other. "I have to go back to her. You understand that, right?"Seamus didn't answer for a moment, just holding him. Then he whispered. "I know. I lost you a long time ago. I need to make peace with that."Ron's head leaned into his as the tears flowed and joined the spray of the water on Seamus' skin. "Fuck. I don't want to let go, Shay. Please don't make me let go.""We have to let go, sweet. Both of us."Seamus slid away from him and it was all Ron could manage not to squeeze hold of him and never let go. Seamus looked into the red rimmed eyes. He reached up and stroked Ron's cheek with the back of his fingers, and then he stepped backwards out of the shower, dried off, and was gone.Ron stood under the hot spray of the shower for a long time, letting the spray hit him, trying to both remember and forget. Finally he stepped out and toweled off. But when he returned to the room, Seamus was gone. "Skirting the line pretty close, aren't you?" asked a deep baritone from the shadows behind him."Mayer.""That's not an answer," said the potions master."Why does it matter to you?" asked Ron."She's my friend.""I stopped," the lie flowed from his lips too easily."She loves you," said Mayer. "She's carrying your child.""I know," said Ron, looking down. "I stopped."Noah stepped close to him and tipped his head up. "Nothing happened... this time. What about next time?""I can't abandon him. He doesn't have anyone.""Then be his friend, if you must," said Mayer. "But this... this skirting the line. You've gone over. Even if you pulled yourself back, you've gone over. It can't happen again.""I know," said Ron, the admission painful coming out of his lips."Do you?""Don't start with me, Mayer," said Ron, his eyes suddenly intense. "I stopped.""You still love him, don't you?""I never stopped," said Ron softly, "I don't think I could if I wanted to.""Does Hermione know?" asked Noah."Knowing and understanding are two different things," said Ron, self-consciously adjusting his robes. "Hermione has always been better at knowing.""He's gone. Whisper quiet, just packed his kit and left.""Do you think he'll be okay?" asked Ron."You should be concerned with...""Dammit, Mayer!""His lifestyle choices will throw temptation his way quickly," said Noah, "and he has nothing in his life to keep him from giving in. He'll relapse." "I hoped. He's clean, Noah, why would he?""His friends hate him, even the ones who don't know the details. No one will blame Wood or Neville, the blame will go to Seamus, and he'll be ostracized. He'll be at a party and realize the young woman or man on his arm can't satisfy his needs without the curse kicking in. He'll remember he lost you. And he'll take a little bit, just to forget for a moment." Noah sighed. "After that, it's just a matter of time."Ron covered his face in his hands. "I can't... I can't let that happen."Noah shook his head. "There's nothing you can do to stop it. He's not weak, he just... he broke, a long time ago, and the drugs and sex were his coping mechanism. Hermione took away the sex, which means his only way to cope is...""I can't let that happen, Mayer. I can't.""It will," said Noah. "There is no stopping it. You cannot watch him every moment of every day."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------The pain had been excruciating. His date for the evening hadn't noticed. As they lay together she'd filled herself with the same chemicals he'd so often indulged in himself... drugs that enhanced her pleasure, that made her scream. No doubt she thought he'd indulged too. He looked at the nubile woman still writhing painfully against his cock and screamed in pain again. Hermione was right. He'd go chaste and pure and sexless before he'd ever let himself feel this pain again.He washed for three hours after, trying to get the stink of sex off his body. It was intoxicating to him, it'd always been. But it just made him want it, he wanted, all the time he wanted it. He left the shower and walked to the bed to collect his clothes, his eyes straying to look longingly at the chemicals sitting on the bedside table. Fuck. He closed his eyes, *Accio*-ed his wand, and disappeared with a crack, leaving his clothes behind."Fuck, Seamus!" said George Weasley grabbing a throw pillow and transfiguring it quickly into a blanket to cover him with. "What the hell?""F-f-find sweet. Please," said Seamus, his voice a strangled cry."I've got a store full of sweets downstairs, Seamus, but I...""Ron, need Ron! Please!""Who is that?" came Angelina's voice from the next room. She stepped inside and her eyes grew very cold as she realized just who was on the floor. "Get that off our floor and out of our flat," said Angelina."He's hurt!""Fine, drop him in the lobby of St. Mungo's. But I don't want him here, the fucking slag. Oliver won't say what happened, but..."Seamus collapsed crying on the floor, only barely covered with the barely adequate pillow-blanket.George sighed. "Calm down, love. I'll be back in a tick, and he'll be gone." He stepped over and gave her a blistering hot kiss. "It'll be fine, yeah."Then he lifted Seamus up and Disapparated with a crack.Naked Quidditch players were busily horsing around in the locker room. George smiled, just a hint at the corner of his mouth. He'd missed this since Hogwarts. He glanced around for the familiar paste white freckled chest, and spotting it shouted out, "Oi! Ronald!"Ron spun, towel barely slung over his waist. "George?" He glanced at the limp form in George's arms. "Fuck no, Shay!""This is yours, I think," said George, setting him on the bench. "Lucky he arrived after the game, eh?"Ron nodded mutely. "Couldn't he...""My wife was friends with Oliver, Ron. She won't..." George sighed. "Sorry, you little git, but I value my spot in her bed.""I value my spot in 'Mione's bed too!" said Ron, kneeling next to Seamus. "Fuck." He stroked sandy hair away from the young man's face. He looked up at George. "Can you watch him just until I'm dressed, and I'll take him... I'll think of something. Just... please?"George nodded and Ron disappeared briefly, returning to a far less crowded locker room minutes later in a loose jersey and trousers holding his wand. "George," he said, grabbing hold of his brother's wrist. "Thanks.""You've got it bad, mate. And with a wife at home, too.""Nothing's going on.""I'm your brother, Ron. I haven't seen you like this since your fourth year." Ron could see the lightbulb in his head light up. "Fuck, this is him, isn't it. Your experiment, left you preg..."Ron slammed George against the lockers and covered his mouth. "Quiet!"He cast a hasty *Muffliato* and then very hesitantly he lifted his hand away from George's mouth. "So it is..."Ron nodded."And he came to you?""I love him.""Fuck, Ron, what about 'Mione.""Nothing's going on. I meant it.""I believe you," said George carefully and quietly, "but I also find it suspicious when naked men are appearing in my living room and asking for you."Ron leaned against his brother for a moment and then looked up. "Is anyone at Shell Cottage since Bill and Fleur moved to France?""Ron, that's not a good...""Is there?"George shook his head."Don't tell anyone, yeah," said Ron."It's not a good...""I know.""Hermione loves you," said George."I know. I'm not cheating, George, I'm not.""If you say so. I hope for your sake... I wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of Hermione's wand. She's...""I know what she is. She could rip the flesh off my body and kill me in a thousand different ways without resorting to anything technically illegal. She's incredibly formidable and smart, and I love her for it," said Ron. "I'm not cheating, George.""Good," said George with a wink, "'cause she'd know if you were. Take care of him, yeah. He's the best fireworks expert there is."There was a crack and George was gone. Ron turned to find Seamus huddled against the lockers shaking, a barely adequate blanket that still bore traces of the pillow it had started its life as wrapped awkwardly around his waist."Oh, Shay..." said Ron, looking down at him softly, his eyes full of love."I'm making you miss another after-party, aren't I?" snuffled Seamus. Ron helped him up from the floor. He glanced quickly around to be sure noone was still in the locker room and kissed Seamus on the forehead. "My firecracker," he mused quietly, "what am I going to do with you?" He held the blanket-clad man close against him and Disapparated.Shell Cottage was rustic, but clean. Winky, Dobby the house elf's lone companion in freedom as an elf at Hogwarts, had taken it upon herself on her enforced days off to clean the place from top to bottom, and so it was rather pleasantly and surprisingly ready for occupants when the crack of apparition announced Ron's arrival with Seamus.Ron took Seamus' wand from him and pocketed it. Seamus sighed, looking longingly at it, but nodded as Ron put a kettle on and then went upstairs to find clothes. The clothes he found would be loose on Seamus, but they should fit him well enough and he carried them hastily down the stairs and offered them silently to him. Seamus dressed quickly and then sat, silently, until Ron set a saucer and cup of tea in front of him, sitting opposite him."I had sex today," said Seamus quietly."Someone special?" asked Ron, looking him in the eye. The familiar stirrings of jealousy were nothing new."No.""First time since..."Seamus nodded."Why?" asked Ron softly. "Why would you ever give that to...""You bloody well know I gave it to anyone and everyone I could after..."Ron did know. He probably knew more of the names than Seamus. He doubted Seamus kept track, but Ron always had. "Why?""I... I needed it. Don't you understand? I needed to...""Hermione knows her curses."Seamus choked out a sob."Are you okay?""Afterwards I realized I would never be able to put myself through that again. And she'd. She'd taken a lot of drugs. And she'd left them...""You didn't take anything?" asked Ron, his eyes going automatically to Seamus' arms, looking for signs of new needle markings.Seamus shook his head. "I didn't. I swear I didn't, Ron." He was shaking. "But I saw them there and I wanted... I needed so badly. I summoned my wand and fled.""Fuck, Shay, George married Angelina," said Ron. "She and Oliver were..."Seamus swallowed. "I sorta figured from the reaction that it was a one time escape.""Shay," said Ron, running a hand down the side of his face, "it's okay. You got out of there. You didn't slip. I could... I could wish you hadn't had sex, but you still. You got out of there before you did anything too stupid.""I'm going to have to have sex sometime, sweet."Ron looked down. "I still would, you know. To free you. I'd...""Stop," said Seamus. "You'd never forgive yourself.""It's been almost a month, Shay. Don't give up," Ron's voice shook. "Please, just don't give up.""Sex is the only time I feel close to anyone anymore, sweet. How am I supposed to live with...""Shh. Drink your tea.""Sweetness, tea is not going to solve my problems.""It'll relax you," said Ron. "That's a start.""Then what?""Then I'm going to hold you, my firecracker, for as long as it takes.""Hermione is going to kill me."Ron stood up and kissed the man's sandy hair. "I won't let that happen. Come to bed. And keep your clothes on."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------"Ronald Weasley!" said Hermione. "You can't just...""I'm sorry, 'Mione," said Ron, "but I'm not the only one with time poverty issues.""I understand that, but when I arrange a night off to spend with you, I rather expect that you won't be at Shell Cottage in bed with your ex!"Ron's face flushed. "I know.""Did you have sex with him?" she asked, her voice cold."No.""Did you want to?" asked Hermione."Are you trying to make us fight, 'Mione?""Just answer the question, Ronald."Ron closed his eyes. "Yes," he said softly.Her hand went to her mouth and she paled. "I... I didn't think you'd admit it."Ron sat down and buried his face in his hands, hunched over the Grimmauld Place kitchen table. "I'm sorry.""Oh, Ron," she said stepping behind him to set a hand on his shoulder. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you... if you were. I won't be made a second choice.""You aren't that, 'Mione. I love you," said Ron. "I do. He's hurt and he has no one. And I'm trying...""That requires you sleeping with him?""We wore clothes.""And if you hadn't been?""We wore clothes for a reason, 'Mione. I love him. I'm not made of iron.""Dammit, Ronald!"Ron ran his hands back through his hair. "He had sex, 'Mione. Not with me.""He didn't! The curse...""Yeah," said Ron, "The curse. It was the first time since... He almost turned back to drugs after. And he tried. He tried going elsewhere first. But he didn't know where else to go. He doesn't have anyone else, 'Mione.""You're my husband, Ron. We're having a baby, remember?""A daughter," said Ron, turning in the chair to set a hand against Hermione's stomach. "I'd never forget that, 'Mione." His look of adoration at her was almost enough for her to forgive him at once. Almost."You forgot that your wife was making you dinner. A late dinner to accommodate your after game party. And you still missed it. And not because of the party.""I should have sent my Patronus to tell you," said Ron. "I know.""Ron, just tell me... tell me what's going on in your head," said Hermione."George brought him to me because Angelina wouldn't let him stay. She was friends with Oliver, and she doesn't know what happened, but like everyone else, she's on Wood and Neville's side.""What he did...""I know what he did," said Ron. "But he would never have done it if he wasn't barmy on account of the drugs and the alcohol and the potions. And he's trying to recover and we cut his support network and his coping mechanisms out from under him.""He could go to a clinic or to rehab.""He could," said Ron, "but he won't.""You can't hold him together by yourself, Ron.""I'd never forgive myself if something happened to him," said Ron. "I'm just trying to give him a second chance. Dumbledore always believed in second chances."Hermione sighed. "I need to know you're committed to me, Ron. To this relationship. To our daughter."Ron stood up and hugged her tightly, kissing her gently on the lips. "I am."She leaned into his shoulder. "You're not going to give him up, are you?""I'm not going to give up on him," said Ron softly, "but I said goodbye to him a long time ago.""You were in bed with him...""Providing comfort to a lonely friend. Comfort, 'Mione, not sex.""If he had asked for sex?" asked Hermione."He made a terrible mistake, and he knows it. He's not going to ask.""So you would, if he asked," said Hermione, fighting back tears. It was a statement, not a question."Does it matter, since he won't?" asked Ron. "Don't answer that. I know it does." He sighed very deeply. "Shay means a lot to me, 'Mione. I love him. Like I love you.""How can you after...""'Mione, let me... please." Ron took a deep breath. "I love him. When he's near me, I get the way I get near you. I lose the plot and can't think and I want him close and... I get like that. Which is why we didn't take our clothes off. I gave him comfort and that was all.""He raped Oliver.""I know.""He left you alone and pregnant.""I know.""You were ready to hurt him that night, Ronald.""I'd just pulled him off of Oliver and seen the look in Neville's face. He looked the way I expect I did when Bellatrix had you at Malfoy Manor and I was trapped listening to you scream.""And you're okay with it now?""He agrees with you, you know," said Ron, "that he doesn't deserve to be forgiven.""And yet you're in bed with him. Clothes or not, Ron, that's..."Ron reached up to stroke Hermione's hair. "I love you. I chose you. I told him I had to come back to you. That I'd always have to.""And you're not having sex.""No. But you're right. I do want to."She leaned against him. "Please tell me you're not having second thoughts about us. About the baby.""I already told you that I'm committed to you and to our baby. I meant it.""But if he asked you to have sex..."Ron swallowed. "I don't know."Hermione closed her eyes. "I'm going to bed. I think tonight it's best you find a couch.""I'm not cheating, 'Mione," said Ron softly."I know. It's not forever. But tonight I need to be alone."Ron watched Hermione go. He wouldn't need a couch, he had a spare bedroom here, an escape from the world set aside by Harry when he'd first redone the house after the war. But he didn't want a spare room. He wanted a soft comfortable bed with a warm body snuggled against him. He closed his eyes and sighed. Just now he wasn't at all sure which warm body he'd prefer. Slowly he made his way up the staircase, stopping outside the door of the room he'd been sharing with Hermione. He stood there for a long time, almost surrendering to the urge to join Hermione anyway, before finally heading up another staircase to his own room. He stripped down and slid under the covers, wrapping blankets around his shoulders. Even clothed, the bed at Shell Cottage where he'd left Seamus had been better than this.He'd been there twenty minutes, flip flopping uncomfortably, unused to sleeping alone, when the door opened. The voice was soft, resigned. "Come to bed, Ron."Ron walked over to Hermione and hugged her gently, tenderly. "I'm sorry," he said, barely speaking.Hermione's hands stroked the almost invisible scars from the splinching he'd suffered after their raid on the Ministry. She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "I love you."Ron didn't say anything, he just held her in his arms for the space of minutes before following her back into the room they shared and on to their bed. Then their words did not matter, as their bodies surrendered, both, to the familiar language of touch.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus surveyed the situation as calmly as he could with the sharp pulsing pain in his jaw distracting him. Most anyone else would be thrilled to be surrounded by a professional Quidditch team. If it had been the Kestrels, Seamus himself would probably be happy. But this was Puddlemere United. Oliver Wood's team, sans Oliver. Another fist clipped his jaw from the other side as Seamus backed up further."Not looking for trouble," said Seamus, backing up and holding up his hands."Don't know what you did, Finnigan," said a compact tightly built man that reminded Seamus of Harry just a bit, "but you hurt Oliver and that's not on.""I just came to watch the game, yeah," said Seamus."Your mistake," said the compact man, who seemed to be the leader. Their seeker, clearly. It figured.The team beaters seized him, one on either side and hauled him against a wall, and then the world of Seamus Finnigan was one filled with pain. Seamus glared at them. He'd been a hero of the war. Endured the beatings and abuse of the Carrows. This was... worse. There had been purpose in that at least in surviving the Carrows' beatings. Something to hold onto. Someone to believe in. This was just pain and suffering, inflicted to teach him a lesson."Had enough?" asked the seeker. The beaters had dropped him to the ground to take their turn at him, heavy boots leaving imprints against his skin. Seamus looked up. "Deserve worse," he groaned, looking up at them through eyes half swollen shut."Oi! Get away from him!" came a voice. "What the fuck, mates. What are you..."Seamus looked up to see the tall burly figure of Oliver Wood before his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.Was he having the nightmare again? The one where he was stuck in seventh year, the Carrows beating him. The fire of *Cruciatus* lighting his skin? Seamus coughed weakly, turning as his eyes fluttered open. Fuck, he was coughing up blood, that couldn't be good. He stayed on his side and tried to breathe. He was on a plain metal framed bed. White sheets, speckled with blood. His eyes managed to stray enough to see other beds in neat rows. Fuck, St. Mungo's.He coughed worse as he pulled himself up in the bed to sit up, only to find himself face to face with a very grumpy mediwitch. "Well, Mister Finnigan. Another jilted lover?" asked the woman."Madam Ebbington," said Seamus, finding the name in the dim recesses of his memory. "I...""You were beaten to within an inch of your life this time," said the mediwitch. "Not... not first time," managed Seamus."No, no it's not. And there are older injuries there too.""Still weak," said Seamus in a mumble as dizziness overtook him for a moment and he found himself retching into a metal bucket. At least they kept it in the usual place.There were hands on his shoulders, gentle ones, but they still hurt the bruises there. When he was done a whispered word took care of the mess in the bucket, and Seamus was struck with a bitter reminder of waking up in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. At least then Ron had been there."Better, Mister Finnigan?" asked the mediwitch. Seamus nodded mutely. "Fortunately most of the damage was superficial," said the mediwitch clinically. "You were very lucky this time.""'s what you said last time," managed Seamus weakly."I do believe it is. I've taken care of the worst of the damage and the swelling, but a lot of the smaller cuts and bruises should really heal naturally on their own," said the mediwitch. "But I can't emphasize this enough. You had internal bleeding, Mister Finnigan. If someone hadn't brought you in, you might not still be with us at all." She shook her head. "For your sake, I hope this does not happen again.""When can I go home?" asked Seamus."I can send you home with some potions...""No. No potions. Just let me go home."She looked at him oddly. "Mister Finnigan?""He's recovering from potions abuse," said a voice from the corner, very quiet. "If you give the potions to me, I'll make sure he only takes what he needs.""Sweet?"He leaned back to see Ron's questioning glance at the mediwitch, who nodded an approving affirmative and looked back at Seamus. "You'll be released in a few hours, Mister Finnigan," she said, glancing quickly at Ron, "I have other patients to see to. I'll leave you alone."Once she was gone Ron sat next to him on the bed and stroked his face, calloused fingers gently caressing the skin. "Shay, what happened?""Nothing I didn't deserve," said Seamus softly. "Why are you...""Don't start.""You have a trace on me, don't you?""Not a trace exactly," said Ron, his hands moving over Seamus body and taking mental note of every wince. "Shay... what did you do?""Leave it, sweet," said Seamus softly. "Please."Ron's glared at him for a moment, then his expression softened. "Fine." Ron's eyes were adoration and love and fucking hell, why had he given this up? Seamus caught Ron's fingers in his and pressed them to his lips. "Thank you. For. For finding me.""Didn't find you. You were dropped off in the lobby.""Fuck.""Yeah. Shay... what happened?" asked Ron. "You had your wand, you can't tell me...""Because I should kill people who want to teach me a lesson?" asked Seamus. "I'm a pyromancer, Ron. Half of it is dark arts. Fire doesn't stun or wound... it kills.""And you couldn't just *Stupefy*?" asked Ron. "Or *Levicorpus* or any of the dozens of hexes that we learned in the DA from Harry?""I... I guess I didn't feel...""You let them beat you up, Shay. They could have killed you," said Ron, the fear in his voice plain. "Now tell me who.""No.""Shay...""No, Ron. You'll go and be all noble and heroic, and I don't... I don't deserve that, sweet," said Seamus. "Really, I don't."Ron hung his head. "I would have...""I know, sweet. You would have been my white knight. But I'm not a damsel in distress. Really I'm not."Ron sighed and stroked his face again. "You'll have to stay at the Cottage, for the potions treatments, I mean."Seamus looked down, refusing to meet Ron's eyes. "We both know that's a bad idea.""Afraid you won't be able to keep your hands off me?" joked Ron.Seamus looked up and met Ron's eyes. "Yes."Ron looked away quickly. "I... I'll stop by to bring you to the Cottage later, okay.""Hermione is not going to let you keep doing this forever," said Seamus. "A clean break would be better.""For who?""Both of us, probably.""Is that what you want?" asked Ron.Seamus swallowed. "Sweet. This is your marriage. To Hermione. She loves you.""And you?""You know the answer to that," said Seamus. "Don't make me say it.""Maybe I need... maybe I need to hear it."Seamus closed his eyes and squeezed Ron's hand gently. "Forever," he said very quietly. "I always meant it, sweet. I always will."Ron lifted Seamus hand and held it briefly against his forehead, kissed it, and released him, standing up. "I'll be by later to take you to the Cottage, okay?"Seamus wiped a tear from his eye and nodded, watching Ron walk out of the room. He stopped at the door and looked back at Seamus, mouthing the words "I love you" at him, then disappeared.The day in the hospital was a long and lonely one. Seamus was used to that. It was almost comforting to be waiting for Ron to come at the end of the day. Ron would come and Seamus felt a rather severe bit of guilt for that. He should have chased Ron away, made him... made him realize what Hermione was to him.That was a depressing thought. Seamus cringed as he adjusted himself to sit half upright in the bed, and sighed. Muggle hospital beds were years ahead of these. Searching he found his wand and finding the finesse he'd so often lacked in school he transfigured the bed to hold him properly upright. Even McGonagall would have been proud of that spell, he thought with a brief smile, interrupted with yet another hiss of pain as tried to get comfortable.It was midday when the unexpected visitor came. Big, burly, imposing. The shadow fell across his bed and Seamus lost what little color he'd regained when he saw who it was.Oliver Wood.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus looked away. "Wood," he said quietly in acknowledgement.Oliver didn't move, he just stood and stared. It was not entirely unlike the way Neville had looked at him all those times in the hospital wing at Hogwarts while he was recovering. Seamus swallowed and finally lifted his eyes to meet Oliver's."Finnigan," said Oliver finally.Seamus just met his gaze, not saying anything. Nothing he could say really that wouldn't make it worse."Did you come to gloat?" asked Oliver. "Is that why you were there?""That's not... I'm sorry.""Sorry? You think sorry... you think that makes it better?" said Oliver, his face a mask of hurt and rage.Seamus shook his head, and reached for his wand, casting a quick silencing spell over them. "What do you want me to say?""You ruined me, Finnigan," said Oliver, his face growing steadily more red. "Neville left me.""Because of what I did? He wouldn't do that. Neville's a good man.""Does it matter why? He still left."Seamus sighed. "I'm sorry. I know what it is to lose someone you love.""Do you?""Yes. I do," said Seamus very quietly. He paused for a few moments. "I really am sorry.""Gee, that makes it all better, thanks," said Oliver, practically spitting the words."It doesn't. But it needs to be said all the same," said Seamus. "Why are you here, Wood?""I... I don't even know.""You stopped them, didn't you?"Oliver nodded. "Yeah.""You should have let them kill me.""Didn't do it for you," spat Oliver. "Should have killed you myself! But... if you filed a complaint we..." He paused. "I. Don't take Quidditch away from me too, Finnigan.""That's why you came?""No. Maybe. It's part of it."Seamus looked away. "I deserved what they did. I won't say anything.""Not even to Ron?" said Oliver bitterly. "I know he's been...""Not even to Ron," said Seamus interrupting softly.Oliver grunted and glared at Seamus one more time before turning away."Wood," said Seamus."Yeah," said Oliver, not turning around."I meant it. That I'm sorry. I'm not like that."Oliver's shoulders stiffened as he stood for a moment not moving. "I thought I was making love to Neville. Thought we were finally working. And instead you took something from me. Something I don't... I'm not like you, I don't give that away.""I know. There's nothing... I can't take it back. I did it. I'm...""Don't you dare say 'I'm sorry,' don't. Just don't," said Oliver.Seamus quieted, watching Oliver's back as his whole body shook.After a moment Oliver turned around to look at him again. "Why did you do it? I mean... you're a famous playboy. It's not like... Why?""I don't know that I can give you an answer you'll understand.""I'm not thick," said Oliver. "Just... why?""It won't make sense. It doesn't to me, and I was...""Just tell me."Seamus looked at him and cast a second and third silencing charm over the area. Then he set down his wand and looked very seriously at Oliver. "I was angry. At Neville mostly. But really at myself. He was just the easy target.""Why?""I wanted him. He was the person who... well, he took someone away from me, or I thought he did. And I thought if I could prove I was worthy of Neville too, then the person I'd lost would value me and come back to me." Seamus sighed. "It sounds barmy now, I know, but trust me, on enough alcohol and dust and filled up with potions it...""But you didn't go after him, you went after me.""He rejected me, again. First he wanted Harry and then Luciano and then you. I wasn't... Wood, I wasn't in my right mind. I was angry and I'd... I'd taken things to make me need release. You were a way to get revenge and take care of that need at the same time.""That's sick," said Oliver standing up."You're right. It's not an excuse, Wood, but I was on... I'd been taking drugs. Muggle and wizard drugs. A lot, for a long time.""So the drugs made you do it," said Oliver, "typical, trying to...""It's my fault, Wood. I took the drugs, I made that choice. And I... I raped you. Whether the drugs made me do it or not, it was still me, this body, that did it. I don't expect you to ever forgive me or understand.""I can't. I won't. You... you sicken me, Finnigan."Seamus looked away. "You can hit me, if you want. I won't... I won't report you. I deserve whatever revenge...""Granger did something to you."Seamus nodded."She won't say what. Just that it hurts. Tell me it hurts, Finnigan."Seamus looked at him. "It's worse than *Cruciatus*.""Good." Oliver turned, and this time he didn't look back as he walked out of the ward.Seamus leaned awkwardly back into the transfigured bed. He sat and thought for a long time before the aurors came. Seamus answered their questions with misdirection and half truths. There was a little Slytherin in all the students that survived Snape's year as headmaster at Hogwarts, and his answers had just enough truth in them to be entirely unhelpful to the aurors. They left, unhappy and Seamus just turned and stared out the window, wishing he was in a private room.Of course the aurors were better than his next visitor, Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet. She was far more tenacious and Slytherin in her approach. And she knew he'd been visited by both Ronald Weasley and Oliver Wood."Surely you can tell me a little about what happened?" she asked. "Poor lonely Gryffindor dropped off beaten within an inch of his death. Where are all your weeping lovers, Mister Finnigan. Don't they belong here? Or are Wood and Weasley your lovers... Hermione Granger-Weasley dumped for Gryffindor Playboy!" she grew excited as she spoke, her photographer quickly snapping a shot of Seamus bruised in his bed."What do you want, Skeeter?" asked Seamus. "I got beaten up, it's embarrassing. Two old friends from school stopped by to visit. I hardly see that as...""Your fellow patients say that you were arguing with Wood. Lover's quarrel?" asked Skeeter emphatically. "Come on, you little firebrand, you can tell Rita...""Just get the hell out, Skeeter!" said Seamus, shaking his head. "I have no further comments.""I could run with the stories that Ronald Weasley was kissing your...""You could," said a voice from behind her. "I wouldn't recommend it. You remember my wife, surely. The one who keeps a special pesticide potion set aside for the Prophet offices just in case you need to be managed?"Rita huffed. "I was in the middle of a pleasant interview, Mister Weasley.""He was caught in a brawl after the Kestrels and Puddlemere United match. Wood pulled him out of the fray and brought him here," said Ron seriously. "It's unfortunate, but Quidditch fans, as we're both aware, are a rowdy bunch.""And what will your lovely wife say," said Rita, "about your kissing Mister Finnigan's hand.""You're a cast iron bitch, Rita. And you can quote me on that.""Oh, lovely, insults."Ron glanced at Seamus. "He was my lover," said Ron after a moment. "I'm not ashamed of it. We shared something beautiful a long time ago."Rita's eyes got big and she smiled. "So when was this?""While you were busy, pretending to be a bug," said Ron pointedly. "Now, if you please, I'm helping Seamus home, and I expect he'd rather NOT get dressed in front of a skanky bitch like you.""I'm printing that bit about you being lovers.""I knew you would," said Ron."Ms. Skeeter!" said Madam Ebbington. "You know very well you're not allowed in the ward!""Oh, dear, did I overstep," said Rita mockingly. "Just what do you think you're going to do about it?"Madam Ebbington drew her wand. "Don't test me, Ms. Skeeter. Out!"Rita casually walked out of the ward, acting for all the world as if she was the one that had decided to leave, her photographer in tow. Madam Ebbington looked at Ron briefly and then at her patient. "The bed, Mister Finnigan, really?""It's just a simple transfiguration, easily fixed," said Seamus. "Can I go home now, please?""You're sure you want to entrust this one," she slapped Ron in the chest, "with your potions care?"Seamus nodded."Very well. I will owl him the potions and care instructions. You, Mister Finnigan, will still need rest. No more elegant balls and social events for a while and limit the strenuous activity if you would.""Yes, Madam Ebbington."The mediwitch looked at Ron. "You can take him home, Mister Weasley."Ron smiled gratefully at her and flicked his wand to pull the privacy screens around Seamus' bed. "Need help, firecracker?"Seamus smiled up at him and shook his head, dressing quickly, if a bit awkwardly. When he was done he gripped Ron's arm tight. "Ready, sweet."There was a loud crack, and then they were gone.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus stumbled as they arrived at Shell Cottage, but Ron's grip of his arm proved stronger, and he was pulled back up before he could hit the ground."Careful, firecracker," said Ron. "Just hold on to me, yeah." Ron half carried and half led Seamus into the cottage, sitting him down at the kitchen table. House elves had cleaned the clothes Seamus had been wearing when he was assaulted, but the many tears and rips in the clothes gave mute evidence of the brutality of what had been done.Once Seamus was seated, Ron tousled Seamus' hair and looked hopelessly at the stove. He sighed. Hermione would kill him. "Winky?"There was a pop and Winky the house elf appeared. She looked rather cleaner and more sober than she'd been the last time. "Yes, Master Weasley?""Could you bring a light dinner for myself and Seamus?""Of course, Master Weasley. Winky is a good house elf. If Winky does good, maybe Master Weasley will bind Winky!" She squealed slightly at the thought and then disappeared with a pop."You have an unbound...""Best not to talk about it too much. Hermione isn't big on house elf labor. She finds it an affront to freedom.""But that's what...""I know. But she... she's Muggle-born, Shay."Seamus was quiet for a moment. "Thank you, sweet," he said rather softly, "for taking care of me. For... you make me feel like I matter." The tone left little doubt how wrong Seamus felt Ron was in that belief."Oh, Shay," said Ron, his fingers brushing Seamus' cheek, "you matter. You matter more than," Ron hesitated and then kissed him lightly on the forehead. "You matter to me," he said, sitting next to Seamus and taking his hand. "Don't you know... don't you understand...""I'm a rapist, Ron. Nothing can fix that."Ron gently took Seamus hand and rested it against his forehead, holding it there. "Was it him? Did Oliver do this to you?""Sweet, I... I know you're trying to help, but this. You need to stop.""It was. I'll...""No," said Seamus pulling his hand away. "Stop it. Wood didn't do anything to me, and if he had... I would let him.""Shay, don't say things like...""Like I deserve it? Ron, sweetness, look at what I did."Ron turned away. "He shouldn't have beaten you up. You shouldn't have let him do that, Shay."Winky popped back into the kitchen and set a dinner of pasta and a multitude of tiny grilled sandwiches on the table, a brief snap of her fingers conjuring them plates and glasses and then setting a bottle of wine on the table before bowing quickly and disappearing with a soft crack."Can you handle wine," asked Ron softly, "or should I get you something else?""Wine is fine, sweet, just not too much."They ate quietly, sneaking furtive glances at one another. When they were done, Ron gathered the dishes and set them in the sink to soak. He poured them both another glass of wine and sat across from Seamus. They stared at each other for a little while, quiet, and then Seamus spoke."Hermione will be missing you, yeah?""She's away. International Federation of Wizards Conference on Time Manipulation. It's a subject close to her heart.""Oh," said Seamus softly, cursing himself softly for the elation he felt. "Best administer those potions and get going then.""You want me to leave?"Ron was not leaving, and Seamus knew it. Hated himself for it, a little, and he didn't doubt Ron felt much the same way. "No. But you should," said Seamus. "Before the wine goes to your head, or to mine.""Shay," said Ron, standing up and tousling the man's hair again, "I don't need wine to be intoxicated when you're around." He walked to a cabinet and mumbled a complicated charm, stowing potion bottles in the cabinet and then closing it. He set several small vials in front of Seamus. "Drink up.""All of them?" asked Seamus."Tonight is the worst of it. By the end of the day tomorrow you'll be down to just a couple. Heavy duty pain killers, though. I won't be able to just leave you with them, Shay."Seamus drank the contents of the bottles one after another, then pushed the bottles away. "I hate that.""I know. I..." Ron hesitated. "I was going to start a proper fire. We could sit and watch the flames with our wine, like... like we used to in the Gryffindor common room after...""We didn't have wine then.""Look... I just thought," Ron stumbled over the words."Sweet," said Seamus reaching for Ron's hand and pulling Ron against him when Ron took hold of it. He set his head against Ron's stomach and nuzzled softly against him. "It sounds romantic."Ron swallowed hard. It did sound romantic. It was exactly what they'd done after the very first time. Seamus loved fire so much. "Please?"Seamus closed his eyes and looked several times like he was going to say something. In the end he stood up and leaned against Ron's chest. "You should go before we both do something you'll regret."Ron tipped Seamus' face up and wrapped his arms around him, meeting his lips in a deep, sweet, passionate kiss, full of tenderness and love and need.Seamus leaned back in Ron's arms, breathless. When he could finally speak, he did so very softly. "See. Something you'll regret.""I don't regret it," said Ron, kissing him briefly again. "or that.""But you will," said Seamus, pulling away. "You'll leave and..." Seamus ran a finger along Ron's lips. "I can't, Ron. I..."Ron's forehead touched his. Hot breath tinged with garlic and a hint of spicy wine kissed his nostrils. "Please, firecracker. Sit with me by the fire."Seamus trembled in his arms. "Ron, please. I'm not... I'm human with needs, I can't just..."Ron's hands stroked his face, first one side then the other, as though he was afraid to let go with either hand for too long. "Please?"Seamus closed his eyes and leaned into Ron, letting himself be held. "Okay." Ron lifted him and carried him into the small living room, a wave of his wand covering the floor with soft cushions and a blanket. Then he set Seamus into the cushions and handed him the wand. "Fire. You're... you're the expert." Ron went back into the kitchen and when he returned carrying two wine glasses and the bottle of wine there was a fire dancing in the fireplace. Seamus lay against a mound of pillows, the bruises on his face and arms stark against his fair skin.Ron lay down next to him and poured the wine, setting the bottle on a nearby side table. He took a sip of his and set the glass aside. "You remember?" he asked. Seamus set his own glass aside and pulled Ron to him so that Ron was held from behind, his head against Seamus' chest. Seamus stroked his fingers through Ron's hair. "Like this?" he said.Ron closed his eyes and let himself feel the heat of the fire against the cold of the season. He pulled the blanket up. "We fell asleep and were panicked for days that someone had seen.""I told you I love you," said Seamus quietly into his ear. "You were scared that I hadn't meant it when I screamed it during... you needed to hear it...""Your fingers feel so good."Seamus smiled as he continued to card his fingers through Ron's hair. "I love your hair. It's like fire.""Mmmm. I love what you can do with fire," said Ron. "You would make it dance for me while we watched." Seamus wrapped one leg around Ron's waist, pulling him closer against his chest. Soft lips tickled Ron's ear. "Are we really doing this?" the whisper barely a breath.Ron tilted his head and leaned it back to catch Seamus' lips. They stayed that way for a long time, lips and tongues dancing together. It was a slow and languid snog and when they parted they were both hard and desperate and breathless. Ron leaned up to peck Seamus once more on the lips. "Yes," he said very softly.Seamus reached for his drink and took a sip to fortify himself, then set it aside. He pulled away from Ron just long enough to pull his torn jumper over his head and toss it onto the couch behind them. Ron likewise shucked his and then they lay back together on the pillows, Ron cradled in Seamus' arms. "Will you hate me after?"A tear ran down Ron's cheek. "Never."Fingers moved from Ron's hair to his chest, teasing and touching and making his body sing. "Shay..." his voice was ragged and desperate.Lips kissed against his neck and throat and whispered huskily, "Yes, my sweet?""Love you."Seamus choked back a sob, his head leaned into Ron's. He kissed softly along the jaw line before tilting Ron's head back again to capture his lips for a slow and languid dance of breath and tongue and lips. One hand still gently held Ron to his chest, the other sought along Ron's trousers, finding and unbuckling the fastenings before seeking lower, under the waistband, to grasp hold of him.Ron gasped into their endless kiss at the touch, at the careful pull of expert fingers. Seamus pulled away, just slightly, his forehead finding Ron's, his voice sexy and deep as he whispered in deep gasping breaths. "This is over that line, sweet."Ron's eyes opened, staring, bright blue, into Seamus'. His hips were thrusting gently into the hand that cupped against his flesh. "I..." he raised a hand to brush sandy hair away from Seamus face. "I love you.""I don't want you to regret..."Ron shook his head and met Seamus' lips again. "I know. I'll have to... I know there's consequences. I... I think you're worth it."The hand around Ron's cock squeezed slightly and Ron gasped. "Please... love... love you."Seamus kissed him and then pulled away and stood, stripping off clothes and setting his wand aside as Ron did the same. They lay back down together, Ron's cock lightly grasped in Seamus' hand, their lips together. They lay each cushioned against the other, Seamus gently drawing Ron into ecstasy as they touched and kissed each other. When Ron was nearly at the brink Seamus stopped and rolled Ron on top of him, letting their hands roam.Breathless Seamus asked softly, "What do you want, sweet.""Fill me," said Ron, "Fill me, please Merlin, fill me...""You're sure? It's been a long time..." Seamus pressed the hardness of his flesh against Ron for a moment in reminder. "Holy fuck you're huge. Yes... yes, I want it. Want to feel you in my belly while you fuck me. So big... filling me. Please, Shay, want you."Lips pressed against his ear, nibbling on the edges. Fingers were reaching and pressing and there was something slick and then the bit of fire as a finger delved inside him. "Shh, sweet. It's alright. I'll take good care of you," whispered Seamus as a single finger darted into Ron. He moaned softly. "So close already...""Mmm," lips pressed into his neck and Ron gasped as the second finger joined the first. Gently they twisted and explored, and it was so gentle and Seamus was rocking him softly. "You want me...""Sooo much, fuck Shay. Want to be..."There was pressure then. Ron trembled and bit his lip against the pain he knew was coming. Seamus had always been huge. This couldn't help but hurt... FUCK. Yeah, right there... that pain there. White fire filled Ron's vision and he cried out softly."Shhh, sweetness. Please. Oh fuck. You're so tight." Seamus took several very deep breaths. "Breathe baby, you have to... have to... oh fuck GOD YES... r-relax baby. Sweetness, relax!"Arms wrapped around Ron to hold him, as Seamus kissed his back allowing him a little time, "Relaxed?" he asked very softly in between kisses.Ron nodded, "sooo good." Ron winced as Seamus pushed slowly into him and kept pushing. "Fuck... you're so fucking deep, Shay.""Ohhh... fuck... sweet. L-love you," murmured Seamus as he slid finally the rest of the way inside. "You're so... such... fucking heat. Tight. Love. Fuck." Seamus spoke softly into Ron's skin and stayed deep inside and unmoving for a few moments to let Ron adjust to the intrusion of flesh."Shay.""Yes, sweet?""I... I love you.""I know," said Seamus in soft gasps as Ron squeezed hard around his cock. "Can I... Can I... Please."Ron nodded. "Make love to me, firecracker.""Is... Is that what. I mean.""Yes..." breathed Ron as Seamus pulled slowly out and lit Ron's body on fire. "'s what I wa-want..." He gasped softly as Seamus pushed back in and then out and then in again several times slowly."Fuck... Shay... feels so..."Then Seamus was sliding slowly, so slowly all the way back in."FUCK... so deep... yes, Shay, deep. So deep. Love having you... oh fuck inside me like this fucking AIGGHH... yes. Deep... fuck, yes! Like that! Make me burn!"Seamus held Ron tight in his arms. "I'm... I'm going to really move now.""Fuck yes, Shay, want it... please.""It's.... sweet, it's been a long time... it'll hurt."Ron reached back to pull Seamus into him. He leaned back and twisted so he could catch Seamus' lips, however awkwardly."Sweetness," said Seamus as he pulled back and then thrust in very gently, and again, over and over, slide and burn and touch, playing Ron's body like an instrument. "So sweet, love. Play for me..."It had been their game, Seamus, wickedly endowed Seamus, stroking in and out and letting Ron scream the music of their love into the night. Curses and screams and moans into the night while Seamus mumbled soft words of love into his skin. And Ron obliged, just as he always had, screaming their love into the night as Seamus sank deep into him over and over."Oh god... Ron... sweetness, please, oh god yes!" Seamus mumbled the words, his own drowned out by the foul mouthed begging of the Gryffindor beneath him."Make me come, Shay, please.... oh god, fuck yes, please need you inside me. Need your seed inside me. Make FUCK YES LIKE THAT! Make our OH FUCK!!! Make... want you to make... Shay fuck love you inside me, yes! FUCK... Come, Shay, please, please COME. Want your cream inside me... make my insides sweet, love!"Seamus was beyond words now, the thrusts coming harder and deeper and punctuated with grunts and kisses into Ron's back and deep heaving breaths as he tried to make the two of them into a single body. "Fuck... love you so much, Shay... please... give it to me... give me your love, want it inside me," moaned Ron, leaning back again for a kiss, and then their lips were together and Seamus was thrusting wildly and hard and Ron shuddered as he felt the spray inside him, hot and searing against him and so fucking deep.As Seamus released inside him, his body falling limp against Ron's back, Ron also found his release, spraying against the pillows and cushions of their makeshift bed. Seamus sobbed softly against him, wrapped around his back."Firecracker?" asked Ron, finding breath."I... I don't want to let..."Ron swallowed. "I know. I... Shay, if you." Ron struggled to find his voice and found it lacking. "Hold me?"Arms tightened around him in answer, until they both fell asleep, Seamus still lodged deep inside Ron's body.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Ron woke to the sticky press of flesh against his and an insistent swell in his arse. Fuck. Seamus... Seamus was still inside him, pressed close all night against him. Ron was intensely glad as he held the arms that had wrapped around him in the night. He brought one hand to his fingers and kissed the backs of the fingers gently."Mmmff. Still sleeping," mumbled a sleepy Seamus. A tremor went through Ron's body, shaking him all over. Consequences. His hand settled over Seamus'. He clenched gently against the softened flesh still anchored inside him. He smiled at the soft heat of Seamus breath against his shoulder. They would be totally worth it.Seamus nuzzled against him and soft lips pressed against his back, murmuring something that was meant to mean 'I love you.' Ron smiled and let himself drift back to sleep.Ron was awakened the second time by violent sobbing as the arms around him tightened in a terror driven desperation. Ron choked as he woke and came to his surroundings. Seamus had pulled out of him and he felt sticky, sore, and empty. Ron reached back awkwardly with one hand to grasp Seamus by the hip as reassuringly as he could manage. "Shay... loosen up, can't breathe," he said softly, trying to make it sound as though it were an every day occurrence.Seamus loosened his grasp, but he didn't let go."Shh, firecracker," said Ron softly. "It's okay."Seamus cried, sobs that started in his stomach and echoed outward, enveloping his whole body in a wracking plea to some greater power for mercy or help or compassion. Ron started to say something more several times, but in the end simply waited him out.Finally the sobbing subsided and Seamus leaned into his back. "I'm sorry," whispered Seamus into his back, so quiet."What for?""I. I let you betray...""Shay, love. Please," Ron grasped his hand. "Let me go so we can talk?"Seamus gripped him harder then and Ron sighed."Let me turn around so we can look at each other? You... Shay, you don't have to let go."That got a grunt of approval and Ron turned awkwardly in the encircling arms to look into a handsome freckled face and dark terrified eyes. Ron held him gently, wrapping his hands around Seamus' chest. "Better?"Seamus' forehead leaned forward against his. "A bit, yeah." "You alright?"Seamus chuckled nervously. "Depends on. Ron, what we did last night...""Was perfect," said Ron, abandoning one arm to grip Seamus by the chin and force him to look right into his eyes. "Do you hear me... it was perfect, and I don't regret it.""How can you not...""My firecracker," said Ron, releasing his chin and stroking Seamus' face, "I don't regret it. You were worth it. You are worth it.""But now," Seamus looked into those beautiful blue eyes and teased the end of Ron's nose with a finger. "Now I have to let you go.""Do you... do you want to let me go?" asked Ron suddenly very quiet."Never, sweetness. But you..."Ron shook his head and set a finger on Seamus' lips. "Then don't.""But Hermione...""Shay. I," Ron closed his eyes. "I need to know what you want.""And if I want this?" asked Seamus."Is it what you want?" asked Ron, looking intently into his eyes. "You have to be sure.""I've never wanted anything else. But sweetness, you know. I can't ask you to..."Ron met his lips in a kiss, blistering in its intensity. When he pulled away he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Seamus', still breathless. "I was afraid, so afraid, you'd push me away.""It's what I should do," said Seamus looking away."I love you.""You have a baby coming with...""I know. That's why I need. You have to be sure.""But if I'm sure?"Ron smiled and it was probably the most beautiful sight Seamus had ever seen. "Come on," he said, wriggling free of arms and standing up. "Potions, then shower, then breakfast.""What about..." asked Seamus, pulling himself up with the help of a proffered arm from Ron."After breakfast.""This is real, right? It's not some elaborate revenge or..."Ron rubbed up against him, and pulled Seamus' hand down to wrap around his semi-hard morning erection. "Feel this? I was hoping you'd help me out with it in the shower."Ron cast an eye about for his wand and cast a couple of industrial strength *Scourgify* spells on the pillows, leaving at least one ruined beyond repair, though at least not sticky with bodily fluids. Then he went to the cabinet and whispered the unlocking charm, pulling out Seamus' potions for the morning."Winky!" he called out. She appeared with a pop. "Master is missing clothes. Is needing clothes?" she asked."Mmm," nodded Ron. "And something for Seamus as well. And breakfast for two?" "Of course, Master Weasley, sir, being right back!" And with a pop she was gone.Ron locked the cabinet again and set the potions out in front of Seamus. He grumbled and drank them, one after another, pushing the bottles away when he was done. Ron pressed a kiss into Seamus' hair. "If we go right now there's just enough time for you to take care of this," he fondled his swollen cock, "in the shower.""You really... you're choosing me?"Ron waggled his eyebrows at Seamus and darted up the stairs to the bathroom. Seamus closed his eyes, whispered a prayer for forgiveness and followed.Seamus tried several times during breakfast to broach the subject of Ron's plans, but Ron shook his head and said "after breakfast" between chewing his food, always reassuringly rubbing Seamus' hand. When they were both done with breakfast and Ron had set the dishes to soak, he turned hesitantly back to Seamus."I love you," he said softly.Seamus stood up and held him tight. "You're leaving?""I. I have to tell 'Mione. I can't just.""She's at a conference.""In London. I... I can find her.""You'll have time?""Time is her subject at the Department of Mysteries. And thought. We'll have the time we need. Are you... you're not having second...""Forever," said Seamus stepping against him and holding him. "I meant it."Ron kissed him tenderly. "I'll be back soon, firecracker. Promise."Then, with a crack, he was gone.The International Federation of Wizards Conference on Time Manipulation was a stuffy affair full of white bearded wizards that reminded Ron poignantly of Albus Dumbledore. It was a boon, however, in finding Hermione, whose full head of curly hair stood out among what was a very male dominated conference. Ron waited quietly under a disillusionment charm until he could catch Hermione alone, and then made himself briefly visible to draw her away.He wasn't surprised at the drawn wand or the list of personal questions rapidly fired at him to determine if he was in fact Ronald Weasley. When she was done with those her eyes narrowed and she looked at him very seriously. "What happened?""I.""Oh, I know," said Hermione, her anger in the background and still held in check, "but don't think for one moment...""I'm sorry.""No, Ronald," said Hermione plainly, her voice icy, "you have to say it."Ron's face fell. "Please, Hermione, let me...""Say it, Ronald.""'Mione, I..."Hermione reached up and touched his cheek. "It's okay, Ron. Just. Just say it.""Will you forgive me?" he asked, looking at her with adoring puppy dog eyes."Not right away," she said, her voice still icy."Eventually?""Maybe," said Hermione. "But I certainly won't if you can't say it.""I... I'm in love with Seamus.""And.""I slept with him.""And.""I... I'll still take care of you and the baby. Both of you, you're still my family, 'Mione.""What if I don't...""You wouldn't do that, 'Mione," said Ron."Oh, Ronald," she stroked his face. "I love you, you know that.""I know.""I... I can make more time for us... I can."Ron shook his head. "This isn't about me loving you or the baby, 'Mione. You know that I do. Of course I do. It's. 'Mione. This is right.""Leaving your wife when she's pregnant. Cheating on her, while she's pregnant."Ron bent over, fighting off tears. "It's right. I know it. He... he completes me, 'Mione. It's just..." Ron fell to the floor, tears falling down his face. "I do love you."Hermione dropped carefully to her knees. She wasn't showing yet, but moving was already a little awkward. "I'm going to make this easy for you, Ron. I am. But no one else will, you know that.""God, I'll have Howlers every day for weeks.""You have to tell her yourself Ron. Your Mum, Harry and Neville. Those three.""The three who will throw hexes at me.""The three who should hear it from you.""How. How did you know?"Hermione swallowed. "Promise bindings. You know we... we've talked about them a lot. With Harry and Draco. With Noah and Luciano. With what they did to... I told you, Ron, it's all in the numbers." "You... you ran my chart."She nodded, wiping away a tear. "When I found out that you and Seamus had... I couldn't. I had to know.""'Mione. You know I'm here for...""I know. But not now." She took a deep breath and composed herself. "I have a conference to finish. I... I'll ask Harry if I can continue to stay at Grimmauld Place, for the time being. I... I need you not to be there for now.""And her," he said quietly with a glance at Hermione's stomach."She's a Weasley, and I'll raise her as one. Knowing her father. Knowing her family. It'll be good," she said setting a hand on Ron's stomach, "for her to grow up with her brother. Don't you think?"Tears fell from Ron's eyes. He hadn't used a charm. His hand went automatically to his hip, feeling for the swell. He closed his eyes. "I...""You should go and tell Seamus he's going to be a father."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------It always seemed busy at St. Mungo's after the holidays. It sobered Ron to realize how often he'd been there to know that. They'd made a point of it, after Hogwarts... to go to St. Mungo's and sit with Neville and his parents at the holiday. And it was always busy, just as it was now. He made his way to the maternity ward. He'd been there often enough with Hermione to know where to go. The mediwitches gave him an odd look as he approached the desk."Mister Weasley?" asked a pleasant young wizard at the desk. "Do you have your days confused? Your wife...""I. I need to see a mediwitch privately, please," he said quietly.It was Madam Ebbington that happened to be on duty. It both spooked and comforted him to see the pleasant face as he was taken to a small room."Mister Finnigan is alright?""So far," said Ron. "He has taken his potions and the stock is locked up behind locking charms that should suffice. He's a pyromancer not a charms expert.""Well good. So this is about Mrs. Granger-Weasley, then?"Ron shook his head. "My wife and I... we're... estranged." Ron barely managed to choke out the last word."Mister Weasley... now is not the time to...""Please. I don't need moral judgments. I need. I need a proper pregnancy test.""For... for you?"Ron nodded slowly, a flush settling in his cheeks."I've seen your record, Mister Weasley. I'm sure you know a perfectly adequate test. Why?""I want to confirm the sex of the baby. And I'm... the season isn't over and I can't just stop. I'll have to finish the season, which means I'll need...""Ah. You intend to remain an active wizard then? You know this is where I...""I've lost one child. I won't lose another, even if it means quitting the team. But we're only two or three weeks from the end of the season, and I thought... I thought under care for the first couple weeks?""Two weeks, Mister Weasley. With appropriate potions and a medically approved cushioning spell, you might play for most of the third week as well. After that... well you know, most wizard pregnancies terminate during the first two months.""Can you... can you run the test?"The witch pressed her lips in a tight line and waved her wand, gazing intently at the row of colors the diagnostic spell caused. She then did a number of other spells, rapidly, one after the other."Well. I've rarely seen a wizard pregnancy identified so early. You conceived last night?"Ron nodded. "The baby is healthy, a boy, though slightly shocked from Apparition. You'll need to fly or take Muggle transport to get to your matches, Mister Weasley. No Floo and no apparition unless absolutely necessary. And if it is... you'll need to take potions first.""Portkey?" "In an emergency, but the same thing applies, you'll need to take a potion first. I'll give you a supply.""I'll take it easy.""Mister Weasley. You and the father... you should be having sex regularly. And having stabilizing potions brewed from both of your blood and semen."Ron nodded. "I... I know a potions master. I'll ask him. He's been brewing them for months, I know he knows what's involved." He hesitated. "It's not going to hurt the baby that Hermione is carrying that we're not having sex anymore is it?""She's far enough along," said Madam Ebbington stiffling a scowl. "The stress is not good for her though. You have told her, Mister Weasley?"Ron nodded glumly."Very well," she said going to a cabinet and sorting through various bottles before setting several in front of him with a pile of literature on wizard pregnancy. "I'll owl more to you. You'll need regular checkups. Do you have a mediwitch in mind?""Privacy is a concern," said Ron. "I'll ask my sister, Ginny.""Very well. I'll. Mister Weasley, I need the name of the wizard. His medical history is important to...""No," said Ron. "I'll give the name to Ginny. If it goes on my official record, this will be in the Prophet tomorrow.""We maintain strict confi...""Which is why Rita Skeeter was interviewing Seamus just yesterday in your ward?"She sighed. "Very well, Mister Weasley. Just see that she does check. There are a number of possible complications that can...""I'm familiar," said Ron. "I've been through this before.""Of course," she said. "Well then. If there's nothing further, I've a busy ward to get to." She nodded at him, her disapproval clear, and departed. Ron had a sudden longing to see Madam Pomfrey. Dragon lady or not, she had a compassionate spirit he'd never really seen at St. Mungo's.Ron pocketed the potions and the literature, and made his way to the lobby."I don't care!" a familiar voice was yelling. "I know he was here, it was in the bleedin' Prophet!"Ron closed his eyes. Damn Skeeter. He'd have to find a copy of the Prophet. He walked into the lobby to the sight of Dean Thomas, still taller than Ron and lanky, looming over a young witch while shaking a crumpled copy of the Prophet in his hands."Dean," he said, loudly enough to get the man's attention."Ron!" Dean glared at the witch and walked over to Ron, punching him quick in the arm in greeting. "It's been...""Only a couple months, Dean. You saw me at Harry's bonding.""Something else that. To Malfoy! Never saw that one coming," said Dean. "Though given how obsessed he was over the bloke, I suppose maybe I should have.""What brings you to St. Mungo's.""Might ask you the same thing. Two days in a row," his voice lowered to a whisper, "and that Skeeter woman claiming you and Seamus had an affair in school.""Funny, that," said Ron evasively. "I had to check in at Maternity," said Ron honestly, though knowing it would be misconstrued. All the former DA members knew of Hermione's pregnancy. "Ah, of course, mate. I thought maybe you were here to see...""He's not here, Dean. He was released yesterday.""Look, mate," said Dean, "I'm... I know you've been looking after him. And I know something happened with Neville and no one will say anything. But, Ron. What's going on with him?""He was your best mate, Dean. What did he tell you?"Dean whispered a *Muffliato* to dampen their conversation from prying ears and spoke, still quite softly. "He was on drugs. Pretty serious stuff. That's why... I haven't seen him much lately. He's gone a few times to Ministry balls, the usual social stuff the three of you usually avoid. But he's. Something's changed since Harry's bonding and I think... I think you know...""He did something that hurt Neville and Oliver Wood," said Ron, feeling the tugging of his vow rather intently."I thought maybe... you know how Seamus is. I thought maybe he'd slept with one of them.""I'm sorry, Dean, I really... I can't talk about it."Dean looked at him seriously. "You alright, mate? You look a little unwell.""Just overtired," he said, clapping Dean on the arm. "Seamus is fine. He's... he's through detox and still clean.""Somebody tried to beat the living daylights out of him, Ron. What if it happens again?""Dean, he really is okay. I mean it.""He's my mate, Ron, I worry about him.""So do I. We'll talk later, yeah?"Ron left the hospital and, mindful of the warnings of the mediwitch, caught a Muggle taxi to Ottery St. Catchpole. Not that the Muggle recognized the location, but Ron gave adequate directions while searching his pockets for the emergency fare he'd carried with him since marrying Hermione. She'd insisted, reminding him pointedly that splinching was not always reparable.He stepped out of the taxi a rather a long time later, well into afternoon, and handed the driver a wad of bills."You sure you're alright out here?" asked the driver. "Don't worry," said Ron, "I live not far off."The driver grunted and pocketed the bills before driving away. Ron smiled and pulled a small bag out of his pocket. Hermione had given it to him so he'd always have a broom with him. It wasn't the Firebolt that Harry had bought for him after the war, but it was a high ranked Nimbus model, one he'd used in matches on occasion. As a keeper he didn't really need the speed of the Firebolt. He mounted the broom quickly and sped off toward the Burrow, noting with some alarm that this had him far more nervous than facing the Dark Lord ever had.He landed near the house and stowed his broom back in its bag before walking up to the house. Molly greeted him seamlessly, as though he walked in every day, squeezing his cheeks and hugging him as she always had his entire life. "Hi, Mum," he said quietly."You know," said Molly as she wandered the kitchen, her wand directing the motions of countless stirring spoons in pots too numerous to mention, "you and Hermione could move back here after the pregnancy. Your father and I wouldn't mind.""I don't think with the Quidditch season being what it is...""Nonsense, dear. I. Oh," she turned and hugged him tight again. "It's hard, dear, raising all these children and then one day realizing they're all gone. I mean, Ginny living all alone in London now that Neville is gone, and George over his shop at Diagon Alley and... well. You and Hermione were the only ones left.""It's better for the baby to be in London near the Ministry," said Ron. "You know that.""I know," said Molly, "I do, I just. I worry about you two without... Ronald, dear, whatever is... did I say something?""No, nothing," said Ron quickly turning away. "Why would you think...""Ronald Weasley, don't you turn your back on me!"Ron turned around, tear trails evident on his face. "Happy, Mum?""Good heavens, Ron, whatever is... did something happen with Hermione?""I. We. Merlin, I don't know how...""She's not hurt is she?"Damn, there was no easy way to say this. "I left Hermione, Mum.""You WHAT! Ronald Weasley, you go find that lovely witch this instant and...""No.""What did you say to me?""No, Mum. I'm not going to...""Ronald Weasley! Marriage takes commitment, and love, and a willingness to compromise and work out differences...""I know, Mum. I do. Hermione and I... we talked, Mum.""What about compromise?" asked Molly, aghast. "She's carrying your child, Ron!""We can't compromise, Mum. Not about this. I. She's going to raise our daughter as a Weasley. She's still going to be part of the family. This is about as amicable as it can be under the...""Whatever happened?" said Molly, seizing Ron and installing him on a chair before sitting herself immediately across from him."I...""Ron, you can fix this, you have to. She's pregnant with your first...""Not my first, Mum," said Ron bitterly. "My first died.""I... I wasn't. That's not what I meant," she said, setting a hand on Ron's shoulder. "I know you... I know how hurt you were. I watched you and Charlie both go through that horrible pain. And I...""Mum. There's," Ron looked up and closed his eyes for a moment composing himself, "there's nothing that will fix Hermione and I. We talked. She understands. She... she's letting me go. She knew before me, I think.""None of this makes sense, Ron," said Molly."I know. I promised her. I told her I'd tell you myself. And Harry, and Neville. I promised, and I... I already broke one promise to her, I'm not breaking another one."Molly looked up at him, torn and confused. "Ron. What happened?""I fell in love with someone else a long time ago, Mum. I just. I set it aside.""But you loved Hermione!""Yes, I did, and I do. But Mum... he completes me. He always has. I won't give that up again. I can't."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------"He completes you?" asked Molly. "You're in love with a man?""Since I was fourteen, Mum," said Ron."It's him. The one who..."Ron swallowed and nodded. "It is. I... I never stopped loving him.""He left you, Ron. All alone, dealing with...""I know. But I love him. We've forgiven each other." Ron looked down, unwilling to meet her eyes. She'd always been stubborn. "He. Mum, I'm not giving him up. He's back and he's with me and that's... that's how it's going to be. That's how it has to be.""Ron, marriage is a promise.""I love Hermione, Mum. I love the daughter she's carrying. But this isn't just a passing fancy. This is a love I've tried so hard, you know I have, to banish from my life forever," Ron looked at her, his emotion boiling over. "He was coming back to me, Mum. When I miscarried. And he found out, and he thought... he thought I had terminated the pregnancy. And we were both so angry that we didn't... we never talked about it. Not once. All these years we could have... I've lost them and I won't lose any more. He's like a piece of my soul.""But Hermione...""Understands. She hates it, and so do I, that this hurts her that way. But I won't do what Charlie did all those years and pretend. Would you prefer I pretend he didn't exist? Never bring him home for him to be a proper part of the family? Is that what you want? For me to dread family gatherings because he doesn't fit what you wanted for me?" Ron sighed and looked up, this time meeting her gaze. "I thought. I thought you wanted me to be happy, Mum.""I thought Hermione made you happy," she said softly."I convinced myself of that too," said Ron. "But, Mum. It was a lie. And I won't lie about it any more. I love him. I'm going to be with him. I can't put into words how much it hurts me to be putting Hermione through this. To be breaking my daughter's home before she's even in this world. But that... Mum. This is that important. Enough for that to be the right choice. Hermione and I both know it.""And this man?""Loves me so much he'd let me go," said Ron, standing. "I won't let him do that."She glared at him, her mouth set firmly, disapproving."Mum. Please."Molly stood and embraced him. "He'd better make you very happy.""He does," said Ron softly into her hair. "Very happy."Only the reality of Quidditch training sustained Ron on the very long and icy broom flight to Scotland. He'd have to use one of the potions Madam Ebbington had provided to return to Shell Cottage, so he'd opted to fly to Hogsmeade, following the lonely track from Platform 9 and 3/4 to the small town in the shadow of Hogwarts. He was only grateful for years of sitting outside in the cold with Hermione, whose industrial strength warming charms were the stuff of legend.Ron sighed as he sat in the familiar booths of the Three Broomsticks waiting for Harry and Neville. The talk with his mum had been brief and loud and they'd left with neither of them truly satisfied. Molly still wanted him to try with Hermione, to find some way to make it work, and Ron just wanted his mum to accept the decision, which was made. Molly acquiesced in the end to him making a fire call to Harry before he left, which he'd made only after double checking that it wouldn't interfere with the pregnancy. Fortunately fire calls were considered safe, and Harry and Neville were meeting him for drinks.The long flight behind him, Ron ordered a butterbeer and waited, rubbing his hands together to warm them and grateful for the booth near the fire. He knew he'd have a bit of a wait. The students were back from the winter holiday and it was the middle of the week. On the other hand, on a weekend he'd be hard pressed to get Neville, who spent his weekends unabashedly wrapped in the arms of his husband in some remote location that he'd not even told Ginny about.Finally they arrived, together and concerned, and sat across from him. He looked up at them and struggled to meet their eyes. "Sorry to pull you... I mean. I know you're both busy," said Ron as they took their seats."No problem, mate," said Neville."Yeah, Ron," said Harry, "It's fine, really. It's good for Draco to have some time alone with Teddy. And Kreacher can keep Errakis and Fred calm for an evening. Well. Maybe. They... they're rather attached to me." He looked a little sheepish. "Have a tendency to wail if they call and I'm not about. Poor Kreacher.""I'm sure Draco suffers more from it.""Ah, but Kreacher has those ears," said Harry with a grin, clapping Ron on the arm. "No, really, mate, it's fine. Syeda and Petrosh are both helping, since Hermione won't stand for them to help at Grimmauld Place. She's set detection spells up, so that I can't even send them to clean quietly when she's asleep.""She probably keeps it cleaner than they would anyway," said Ron with a grin. Hermione had always been a little obsessively neat. "They're doing okay, then? I mean, after all the...""They're both fine. Draco is far better than you could expect with them, though he does still turn his nose at changing nappies. He'll do it, but it doesn't make him happy." Harry laughed. "Makes him anxious to spend time with Teddy though, and that's all for the good."They were quiet for a few minutes while Ron went to the bar for another round of drinks. When he sat back down and set the drinks down on the table, Neville looked at him seriously. "Saw you in the paper.""I didn't read it.""You're taking care of him, Ron? Still? After what he did?" hissed Neville. "Why?""I...""We're just concerned about you, Ron, both of us," said Harry quietly."Like I was concerned with Draco?" asked Ron with a pointed glare at Harry. "Or Viktor," he continued, looking at Neville."That's different," said Neville."Fine." Ron sighed, expertly enacting a silencing charm. "I didn't. I didn't come to fight, mates. You. I needed you to..." Ron fiddled with his fingers as he spoke, his volume dropping as he continued. "I broke up with 'Mione.""WHAT!" shouted Harry, exclaiming expressively enough to draw the eyes of half the pub, even with the silencing charms around the booth.Neville was very quiet. "And this relates to you taking care of Seamus, doesn't it?"Ron looked at Neville and tried to contain the smile that wanted to show itself. "Yeah. Yeah, mate, it does.""Seamus?" asked Harry weakly. "You... you told me he's a slag. That we shouldn't hook him up with Neville because...""I was wrong, okay?""But you weren't, Ron," said Neville, blue flashing behind the cold ice of his eyes. "You weren't. Look at what he did to Oliver," Neville clutched his head as the pain hit, glaring sidelong at Harry before fixing his gaze on Ron, "at what he did to me.""Forget Seamus," said Harry. "That's not the main... what about." Harry struggled to find words. "Hermione is carrying your baby, Ron. You're walking out on...""Don't you think I know that?" said Ron, the conflict plain on his face. "He completes me, Harry. He... it's like this piece that's always been missing and just fits.""Wait... you mean. There was something going on?" asked Harry. "Ron!""Forget what Seamus did to Oliver, and to me," said Neville. "He left you, Ron. He left you pregnant and alone. He left you to deal with the death of your child alone. You're going to forgive him for that?""He thought I terminated the pregnancy, Neville. He didn't... He was ready to come back to me and then the baby was gone and he thought... he thought I'd gotten rid of it.""You'd never have done that, Ron, not even at fourteen," said Neville. "And if he loved you so much he should have known that.""He knows it now," said Ron. "This isn't coming from nowhere. After Harry's wedding, when he was sick, I visited him. And we talked. Every night we talked, for weeks while he recovered. You saw him every day, too," he looked at Neville, "I know you did. To stare at him and try to bring yourself to do something Unforgivable.""What about Hermione?" asked Harry slowly."She already knew," said Ron softly. "Ran my bloody Arithmancy chart, didn't she. She overheard that night. That Seamus had gotten me pregnant fourth year. She overheard it and she had to know. If I was gay. If Seamus and I were meant..." Ron let out a deep sigh. "Would've been nice if she'd told me, really.""She's known?" asked Neville."For months. Before anything happened.""Wait!" said Harry. "You're saying something has actually happened? You've..." Harry made a vaguely obscene gesture.Ron nodded slowly. "This isn't. I meant it. This is happening. Hermione and I broke up. Past tense. It's done.""And the bit with you and Seamus?" asked Neville."I know you hate him, Neville. I know you have reason, and I... I don't blame you for it and neither does he. He'll be the first to tell you he deserves it. He'll never ask you to forgive him for it, and I expect he'll feel remorse every moment of every day until he dies. It tortures him."Ron was quiet for a moment and let them take in his words before continuing. "He won't ask, Neville, but I will. We forgave Draco. We forgave him for shooting curses at us. We forgave him for being complacent and letting Dumbledore die, and Hermione be tortured, and putting us, not once but many times, in danger for our lives."Harry's expression was dark. "I don't know what Seamus did. I'm not struggling to forgive Seamus, I'm struggling to... Ron this is Hermione that you're leaving. She's...""She's brilliant, yeah. I know it," said Ron. His voice was rather soft, and only the strength of the silencing charm muting the noise of the bar allowed his next words to be heard. "I am not proud of what I've done, how I've hurt her. And she's angry at me, and she has a right to be. I made promises to her, to be there for her, that I've broken. I made promises to be faithful... and I. I betrayed those to be with Shay." "I defended him," said Neville. "That year when you were away, I put myself between the cancer that had invaded our school and the students you abandoned. And I know you had to do it, and I know we defeated Voldemort because of sacrifices you and Harry and Hermione made. But I withstood *Cruciatus* for Seamus Finnigan, and he repaid me by," Neville glanced at Harry, "by doing what he did to Oliver. Doing it because it would hurt me, without even a thought of what it might do to Oliver.""He's horrified by what he did," said Ron softly. "I know he is. I... I just wish you could see what I see.""You cheated on Hermione," said Harry. "I. She's my friend, Ron. That's just not on.""If that is what Hermione was upset about do you think I would be here? 'Mione who could take all three of us on and win without breaking a sweat? Who knows more hexes than any five fully trained wizards? She's an Unspeakable, Harry."Harry sighed reluctantly and nodded. "You... you gave Draco a chance, and on nothing more than my say so. You stood and witnessed for us. I don't know what Seamus did. Hermione won't say and I know you all can't. But... I'll give him that chance. I'm more upset with you, really, Ron. That you. This is Hermione. You'd leave her alone, when she's carrying your child?""I can't fix that. I don't... I don't regret having a child with 'Mione. I love her, and our daughter will be beautiful, and she'll be loved and she'll have at least two parents that will make sure she knows it, even if we're not together."Harry still looked troubled, but nodded. "I'll... I'll need to hear Hermione's side of this, you know.""I know.""I'll owl you then. After I've talked to her," said Harry, standing up and looking at Neville. "I've got to get back... Slytherin house meeting tonight, and Draco shouldn't have to do it alone. Coming, Nev?""I'll catch you after," said Neville. "I... I have a few more things to say to Ron."Harry looked at Ron and hugged him. "I'm still mad at you. For hurting her.""You should be. It's not fair to her at all.""Just so long as you recognize that," said Harry, clapping him on the back one last time and heading out of the pub.Neville was silent for a while after Harry left."Nev?""Finnigan?" asked Neville. "Really?""I'm sorry, Neville.""Why him?""I had a love, a long time ago. Something pure and lovely and special. And I gave myself to it completely, you know I did. I let it envelop me and take me and made something with that love. Something I lost.""He abandoned...""We were fourteen, Nev," said Ron. "Should we all be held to task for stupid things we did when we were fourteen?""You've really forgiven him for it, haven't you?""Have you forgiven Luciano?""It was never his fault.""Because he wasn't in control?"Neville nodded."It took over a month to detox Shay. It wasn't just alcohol. He was on... Neville, he was taking dust, and phyre, and Muggle drugs I've never heard of, but 'Mione tells me are some serious shit.""You're saying he wasn't himself. That doesn't make it not his fault.""No," said Ron, "it doesn't. And he blames himself. And he absolutely believes he deserves what Hermione did to him. He was in the hospital because someone beat him to within an inch of his life. You know what he told me? 'I deserve what they did.' He wouldn't tell me who, only that he deserved it because it was someone's revenge for Oliver, and what he'd done didn't deserve to be forgiven. Neville... let him prove himself as the man he is now. Not what he was when he was scared and alone and barmy on drugs no sane person would go near."Neville looked down. "I don't know if I can.""Try, Neville. Please."Neville looked up at him. "You'd have to love him a lot to risk Hermione cursing you.""She got a little revenge. She made me tell my mum. And you. And Harry.""That was her being kind. You think you'd stand much chance if she was the one bearing the news?"Ron shook his head. "Probably not. Are we okay?""I'm okay with you, Ron," said Neville softly. "Seamus... that might take me a while. And I won't promise it will ever happen.""That's... it's more than I have a right to hope for, Nev."Ron sat for a long time after Neville had gone. He drank his butterbeer. He received the owl with his divorce papers, right there in Three Broomsticks. If he'd ever had any doubt that Hermione had known, it was erased when he saw the dates on the legal paperwork. They were dated mere days after Harry's bonding. She'd... she'd run his Arithmancy numbers and she'd known. He signed the papers, duplicated them with a twist of his wand, and sent the originals back with the owl. He was numb for a long time after that. He'd known most of the day that this was what was going to happen. But he hadn't expected it to be so final. He'd known, but not understood. Hermione must have rubbed off on him a bit.Sitting there alone in the Three Broomsticks filled him with a desperate need to see Seamus, to feel him, to touch him. He cursed softly. He'd talk to Seamus about moving to Seamus' flat in London for a few weeks later. He added a few drops of the potion into his drink and drained it, then cast the spells he'd been taught to protect the fragile life he carried and took the Floo home.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.A/N: Sorry about the delay, I had a leaking sink and had to replace a faucet.-----Ron knew he shouldn't have been surprised at the sea of red that awaited him. At Seamus, bound by an *Incarcerous* and gagged on the couch. Bill, standing as the authority. Percy looking officious behind him. Charlie and George both relaxing comfortably on either side of Seamus, wands casually held and ready. Ginny, arms crossed, next to Bill. Ron sighed. "So it's an intervention, is it?""Yes," said Bill, the scars across his face stark in the firelight that was all that lit the room."You'll have to wait. He needs his potions. I'm late and he's in pain and none of you noticed." He glared at Ginny in particular, leaving it unspoken that she'd noticed and chose to do nothing to help, and went into the kitchen to get the potions. He tried to get to Seamus, but Bill stood in his way, shaking his head and nodded to Ginny, who stood next to him, hands outstretched."He needs them now, Gin," he said, reluctantly handing them over. Ginny looked unhappy but ungagged Seamus for just long enough to pour the potions down his throat and force him to swallow, then gag him again."Happy?" she said, hands on her hips in a way that reminded him poignantly of their mum. From the looks on George and Charlie's faces, he was not the only one."So what are you doing here?""Mum's concerned about you, Ronnie," said Bill."Was with Dad when Mum fire called," said Percy."Figured it out from the paper, didn't I. Not subtle, Ronnikins," said George."I was dragged," admitted Charlie."Neville is so upset, Ron," said Ginny."I see," said Ron quietly. "What do you want me to say?""You need to go back to Hermione and make this work," said Bill. "I know marriage is hard. You think it's always easy for me and Fleur?""No," said Ron, his voice like iron. "I'm not doing that.""Have you thought of what this looks like for the family?" said Percy. "You're a hero. Hermione is popular and influential at the Ministry. You could be hurting Dad's prospects. My prospects.""I'm bleeding with sympathy," said Ron."What about Neville. He did something terrible to Nev, Ron. I know you know," said Ginny.After a moment George stood up and walked over to Ron. "She knew, didn't she?"Ron nodded. "Yeah, she's known for months.""You have it bad, I did try to tell you.""I should have listened," said Ron, "but it wouldn't have. Nothing would have changed. We needed. I think we both needed the time to find each other again.""Wait!" said Bill, turning on George. "You knew? George Weasley! Why are you not..."George glared at Bill. "Because it was making him happy!"Charlie stood up and moved to stand next to Ron. "Is that true, Ron? Does he... does he make you happy?""Will you listen?""I was dragged, Ronnie. I didn't come to interfere in your life. But I'm your brother. Tell me how he makes you feel."Ron grabbed Charlie's hand and pressed it to his hip, where he was swollen and ripe. "He makes me want it, Charlie. With him."Bill looked at Ron, confused, but Charlie's expression warmed instantly.Charlie shook his head, looking around at the assembled Weasleys. "Ronnie's made his decision boys. We're done here.""You're just going to let him..." said Bill."Yes. I remember how everyone treated Mikhael when I finally admitted we were dating. I won't have that happen to Ron," said Charlie. He looked back at Ron. "If you're abandoning Hermione for him, you'd better mean it." He glanced meaningfully at the hand that Ron still had held to his hip. "But I think you already do."Ron swallowed hard. "I do.""Well then," said George, cracking a grin as he pointed his wand at Seamus, "*Finite*."The ropes disappeared and Seamus pulled the gag out and tossed it aside. "Ron?""Here, my firecracker," said Ron, pulling away from Charlie into the center of the room and holding his arms open. Seamus rushed into them, crushing him in a fierce embrace. "You... you stood up to them for me?""Always," said Ron. "Hermione... we've already filed the papers. This is done. I meant what I said this morning. Every word. You don't have to let go. Never again, Shay. I love you."Bill's expression softened as he watched tears flowing down both of their faces. "Well. I..." he glanced at Percy. "Your job prospects are just going to have to cope, I think." He looked back at Ron, "You should have asked about the Cottage, Ronnie.""I know.""Did you mean that, about the divorce papers?" asked Bill.Ron kept one arm wrapped around Seamus as he slipped the other between them and pulled the lengthy folded document from his robes. "I did."Seamus looked up, his eyes wide. "She...""She's known for a while, Shay. She... she's not ready to forgive me yet, but she's letting me go.""But your baby. Sweet... your..." Seamus stroked Ron's face."It's fine, Shay. We're sharing custody. And... she." Ron's eyes filled with fresh tears. "She's offering you parental rights too, Shay. If you want them. To be a parent for her with us."Bill rolled his eyes. "Okay then, we're definitely done." He seized Percy and shoved him toward the Floo. He set a hand on Ron's back, "Stay as long as you need, Ron. Forever, if you want. It's a nice place, but Fleur... she needs something more."Ron smiled, still holding Seamus to him. "Thanks Bill."There was a flash of green fire and Bill and Percy were gone.George sighed. "I don't suppose this will get me a family discount on fireworks for the shop?" he said jokingly."Sure," mumbled Seamus against Ron's chest. "But I was thinking more on the line of partner."George's eyes were bright. "Oooh. I like this one, Ronnikins. Keep him happy, will you?"There was another flash of fire as George left and then Charlie, with a wink at Seamus. Ginny looked up at Ron. "He hurt Nev, Ron.""I know," said Ron, holding tightly to Seamus. "but that's for Shay and Nev to come to terms with between them, isn't it?""Mum isn't happy.""I can't convince her any more than I have," said Ron. "But Hermione will.""Why... why would she do that?" asked Seamus. "After I...""Because she loves me, Shay," said Ron softly. "She's angry. Even though she knew, she's angry. But," Ron ran his fingers through sandy locks of hair. "she also wants us to be happy."Ginny threw her hands in the air. "He'd better work it out with Neville, Ron." She shot them both a look, a bitter disappointed look, and then tossed some Floo powder into the fire and disappeared in a final burst of flame.Seamus pressed his face against Ron's chest. "I... you fought for me.""Of course I fought for you, firecracker," said Ron, kissing his hair. "I love you.""You... you'd still. I mean after what I did. You'd bear for me?" said Seamus."Shay, love. Look at me." Ron waited until Seamus looked up into his eyes. Ron beamed back at him. "Would you... would you want that?"Seamus sniffed and wiped tears away. "It's what I always wanted. To be a family. With you."Ron closed his eyes and leaned close against Seamus. "I want that too."They stood, holding each other in the warmth of the fire for a long time before Seamus finally spoke. "I was scared. You were gone so long.""I know, my firecracker. I'm sorry.""I thought. I thought they'd convince you. Your brothers. I thought I was going to lose you again," a soft sob filled his body, rumbling into Ron."I wouldn't let that happen.""But your baby...""Shh. It's okay," said Ron, stroking his hair."I... I wish I could have seen our son," said Seamus. "I bet he would have been beautiful."Ron sobbed at that, shuddering with the force of it."I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."Ron heaved several deep breaths, trying to regain control."I'm... shit, Ron... I didn't mean...""No. It's. It's okay. It's just," Ron stumbled over the words. "I always wondered what he'd. Would he have red hair or blue eyes or would his hair be sandy like yours. I always... I wondered.""He would have been beautiful, sweet. Just like you." Seamus hesitated. "We... we could try," fingers ran over Ron's chest. "I mean, if you wanted."Ron kissed him gently, lips and tongue teasing against each other. "I thought maybe we could ask Winky to bring us dinner.""I... I thought maybe you'd want to try," said Seamus looking away.Ron gently tilted Seamus' chin up. "I love you. But I've had almost everyone telling me all day that I was making a horrible mistake, and I'm hungry.""You... you don't think it was a mistake, do you?" said Seamus very softly, his eyes once again turning away."No, my fire," said Ron, leaning in to kiss Seamus' cheek, and then again right against his ear, "I don't.""We could try later..."Ron pressed a kiss into Seamus' forehead. "I'd like that," said Ron as he pulled away and called for Winky.She popped in and excitedly took in his instructions before disappearing with a crack as Ron waved his wand and shortly had the dishes from the morning clean and plates and glasses on the table. Seamus followed him in, looking a little lost."Ron. What's going to happen? With us, I mean."Ron didn't look at him, his attention still focused on the table. "What do you want to happen?" he said, his voice very quiet."I want to know that we'll be together."Ron closed his eyes. "Come here, my firecracker," he said softly.Ron counted the footsteps before the warmth of Seamus body wrapped around him. He set his own hands over the ones embracing him. "What can I say to convince you?""You didn't answer when I asked if you meant it, if you'd bear for me."Ron leaned back into the warmth of Seamus body, arching his back to lean his cheek against Seamus face and kiss him awkwardly, but with an aching tenderness. "And if I would?""I...""It's not proof, love. It's a result.""I'm afraid, sweet," said Seamus, his hands running in little circles against Ron's chest, "Of losing this."Ron laced the fingers of their left hands together over his heart. He was trembling as he pulled his wand out and set the tip against the back of the laced hands."What are you doing, sweet?""I love you," said Ron. He tapped the wand against their hands and light erupted around then, swirling wisps of light in circles around them."I, Ronald Bilius Weasley am held without promise, free to choose," he said quietly."Sweet?""I bind my body to you, my love," he said tapping his wand again against their joined hands. "*Ego ligare corpus ad vos*"The swirling light circled around their wrists, pulsing."I bind my soul to you, my love," and again a tap, "*Ego ligare anima mea ad te*""You're binding yourself to me?"Tears fell from Ron's eyes as he nodded and continued. "I bind my heart to you, my love. *Ego ligare cor meum ad te*""Merlin, Ron, I do love you." Seamus right hand grasped tight around his waist pulling them together."I promise myself to you," said Ron. "*Promitto ipse ad te aeternum*. To be your love. To be your husband. *Esse amor. Esse virum. Nos sunt unum*."The light grew heavy and thick, like too many motes caught in a ray of light, swirling around their hands. Seamus leaned against him. "I... I wish I knew what to...""It's what you want?""So much, sweet.""Be sure. This is a wedding rite.""What do I do?" said Seamus, kissing Ron's shoulder."Hold my wand hand, my firecracker."Seamus' hand wrapped around the fingers holding the wand."Bound together, love," said Ron."Yes, bound.""*Tenetur simul*," said Ron. "Say it, Shay.""*Tenetur simul*.""One body. *Unum caro*.""*Unum caro*" repeated Seamus, his hand tight against Ron's, his fingers touching the smooth wood of the wand."One soul, *Unum anima*, one heart, *Unum cor*," said Ron quietly."*Unum anima, unum cor, nos sunt unum*," said Seamus. "We are one, my sweet."The tendrils of light wrapped tight around their joined wrists then, flaring and sinking into their flesh.There was a clatter as Winky dropped their platters of food to the ground. "Oh Master Weasley! If Winky had but known. This is... This is feeble effort for wedding feast, Master."Ron smiled as he slipped out of Seamus grasp to turn and face him. "I love you. I meant it." He leaned in to capture Seamus' lips and kissed him deeply until he wondered through the pleasure of it how he was staying upright.There was a pop and then another as the room was suddenly very full of house elves setting them a grand feast. Apparently Winky had recruited help."I love you too, sweet."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Winky positively glowed from the praise heaped upon her by the two young men as they finished the last of the delicacies from the feast, a tiny wedding cake, but masterfully made and sinfully delicious. Winky smiled, assured them that they should not worry about dishes or cleaning as that was the job of house elves, and shooed them from the room.Seamus sat in a pile of cushions in front of the fire and opened his arms. Ron smiled and joined him there, leaning back against him and reveling in the fingers threading through his hair. They sat together, watching the fire as Seamus whispered soft words of power and made the flames dance for them."Did you want wine?" asked Seamus softly, murmuring the words into his hair.Ron shook his head, reaching back to stroke Seamus' arm. "Just want to be close," said Ron softly, his other hand stroking Seamus' leg."I noticed you didn't translate everything," said Seamus, kissing the edge of Ron's ear as fingers still ran gently through the mass of orange and red hair.Ron swallowed softly. Only one word had really gone untranslated, but it was... important. He leaned back into Seamus. "Aeternum," he said softly."Forever," said Seamus, kissing Ron's hair. "You bound yourself to me forever.""You make me happy, firecracker."He found himself held tightly then, Seamus' chin resting on his shoulder. "I love you."Ron tilted his head so they were cheek to cheek. "We've wasted enough time. I wanted you to know that mine belongs to you. For us. Together."Ron was quiet for a few minutes before he spoke again. "I... I saw Dean today. He asked about you.""Where?""He was at St. Mungo's, looking for you," said Ron. "He saw the article in the paper. Skeeter printed the quote. About us being lovers in school. He. He didn't know about us. You never told him?""Was scared. Thought he might... I mean, he was raised Muggle, to protect him, wasn't he. Didn't know how he'd. I mean.""You thought he'd freak that we're both blokes.""Yeah.""Seemed alright about Harry.""I'd tell him now," said Seamus, rolling his eyes. "It's just... back then, I didn't know if it was safe. I... I didn't want to lose my best mate.""I just." Ron turned so he could look at Seamus. "I know what happened... with Oliver, that it cut you off from a lot of friends. It's... I think he'd be there for you is all I'm saying."Seamus smiled and kissed Ron briefly. He giggled. "You taste like strawberry."Ron leaned in to kiss Seamus again, making sure to linger and taste. "Mmm, so do you."Seamus kissed him again, a bit more seriously. He stopped to catch his breath after a few moments. "Merlin you're fantastic.""You're rather brilliant yourself.""I. I meant what I said. About trying. I know... I know it still. I'm so sorry Ron to have...""Hush, my fire," said Ron, turning against his side so he was cradled sideways against Seamus' chest and could look at him properly. He kissed Seamus' cheek. "Do you want to try?""I don't want to push. I'd understand, I would, if you never wanted...""I used to dream, Shay. About the two of us together. Me in bed holding our son. You would sit next to us and make his eyes dance, watching you sculpt fire."Seamus teared up. "Sweetness..."Ron stood up and lifted Seamus into his arms, a half-hearted wave had the fire dying down to embers and then Ron carried Seamus into the small master bedroom suite. The bed was enormous, the sheets clean, the decor rather feminine, Fleur's taste, clearly. He set Seamus down on the bed and kissed him briefly before lifting off his shirt and tossing it in the corner."So sexy, Shay."Seamus smiled and unfastened his own trousers, stripping the rest of his clothes off and tossing them to join his shirt. He slid to the edge of the bed and unfastened Ron's trousers as Ron pulled his robes off and then his shirt and let let his trousers pool against the floor. He crawled into the bed and pulled Seamus to him. "I love you," whispered Seamus softly."Firecracker," he said as he rolled over onto Seamus so that he straddled the man's waist. He leaned over to kiss him, hands dancing against skin, lips meeting and opening and welcoming. "You still taste of strawberry," he smiled. "I like it."Seamus moaned as Ron's lips kissed against his chest, taking first one nipple and then the other and worshiping them with gentle nips and kisses and a gentle sucking that would leave him marked in the morning. Hands roamed against his skin, calloused Quidditch keeper hands that stroked and touched and reached back to..."Aiigh!" cried Seamus as Ron's hand wrapped around the hardened length of his cock.Ron leaned forward, his forehead touching Seamus'. "You're bleedin' huge, you know that.""You. Always. Ugh... Oh please yes do that... Ugh. You. Managed.""You wanted to try, love.""I. I. Do. We... we would. Children. Beautiful," moaned Seamus as Ron continued to stroke his cock.Ron let go of Seamus cock and cradled the man's head cupped gently between his hands. "I... Seamus we don't need to try...""Want to, sweet, want..."Ron kissed him very tenderly. "No. Don't need. Fuck." Seamus' substantial length pressed against Ron's arse and from the slickness of it, Seamus hands were at work already to prepare him. Ron shuddered as the first finger pressed into him. "Shay... Love you, Shay.""Want to make a baby with you," said Seamus. "Want you to ride my cock like you did... Sweet. Let me love you, sweet.""Yes. Love me. Good for baby.""Yes, make a baby with me, sweet," said Seamus, a second finger pressing gently and exploring, the touch making Ron's world explode into stars.Ron shook his head. "No. Need to. Oh fuck yes! Need to. Have to tell you. Fuck god AIGH. Oh fuck, oh fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuck YES! So fucking huge. Love your giant cock. So fucking. Oh fuck." Ron sunk rather deliberately to the root and squeezed his arse muscles, making Seamus squeal rather beautifully."Sweet... oh sweet, going to fill you. Make our seed together. Fill you up.""Yes... yes, love. Oh fire, make me burn. Such fire, FUCK." Ron fell against Seamus neck as he was impaled again by Seamus' cock. "Love you, Shay.""Said. You. Tell. Me." Seamus grunted the words as he thrust deep into Ron, his hands gripping Ron's waist for leverage as Ron's face squeezed into a rather exquisite agony, his hands fisting into the sheets.Ron's breaths were fast and breathy, and punctuated by grunts as Seamus took him deep, making him full. "Sex. Good for baby," said Ron into Seamus' neck."Yes, sweet, making...""No. Listen. Oh fuck! God yes! Oh Shay... Shay I love... we. Made. Baby. Yes-Yester-Already. Inside. Me." Ron let go the sheets and seized a hand, pressing it flat against his stomach. "Son. Ours."Seamus' eyes opened wide and he lost all semblance of control as he wrapped himself around Ron and thrust so deep that Ron was sure as the spasms hit and he felt the spray inside him that it would bubble out his mouth. Ron also found release then in the exquisite burn of Seamus' cock against his insides, spurting across both their chests, thick and sticky. Seamus trembled from the force of their joined orgasm and his eyes stayed closed. His hands sought the wetness on their chests, wiping it with his fingers and popping into his mouth. "You. You still taste sweet."Ron smiled as hunched over his face against Seamus' neck. "My insides are wet with your seed, firecracker."They lay like that only briefly before pulling apart and whispering cleansing spells. With the heat of passion behind them, the chill of the winter pressed into the room against the warming charms, and they took solace within the blankets, wrapping themselves into one another."A son?" whispered Seamus."Our son," said Ron as Seamus pillowed himself against Ron's chest and Ron stroked sandy hair with large calloused fingers. "A family, firecracker. You and me and our son. Together.""Let the world hate us," said Seamus softly, tracing a design with his fingers against Ron's chest. "You... this," he moved his hand to Ron's stomach. "It's all I ever wanted."Ron kissed his hair, tousling it fondly, "I love you, Shay."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Ron woke to the sensation of fingers making circles on his chest. He shook his head to help clear it and leaned up slightly to the sight of Seamus wrapped around his side and smiling as he ran his fingers in soft gentle circles along Ron's skin. "Mornin'," said Ron groggily.Seamus smiled and crawled up his body to kiss him gently on the lips. "I love you."Ron smiled as he wiped his eyes with fisted hands. "I know, love. I love you too.""You better," laughed Seamus, rolling himself sideways so he sat at the edge of the bed, "you're stuck with me now!" He reached for Ron's hand and squeezed.Ron smiled at him and sat up, rubbing Seamus' shoulders. "It's... it's going to be a busy day, Shay," he said. "The Prophet will run with my split from Hermione this morning, but the evening edition... Shay, it was a magical contract we did last night. That means...""It was filed at the Ministry automatically," said Seamus soberly, fear lighting behind his eyes. "I. Oh, sweet... I didn't want to make trouble for you..."Ron kissed his shoulder and stood up, pulling Seamus with him. "Shower, breakfast. Then we'll... we'll sort it out, Shay, promise."They showered lazily allowing themselves time to touch and explore and hold each other under the soft spray of hot water. Then they dressed, casual slacks and t-shirts, and the infamous Weasley jumpers, which Ron assured Seamus quickly were as warm as they were ugly. They found Winky in the kitchen, making them breakfast, turning aside their protestations of not being her master with a wave and a firmly stated "No wizards should be making own breakfast morning after being married, Master Weasley."With a glorious and rather fancy breakfast in the offering, neither of the young men were inclined to complain. They ate quietly after Winky had disappeared back to Hogwarts. Finally Seamus spoke quietly. "I didn't dream it did I? What you said while we were..."Ron reached across the table to squeeze his hand gently. "I. I'm sorry. It was a lousy way to tell you.""I thought it was brilliant," said Seamus. "I'll never forget it."Ron smiled as he stroked the fingers held in his hand. "People will know, Shay. I... I need to tell Mum."Seamus paled as he thought of his own parents. "Fuck, sweet. My parents! They don't... they don't even know I fancy blokes.""I'd go with you but I can't. Shay, I can't travel. The baby... it was bad enough I flew all the way to Hogwarts from London last night.""You used the Floo to come home...""I did, but I had to take a potion first, and it's not something I can do often." Ron sighed. "I'll have to stay in London, love, for a few weeks. I can make it to the last couple matches by train and stay locally.""Why can't you... I mean, you know the schedule, right? Just. Take a train from here and make sure to go a few days in advance."There were only a few games left on the schedule for the season. He might manage that. "Want me here, firecracker?""I want to know you're safe. I want to know I'm safe. I'm," Seamus got very quiet. "I'm still an addict, sweet. London isn't very safe for me right now.""You could get those things here.""I could," said Seamus softly, "but I'd have to look rather hard. And here," he brought Ron's hand again to his lips, "I have a lot of reasons not to.""We'll stay here then. But I still have to go to the Burrow to tell Mum. I can't... I can't let her find out in the Prophet."Seamus stood and kissed him on the cheek. "We'll go together. That way we can tell her in person. Do you think. Maybe your Mum could invite my parents and we could tell them all at once, together?""You want someone in the same room when...""I was thinking your Mum and me Da both would be less likely to scream if there was another family present.""Are you sure you've met my Mum?" said Ron, "She's not..." Ron thought for a moment. "It would get it out of the way. We'd have to fly."Seamus used his wand to clear the table while Ron got the ever important potions supply from the cabinet for both of them. Seamus searched for a spare broom while Ron stuck his head in the Floo and made the enigmatic request of Molly to invite the Finnigan family for tea."I really don't understand, Ronald," she said.Ron chuckled. "I know Mum, and I'd explain if I had time. Trust me, it's important. I'll see you for tea, alright?""What if they aren't available for tea, dear?""Bloody well tell them it's important then, Mum. I'm trusting you to do this for me, I need you to trust me to explain when I get there."Molly let out a long suffering sigh. "Very well, dear. I'll invite the Finnigan family for tea." Ron pulled his head from the fire before she could say anything further and smiled as Seamus nimbly stepped off the stairs carrying a broom. "Old Comet model," said Seamus, "but it ought to do alright, Ottery St. Catchpole isn't really all that far by broom.""Not that far, but we still have to avoid being seen by Muggles," said Ron, pulling his Nimbus from its bag. He stepped up to Seamus and stroked his face. "Love you."Seamus leaned in to kiss him briefly and then ruffled his hair. "Careful on that broom, sweet."Ron nodded mutely, and they left the house, quickly mounting their brooms and using a disillusionment charm to conceal their path from any watching Muggles. They stopped for lunch at a village about half-way to the Burrow, doubtless startling a rather large number of Muggles with the presence of their brooms until Ron was able to find enough privacy to stow them in the tiny enchanted bag. Far from soothing, the lunch time stop was nerve wracking. Ron managed to procure the Prophet, and between expose pieces on Seamus' illicit affairs and drug addiction, something Seamus had abashedly admitted were largely accurate, and the front page story of Ron's split from Hermione, extrapolated from Hermione's simple and explicit statement and assumptions from the demented mind of Rita Skeeter, neither were in particularly high spirits. They took turns reassuring one another, quietly with unspoken words, touches, and meaningful glances. There were harsh words thrown at them. People muttering. A word from a woman in official looking dress who told them their behavior was obscene. But while Ron might occasionally second guess his status as a hero, Seamus was used to milking his fame, casually mentioning a relationship with the Minister and the unforeseen consequences the officious woman was courting, and they were left alone. The few who spoke epithets at them openly suffered from minor aches, pains, boils, and other similar consequences that would baffle their doctors and persist for months. Hermione might have frowned on the use of hexes and curses, but she'd imparted a great deal of her knowledge of the subject to Ron over the years.As Ron finished the last of his lunch, he took Seamus' hand and squeezed it gently."Don't be nervous, sweet.""Oi, don't tell me you're not!" said Ron."Of course I am, that's why I need you not to be," said Seamus.Ron brought the hand to his lips and kissed it. "I love you."Seamus looked at him and smiled, "Come on. Your Mum is waiting. I can't imagine this will go better if we're late for tea."Ron sighed at that and the two found a deserted alley where Ron could recover their brooms from his bag. They flew the rest of the way to Ottery St. Catchpole in relative silence, flying high enough for even a minimal charm to keep them hidden. Soon the lopsided dilapidated structure of the Burrow became visible. Ron felt a twinge. It was home, but also a reminder that his family was poor by wizarding standards and practically destitute by the standards of pure blood families. They landed a distance away, together, and Ron stowed their brooms once again. "I think I see what Harry sees in this place," said Seamus with a grin."You do?""It's brilliant. Magic. Oozes it the same way Hogwarts does.""Oh," said Ron. He'd never really thought of it that way. "I guess. Well, it's been the Weasley home forever."Seamus pulled him close. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, sweet. I'm successful, not rich. And you're a Quidditch star, with money of your own now. Don't be ashamed of this. Grew up in a Muggle home, didn't I? Smaller than this by quite a bit, I reckon, and we never had a lot.""I..."Seamus kissed him then, deep and passionate and full of emotion and want. "I love you, sweet."Ron stood for a moment eyes closed and lips parted as though aching for the loss of Seamus' lips on his. He took a breath and then another and then, slowly, he opened his eyes again. "Ready, yeah?"Ron nodded, and walked with him the rest of the way to the house. The outside of the house was quiet, save for the occasional gnome in the gardens. Ron smiled when they reached the wards, noting with pleasure that they acknowledged Seamus as a Weasley. Seamus, oblivious and unaware of the invisible line they'd crossed as they approached, only smiled as Ron grasped his hand and squeezed.Ron noted a tiny grove as they approached, quietly and silently, but left it for later. This would be difficult enough without doing that first. He did lean against Seamus for a moment as they passed it by, and wiped the start of a tear away. Seamus seemed to sense his distress, wrapping an arm around him and hugging him close. They entered the house just shy of tea time to find find Molly at the stove preparing a little something and the tea service already set. "Mum," said Ron softly.Molly didn't say anything, looking him over and the young man at his side. "Well, who is this then?" she asked."This is Seamus Finnigan, Mum. I know you've met before. He was in my year, Mum, at Hogwarts."Molly barely gave him a glance, instead looking at Ron, a disapproving scowl on her face. "The Prophet says the divorce was final a month ago.""The Prophet is guessing based on when Hermione signed the papers," said Ron. "I told you, Mum. Hermione knew. For a long time she's known.""How long?""Long enough for the Prophet to be thinking the divorce was final a month ago. Legally, I expect, knowing Hermione, it was."Molly tried to school her scowl, but it was a losing battle. She looked at Seamus, "I'm sorry dear. It's. It's just hard watching him go through this," she said. "I'm sorry to be airing such things in... well, it's not very appropriate of me. Gryffindor, you know, don't always...""It's okay, Mrs. Weasley," said Seamus smoothly, taking her hand and gently kissing the back of it. "I, too, am Gryffindor.""Oh. Oh, how lovely," said Molly, blushing slightly. "Well. I don't believe any of those horrid things they wrote about you in the Prophet, dear."Seamus swallowed and hesitated just a moment before responding. "You should, Mrs. Weasley," he said. "I'm rather afraid most of it is true."Molly glanced at Ron for a moment, trying to read something in his eyes, before fixing her lips in a tight line. "Your father should be here shortly, Ronald," she said firmly. "And the Finnigan family should be here soon also. They're using the Floo and I'm afraid, young Mister Finnigan, that your father is rather unhappy.""Da didn't know the fireplace was a Floo," said Seamus. "Never very comfortable with Mum being a witch.""Half-blood?"Seamus nodded. "Da didn't know until after they married. Bit of a nasty shock for him, I reckon. Didn't help with me being a wizard, too."Molly's wince at the word 'married' was obvious, her furious scowl at Ron at the word anything but subtle.Molly directed Ron to help with the preparations for tea, which Ron did without complaint. Finally there was a flash from the fire and Arthur Weasley emerged, dusting soot off himself. He looked up at Ron, his face set in a firm line not unlike Molly's. Ron hugged him anyway."Dad, this is Seamus Finnigan. He was with me at Hogwarts, in Gryffindor."Arthur nodded. "I hope those stories in the Prophet about you are exaggerations," said Arthur, as he extended his hand.Seamus took it and shook firmly, "I'm very sorry, but they're closer than the truth than I'd like."Arthur looked at the remains of the bruising from the beating. "Looks like St. Mungo's patched you up well enough."Seamus nodded. "They did.""Dad, I'm sure Seamus doesn't need you fussing at him over what the Prophet says. We've all watched them lie enough over the years...""Yes, yes, alright," said Arthur, taking the paper from his pocket and playfully hitting Ron with it over his head. "I know." Arthur set the paper down and looked at Ron. "I wish you'd come to me, son. You could have worked things out with Hermione. I know you could have.""No, Dad," said Ron. "I really don't think I could."Arthur grunted something wordless in response and then went to greet Molly.There was not much conversation before tea. Instead there was a lot of awkwardness. Glares. Frowns. Scowls. Half started words. Questioning glances while rereading the articles in the paper. Ron felt a little like he had after telling his Mum that he'd not be returning to Hogwarts for his Seventh Year. They'd all sat for NEWT levels after, of course, but his parents never really forgave him for it.The Finnigan family arriving didn't help matters. Seamus' mum didn't look the part of a witch, dressed rather like Petunia Dursley on an average day, the epitome of a suburban housewife, and his father, who was clearly the source of his sandy hair, had a red face that looked rather more angry than should be usual. Both were clearly uncomfortable in the magic soaked environment of the Burrow. Arthur and Molly were perfect hosts, however, offering the warmth and comforts of their home with humility and sincerity. Shortly everyone was seated around a low table for tea, holding saucers and biscuits and talking around the issues of the day. When the conversation turned to the uncomfortable winter chill for the third time, Ron had finally had enough. He glanced at Seamus and then looked at everyone."Mister and Mrs. Finnigan, thank you again for coming. I know. I'm sure it couldn't have been comfortable for you, Mister Finnigan. My friend Harry shares your aversion to the Floo.""I just. I bleedin' wish someone would tell me what this is about," said Mister Finnigan. "Important she said," he gestured at Molly, his tea sloshing over into the saucer, "appearing out of nowhere in green flames. And here I am and my son, my son who has clearly been beaten near as bad as he was that awful final year he was in school, is sitting here and I don't even know...""Da," said Seamus. "I'm sorry. I didn't. Mum didn't tell me you were getting the Prophet or I would have told you.""Shay," said Mister Finnigan. "You should sue that paper. They said. They said that you're a bit of a nancy boy. Something about an affair in school.""It was rather more than an affair, Da."Mister Finnigan's red face paled to white. "It was. It was true?""Yeah, Da. It's true.""Did... did the boy seduce you?" asked Mister Finnigan, his face clearly showing that he was unsure what he hoped for the answer to be.Ron laughed. "Rather the opposite, really.""And what'd you know about it boy?" asked Mister Finnigan sharply."Given I was the one seduced, quite a bit," said Ron. "Though I have to say the seduction was rather consensual."Mister Finnigan shook in anger. "Seamus Finnigan! You told me you were a famous playboy. A hero. That... that you were sought after!""I am. I was. Da, please," said Seamus."It was a schoolboy fancy though, right?" asked Mrs. Finnigan, her hand clasped on her husband's."No, Mum," said Seamus, "it was more than that.""I don't understand," said Arthur. "Ron? You were in a relationship with this boy?"Molly glared at Seamus. "I. I can't forgive you for it. For what you did to him." She looked away."Now wait a minute," said Mrs. Finnigan, "my son didn't turn anyone into a nancy. Your boy already said it was consensual!""That's not what I can't forgive him for!" said Molly, her hands trembling so badly that tea was rapidly accumulating in her saucer."Mum. That's. That's enough," said Ron softly, setting a hand on Seamus' thigh, grateful when Seamus set his own hand over Ron's."What did he do then?" asked Mister Finnigan, "That he should be worrying about forgiveness after all this time.""Perhaps," said Arthur quietly, "we all need to quiet down and let the boys speak. It looks fairly obvious they still care for each other.""He...""Mum, don't," said Ron, sharply enough to make even his own mum hesitate. "That's private. Between Shay and me. And I have forgiven him for it."Both sets of parents were looking at Ron now, Mister Finnigan looking rather disgusted at the hands on Seamus' thigh."I just," Ron's voice was very quiet. "I wanted you to hear this from us.""What?" said Mister Finnigan. "That my boy is a nancy?""I suppose that's part of it," said Seamus, the words clearly coming with difficulty.Mister Finnigan rose to his feet. "Seamus Finnigan, are you saying that you are a nancy? That you're with this... this...""It's... Da. It's Finnigan Weasley."There was a clatter of broken china as Molly dropped her tea cup. Arthur managed to hold on to his, though his knuckles showed white and a fine crack appeared along the handle of the cup. Mrs. Finnigan looked in total shock at her son, and Mister Finnigan just stood, jaw hanging open.The Muggle stood there for a few moments, blinking and looking at his son without any words to express himself."We got married, Da. It was a magical contract and he's a famous hero, so it's beyond hope that the press doesn't know. It'll be in the papers tonight. We," Seamus looked into Ron's eyes, "we wanted you to hear it from us."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------It was several minutes before anyone else recovered enough to say anything. Minutes where Seamus drew strength and fortitude from the Ron's bright blue eyes, from the hand still held in his that rested on his thigh. Finally Molly came to her senses and pulled her wand, mending the cup and saucer and sending both back into the kitchen. Arthur quietly set his cup down on the table and held his hand over his mouth, rocking back and forth in his chair softly. Mrs. Finnigan just stared at Seamus, and Mister Finnigan collapsed backward into his chair, which creaked ominously but held."M-married, Ron?" asked Molly after another awkward minute.Ron nodded. "Tenetur simul aeternum," he said quietly."Bound together forever," whispered Arthur. "Ron?""I love him, Dad. I have since I was fourteen.""What about Hermione?""We divorced Dad. She knew.""But it's so soon, Ron," said Molly. "And after what he did to you...""Mum. I told you, that's private."Seamus squeezed Ron's hand against his thigh. "I was wrong, Mrs. Weasley. What I did to him. It was wrong. I hurt him, and I'm sorry.""Seamus," said Mrs. Finnigan, her face showing her struggle as she searched for what to ask and failed. "Why?""I love him, Mum.""But he's...""He's beautiful," said Seamus. "Hair like fire. Eyes... look at them, Mum, just that perfect blue. They're... he's just. He's beautiful." Seamus looked right at Ron, "He makes me so happy. I just don't have words.""Seamus, son," said Mister Finnigan, "what about... you had girlfriends. I know you did. It was why you got beaten up, wasn't it?""But it was Ron who sat by my bedside after. It was Ron who helped me get past my addiction. To ecstasy. To crystal meth," he looked at his mum. "To dust and to phyre and potency potions and meaningless sex with women and men who I didn't care about and often didn't even know their names... are you getting a hint here? He's seen me at my very worst, and he still. He wants me. He loves me. He's my husband. It's a magic contract, Da. It's done. We," he hesitated and then looked right at his father. "We weren't asking permission.""Ron," said Arthur seriously, "don't you think this will hurt Hermione? I mean you...""Yes, Dad. I hurt Hermione. I hate that I did it. She's carrying our daughter, and I left her alone. And I promised her that nothing was going on with Shay, and it was a lie. We weren't sleeping together, not then, but I was still... I was still loving him, even without that. And that sort of cheating is worse than the physical, if you ask me." Ron sighed. "But she knew, Dad.""But your daughter, Ron," said Arthur. "You haven't thought this...""I have. I made my choice, Dad. I chose Shay," said Ron. "I won't say it was easy. I love 'Mione. She's a right brilliant witch, best of our generation, I reckon. But Dad," Ron shook his head, "loving Hermione doesn't change how I feel about Shay. He's my life."Seamus stood up. "Da, I know this is a shock for you. And Mum. I know you probably had dreams of me taking a pretty girl down the aisle someday. I don't mean to make life difficult for either of you. I love him, Da. He's my husband. I hope. I hope you'll be acceptin' that, 'cause it's not likely to be changin' ever." He set a hand on Ron's shoulder. "I know you probably don't care, Da. But this is Ronald Weasley. He's one of the biggest heroes our world has. Saved our world. Literally. I consider it a great honor and privilege to be loved by such a man. To call him my husband. I intend to share my life with him."Ron looked up at him adoringly, leaning against the arm set on his shoulder. After a moment Ron stood, dislodging the hand on his shoulder, but quickly wrapping one of his own around Seamus' waist. "Mister Finnigan, Mrs. Finnigan," he said, "I know I'm not what you imagined for an in-law. I'm certainly not a pretty girl to be walked down the aisle. But I bound myself to your son forever. I did it because I love him. And I hope, someday soon, you'll find that that's enough." He leaned against Seamus and kissed him lightly on the cheek, doing his best to ignore the expression of disgust on Mister Finnigan's face."Mum," said Ron softly, "Dad. I'm going to take Seamus for a walk. Maybe it would help for you all to talk to each other. You're family now. That's not going to change." He led Seamus out of the room then, and out of the house, breathing a silent prayer that the house wouldn't explode as their parents began to scream accusations at each other, with Seamus' mum and Arthur doing their best to mitigate the screams of Molly and Mister Finnigan."They'll kill each other," said Seamus, leaning hard against Ron as they reached the outdoors."Better each other than us!" said Ron jokingly. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Let them talk it out, okay? We told them. That's what we came to do.""Your mum hates me.""I lost the baby over Easter. Mum had to see it. Me hurt that way.""How... I mean. Do you know?""Floo shock," said Ron choking back a sob. "I. I wanted to show you something."Seamus looked at him, puzzled, but followed him as Ron led him to a small grove."You. You almost stopped here, when we came in," said Seamus quietly.Ron didn't say anything, he just nodded. "Sweet?"Ron's hand held his a little tighter. "I don't stop here as often as I should," he said quietly. "Come with me. Please?"Seamus followed him into a tiny clearing. There was a marker of pure white stone, letters etched carefully, beautifully into it. Seamus felt the pulse of protective magic hit him and seek for something inside him. He felt its anger and the raw force of its power as it raked over his soul looking and then finding something and letting him go. Ron seemed unaffected. "What was that?" asked Seamus.Ron didn't say anything. He walked unsteadily up to the stone and fell to his knees."Ron," said Seamus setting a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Sweet are you..." His breath caught then, as he came close enough to read the stone. He fell limply to his knees next to Ron."Sweetness..."Ron's hand sought and found Seamus' hand, and he squeezed it very hard. The tears flowed from him, silently, trailing down his face."It was Easter break. Floo shock, even with the potion. I'd been so careful, but I couldn't. They didn't know I wasn't supposed to Floo. I was fourteen, I... I couldn't tell them," said Ron. "Mum fire called Madam Pomfrey and she... she tried to deliver the baby to save him, even that early.""You conceived our first time, didn't you?"Ron nodded, wiping absently at his nose. "Yeah.""Over four months, Ron? How did you keep that secret? Why did you wait so long to..."Ron looked at Seamus, the tear trails gleaming in the light."I'm... oh, Ron, sweet..." Seamus hugged him tight. "I'm so sorry. I'm so... I'm so sorry."Ron collapsed in his arms then, held and protected, and he allowed himself for the first time in a very long time to feel the loss and the pain, to feel it in his bones. Dimly he knew that his mother could hear his anguished cries. Dimly he was aware that they came to the grove, all of them, his parents and Seamus'. Dimly he took note of Seamus crying quietly with him.They knelt there in the cold for an hour as the sun set and darkness settled over the Burrow. Seamus gazed at the white stone. He couldn't see the letters anymore, not in the darkness, but he'd never forget them. Sean Fabian Weasley. The name given his son. The one that they'd lost. His hand found his wand and whispered the words of a warming charm, banishing the chill of the winter night. He wrapped his arms around Ron and held him. Ron would stay here as long as he needed. And this time Seamus would be here to share the pain with him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Vaguely Ron was aware of people outside the grove watching. He knew it had been a long time, with him collapsed against Seamus, letting himself feel his grief. He tightened his arms around the body that held him, pulled himself close.Seamus did not ask anything of him. He was crying too, the trail of his tears showing as a gleaming path on his face in the moonlight. Ron leaned back to look at Seamus, caressing the man's face with the light touch of a forefinger dragged softly along the line of his chin."I'm sorry, sweet, so sorry that I wasn't...""I meant it," said Ron softly, "when I said I forgave you. I did, and I do.""Sweet. You... you named him?""He was born alive, Shay. I'm. I'm not meant to know. I was unconscious. Charlie... he tells me I held little Sean in my arms," Ron grasped hold of Seamus tightly, too tightly, his hand wrapped tight around Seamus' bicep. "Three days. He lived and breathed for three days. But my body... I was in shock from the birth, unconscious all that time.""Charlie's a good brother, sweet.""I know." Ron looked at Seamus. "He was the one who helped me make this grove to remember.""I'm glad you have someplace to remember," said Seamus very quietly."No," said Ron, shaking his head, "for us to remember.""I... I wouldn't take that away from you, sweet," said Seamus, wiping at a tear.Ron smiled softly, his tear streaked face somehow more beautiful for the tears. "You're not taking anything away. You're sharing the grief with me. And the love. He. He was our son, Shay."Seamus blinked back tears. "I would have been here. You know that right? If anyone had...""I know. I wish. I wish I had believed it then," Ron leaned his forehead against Seamus'. "Normally when you get married in pure blood circles... you're supposed to acknowledge the children of your blood. I won't ask you to. But, Shay. He was yours.""Ours," said Seamus softly. "He was ours. And we would have loved him. Together." He took out his wand and whispered a word, pointing the wand at the small white marker. "I acknowledge the child of my blood, and of yours, both the child lost, and the child you bear." He looked into Ron's eyes. "You're sure, sweetness?""He was ours."Seamus kissed him on the forehead. "Oh sweetness," he whispered, as he pointed his wand again at the marker, rewriting words on stone. *Sean Fabian Finnigan Weasley*. "I love you."Ron hugged him again, and tears flowed briefly. "They're waiting for us.""Let them wait," said Seamus, "until you're ready."Ron smiled and kissed him, standing up and helping Seamus to his feet. They walked out together, hand in hand. Outside the grove their parents were waiting. Arthur, looking concerned at Ron. Molly, who looked at Seamus with uncertain eyes. The Finnigans who looked puzzled, both of them."Sorry, Mum," said Ron quietly, wiping at half-dried tear trails with the sleeve of his jumper.Molly shook her head and hugged him. "Are you you alright?"Ron nodded. "I think. I think I will be this time."Seamus squeezed Ron's hand and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then released him and walked over to his parents. He embraced his mum, hugging her close, then turned to his dad."I love you, Da.""You really married this boy?"Seamus nodded. "He loves me. Even at my worst, he still loves me."His dad grunted and then seized him in a hug. "I just want what's best for you. You know that.""I know. Give him a chance, Da." His dad clapped him on the back one final time and headed back towards the house. His mum looked at him and then glanced at the marker. "Is that?"Seamus nodded."A baby, Seamus?""I'm sorry.""Your Da, he won't understand," she said, shaking her head sadly."Would he rather not know his grandchildren?"She reached up and cupped her hand against his face and hugged him. "I will try," she said. "Your Da can be rather stubborn.""So can me Mum," said Seamus. "His name was Sean. Da had a grandson, Mum. Maybe if he understood that."She closed her eyes. "I will try." She turned and walked over to the Weasleys, thanking them for their hospitality and begging for the indulgence to use their Floo, which they gave readily. Then she turned to Ron and hugged him inexplicably and rushed up the path to catch up to her husband.Seamus walked slowly back toward Ron as Molly and Arthur headed into the grove to pay their respects. When he reached Ron he wrapped his arms around him and leaned into him gently. "Not exactly how I'd hoped it would go," he said to Ron."Shay, love, they'll. It'll get better.""We still have days if not weeks of Howlers to look forward to," said Seamus seriously."Bugger," said Ron. "You're right." Seamus closed his eyes for a few moments, keeping his arms wrapped around Ron. He heard the footsteps behind him, but he kept his eyes closed."Were you going to take the Floo home right off or did you want dinner first?" asked Molly."Thought we'd stay the night, actually, Mum," said Ron. "You're always complaining we don't take the time to properly visit anymore."She put her hands on her hips and was about to say something when Arthur came up behind her. "They're right, dear. You do. And I think under the circumstances, it's best we get to know his young man, don't you?""Thanks, Dad," said Ron. "I appreciate that."Arthur and Molly started up the path to the house, leaving Ron alone with Seamus."It could have gone worse," said Seamus, reaching a hand into the soft fullness of Ron's hair while the other pulled them tight together."I'm still with you," said Ron, his breath kissing against Seamus' face. "I can still do this," he leaned in and kissed Seamus tenderly. Seamus returned the kiss eagerly, deeply. "Wanted you all day, sweet," he said, his hand slipping beneath Ron's jumper to touch the soft bare flesh of his back.Ron let his head fall back, reveling in the soft kisses Seamus placed on the skin of his neck and throat. "So good, love. We're going to spend a whole day in bed, my firecracker, just as soon as we get back to the Cottage.""Mmm," mumbled Seamus, nibbling at his ear. "Is that a promise?""Merlin, yes!" said Ron, "want that... want it so much."Seamus placed a final kiss against his neck and let him go, his hand grabbing hold of Ron's. "Dinner, with your parents, sweet."Ron nodded reluctantly, walking slowly in the night air back to the house.Dinner was awkward. Molly's anger bled through into the conversation right from the start. There were many comments about Hermione, glowing comments about how radiant she looked. About how perfect she was. Ron smiled at all of them, agreeing readily. That just made Molly more angry. Why, she wanted to know, why did he want this troubled boy if he knew, if he understood why Hermione was so good for him.Seamus felt very small. He was aware of the looks of sympathy from Arthur, but the comments were still hard to take. He managed as best he could as Ron deflected Molly's comments. He stayed quiet. He listened to Ron speak lovingly of Hermione and of the child they were having together. He endured the glares from Molly."Just stop it, Mum," said Ron his patience, never his strongest suit, at an end. His hand sought Seamus' to stroke his fingers. "I know you'd prefer Hermione, alright. I don't care.""You don't care!" thundered Molly, her temper flaring again. "She's carrying your baby!"Ron grew silent and Seamus could sense as much as feel the soft sob that filled Ron's body. Seamus was about to speak out, to beg her to stop when Ron began to talk. His voice was soft and so quiet it was almost a whisper. He spoke then of Seamus. Of his smile and his mischievous grin. Of sitting with him by the fire and being held. Of watching him sculpt fire and the beauty she'd never known or seen. He spoke of Seamus' touch and of his lips and of the feel of his hair. He spoke of Dementors and watching Seamus stand against them, the silver fox of his Patronus holding them back. He spoke of the Cannons and the Kestrels and of friendly arguments they'd shared about their passion for Quidditch. He spoke of exploding snap and games in the dorms and of the lingering glances and touches held too long and of a first kiss and how it had made him feel.Seamus blushed, his face flushed and hot, but Ron did not stop. He spoke of fearful moments and stolen kisses. He spoke of fumbled couplings and secret romances. He spoke of falling asleep by the fire in each other's arms and of the fear they'd had that someone had seen. Of how he'd wished secretly that someone had. That he could proclaim it to everyone.Molly tried to interrupt but Ron was not done. He spoke of the baby and of the loss and of his regrets. Regret that he hadn't given Seamus the chance to be there. Of his certainty that, given the opportunity to do what was right that Seamus would have grieved with him. He spoke of the loss he'd felt and how he'd tried to move on. He spoke of Hermione and their reconciliation and his love for her bled from his words.Then he began to speak of what no one else saw. Of his heart break every time he saw Seamus. Of the pain of seeing him with someone else, of watching the constant unending stream of uncaring sex. Of the quiet elation he'd felt when Dean had confessed that Seamus had lost a love in school and never recovered. Then he spoke of Seamus in bed, track marks down his arms, broken and cursed and hopelessly addicted to drugs. Of quiet evenings nursing him back to health. Of the night spent in tears when he'd realized that Seamus had been coming back to him when he'd lost the baby. That Seamus had turned away from him in anger because he thought that Ron had terminated the pregnancy out of bitterness.He spoke of his own torture at the romantic stirrings within. Of his painful choices to stay with Seamus and risk the rekindling. Of his determination through it all to be faithful to Hermione. He spoke of his failures and of Seamus firmly pushing him away, over and over as they strayed too close to the line. He spoke of his failure in the shower and of holding Seamus inside him and of how much he'd wanted it when Seamus had been the one to pull away and stop.Molly's mouth hung open, speechless for the first time, and still Ron kept talking. He spoke of their parting and the return of his heartbreak. He spoke of his struggle and of trying to be the husband he'd wanted to be while realizing all the while that he was in love with someone else and that it wouldn't change, couldn't change. He spoke of his pain when he realized Seamus had started seeing other people, had been having sex with other people. He quietly spoke of their nights together, clothed in bed and asleep in the arms of the other. He spoke of difficult talks with Hermione and his fear that it was too late. He spoke of half-truths and of the continued nights with Seamus, clothed, entangled, and of how he prayed for them even while making love to Hermione. He spoke of the moment when he'd found out Seamus had been beaten, of the tortured run to St. Mungo's from Grimmauld Place, so upset he couldn't find the determination to apparate. He spoke of seeing Seamus bruised and battered and near death in St. Mungo's, of how the sight tore his heart, of how he knew and the moment of his decision.He spoke of that night, of his surrender to Seamus. Of the sandy haired beauty trying one last time to push him away. Of why it wasn't weak to choose what he needed. Of his certainty that just that one night together had been worth whatever consequences they might suffer."Everyone has told me why it's wrong, Mum," he said quietly. He reached over to hold Seamus' hand. "This is why it's right. I love him." He stood up and looked at his mum. "I hope... I hope someday you'll understand. We'll leave in the morning." He led Seamus out of the kitchen then, and toward the stairs. Before they could head up he found his arm caught in the grasp of his father. "Dad."Arthur seized him in a hug. "I'm sorry, son. I'll. Don't worry. I'll sort out your mum."Ron hugged back gratefully. "Thanks, Dad."He turned to head up the stairs, but Arthur stepped forward again. He looked a little sternly at Seamus and held out his hand. "Welcome to the family, son," he said. Seamus grasped his hand in turn and found himself also pulled into a hug. "Th-thank you, sir."Arthur let him go and clasped him on the shoulder. "Take good care of my boy.""I will.""Good. Well, I'll let you get to it. Won't see you in the morning. I'll be off to work before either of you are up, I imagine. Don't want you to think it's a slight.""No, sir. I understand," said Seamus. "Sir. I do love him."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------The first of the Howlers lay sputtering, angry, on the table when they came down in the morning for breakfast. Ron groaned softly and wished he'd dared to stay with Seamus in the childhood bed they'd hastily transfigured wider the night before. He sighed, tugged at his Weasley jumper, and walked up to the table."Leave them, sweet," said Seamus, setting hands against Ron's hips."You can't leave a Howler," said Ron, his eyes wide.Seamus stepped past him to the table and tapped the red envelopes with his wand, each of them, muttering words under his breath and twisting his wand as though gathering the fire they sputtered around his wand. He kept twisting and muttering and gradually the envelopes faded from red to pink, and then white. He pointed his wand at the Floo and whispered a word, letting the vituperative fire of everyone's anger detonate in the fireplace. There was a flash of brightness as the fire roared and then returned slowly to normal."There, sweet," said Seamus "We can read them later. It's too early to deal with that sort of anger."Ron grinned broadly at him. "I love you," said Ron, sweeping the Irishman into his arms and kissing him soundly. "I know," said Seamus laughing as he kissed Ron back and slipped out of his arms. "Breakfast, sweetness.""Potions first," said Ron, pulling the vials of pain killers from his pockets and setting them on the table. "Drink. Best to get it over with, that way breakfast will help get rid of the taste."Seamus frowned and scrunched up his face as he drank the potions, handing the bottles back to Ron when he was done. "Happy?""I'd rather you didn't have to take them at all," said Ron softly, his fingers finding the edges of one of the many bruises still marked on Seamus' face. "I... I still wish you'd tell me who hurt you. I hate thinking it was Oliver that did this to you."Seamus caught Ron's fingers. "I deserved it, sweet.""No. No, you didn't.""Yes," said Seamus softly. "I did.""He almost killed you!""Shh," said Seamus, kissing him gently. "I'm here. I'm with you. Now, here," he set a hand on Ron's stomach. "This is what matters."Ron smiled at him and scooped up the no-longer-quite-Howlers. "Breakfast, my firecracker."Seamus waggled his eyebrows and set about making breakfast. Having grown up Muggle, he was actually rather handy in the kitchen, and shortly he was setting a rather full plate in front of Ron."I can't eat all this!""Nonsense," said Seamus. "You forget I lived with you for a lot of years in school. You were always a bottomless pit when it came to food." He glanced meaningfully at Ron's stomach. "Besides. Our little one is hungry too."Ron shrugged and tucked in, shoving food into his mouth with obvious pleasure. "Didn't tell me you could cook," he said, punching Seamus playfully in the arm."Well, we can't always call on that almost bound elf of yours.""Oi! Don't say that near 'Mione, she'll kill me.""I'll have plenty of occasion to be near your ex-wife, will I?" said Seamus.Ron got quiet."Oh, sweet," said Seamus, watching his face fall. "I'm sorry. I didn't..."Ron shook his head. "It's fine.""I didn't mean. Of course you still want to see her. She was one of your best friends." Seamus ruffled his hair. "I'm not threatened. I'm not. She should be in your life, you love her."Ron was quiet, but returned to his food while Seamus continued cooking, surprising Mrs. Weasley by setting coffee and a plate in front of her as she walked in and then finally setting a plate for himself and joining them."This is lovely," said Molly. "Ronnie never learned to cook.""I've spent years being entertained with tales of your brilliant cooking, Mrs. Weasley. If learning to cook meant not getting that cooking, I'd probably have avoided it too."Mrs. Weasley smiled despite herself. "Well. I expected to hear screaming.""Howler's you mean," said Seamus."You know I'm not the only one unhappy," said Molly frankly.Ron nodded. "We got fifteen," said Ron tossing them on the table."Well, these aren't Howlers, dear," she said, flipping through the letters."They were," said Seamus. "A Howler is a type of firecracker, really," he continued, "as much as it's a letter. A lot of fire magic goes into making a Howler."Molly looked at him. "I still don't like it. You hurt him.""Mum!""I did. I should have been here. I would have been here. He's not wrong, you know. If I'd been given a chance, asked if I could. I would have shared that grief with him. Mourned our son.""I saw what you did," she said. "To Sean's marker."Ron interjected then. "Pure blood rites call for him to acknowledge his son, Mum. You can't be angry at him for that.""I was proud," said Seamus softly, "to acknowledge our son. To share my name with him."Molly shook her head. "What about...""What about just loving me," said Ron in frustration. "Do you want to lose me like you lost Charlie! Never seeing me 'cause you hate my husband? Is that what you want!""I...""Think about it, Mum," said Ron, pulling his wand and summoning his belongings. "Because it's not just me you're not going to see." Ron stormed out of the house.Molly glared at Seamus. "As if I'd miss seeing you," she said viciously."I love your son, Mrs. Weasley," said Seamus, trying to contain his fury as he gathered up the small pile of letters, "but I rather expect he was talking about your grandson. The one he carries in his belly. The reason we came by broom and not Floo."He ran into the cold air, ignoring her soft gasp, and cast his eyes about looking for Ron, but the man's fiery hair was no where to be seen. "Ron!" he shouted, then pressed his wand to his throat, "Ron!" the magically enhanced sound echoed over the Burrow. But Ron didn't respond. It had snowed late that night and into the morning and the ground was covered with a fresh blanket of white. Seamus shook from the cold. "Ron!" he shouted, looking for footprints. But there were none. "Fucking hell, Ron," mumbled Seamus, his eyes darting for signs of Ron's passage.He'd want to say goodbye. He was mad at his mum and not planning to return to the Burrow for a long time, maybe not ever. He'd want to say goodbye.Seamus sprinted towards the grove at the edge of the property, noting the cold with dismay, Ron had left in just a jumper. He was about halfway there when he heard the thunderous crack and the scream of pain. And then there was an ominous silence. Seamus ran faster.Ron lay in the snow near the blasted shape of the marker, the ground splattered with blood. A hunk of blood covered white stone lay in the grass next to him. He was bleeding severely from his face and skull, his eyes closed, his breathing erratic.Seamus shook him gently. "Ron? Please..."But Ron did not move. Seamus fell to his knees next to him. "Oh god, no, Ron, please." He pulled off his jumper and his shirt and pressed the cloth against Ron's head, trying to at least slow the bleeding."Ron.... Sweet?" Seamus felt his skin. Ron was icy from laying in the snow, even from just the passing of a few minutes. Seamus pulled his wand and pressed it gently into Ron's palm, sending tendrils of magic to sense for the baby. He breathed a tangible sigh of relief as he sensed their child's presence, weak, pulsing, but there. "Ron! Oh God, Ron. Fuck."He wrapped them both in a cocoon of fire and heat and then pointed his wand. The spell on his lips was fire and power and urgency "*Nuntius ignis avis*!"The spell was beautiful, there was never any denying of that. Like the Patronus spell so favored by the Order of the Phoenix, it was a near instantaneous means of sending a message, a beautiful conjuration of flame, spreading its wings of prismatic fire and streaking a trail of flame that split in several directions."Hold on sweet," said Seamus desperately, "Hold on."The crack of apparition surrounded him then, one after another. Weasleys. Ginny and Charlie and George and another man Seamus didn't recognize but guessed to be Mikhael. George and Charlie hauled Seamus away from Ron as Ginny and Mikhael knelt next to him and began casting spells."No!" shouted Seamus, struggling against the bulky strength of the dragon keeper as they pulled out potion bottles. "He's... he's pregnant."Ginny and Mikhael looked at each other, eyes wide and then there was shuffling as Ron was lightened and George helped them carry him from the grove. Charlie remained, still holding on to Seamus."Where are they taking him?""You can trust Mikhael to protect them both," said Charlie. "He knows what it is to have that loss. We both do. What happened?""Your mother happened," said Seamus bitterly. "They had a row. He ran out of the house. I followed, but not in time. It was a rather serious row." Seamus glanced meaningfully to the marker where the name 'Weasley' had been blasted from the stone. Charlie shook his head. "He loves you a lot to stand up to Mum," he said."Did you?"Charlie shook his head. "They don't even know he's my husband.""Fuck! I should be with my husband!""Married him, did you?"Seamus nodded."Good. Go. Don't let my mum get in your way." Charlie let him go and tossed him the crumpled Weasley jumper. "Go!"Seamus pulled the jumper on as he ran for the house. It was warm but itchy without a shirt underneath. Still, in this cold he was grateful for it. Charlie watched him go, lifting the chunk of bloody rock from the ground. "Oh, Ronnie." He sighed and waved his wand, cool quiet power knitting the stone back together. He stood there for a moment, looking at the stone. "Your dad's a good bloke, Sean. I wish he could have met you." Then with a crack he was gone.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus found Ron in the kitchen at the Burrow. They had him laid out on the table, half-naked and Ginny and Mikhael were both casting spells rapidly on him, one after another. Every so often Mikhael's hand would still Ginny's and shake his head, murmuring something to her.Molly burst into the kitchen, her hands on her face. "Ron!" She rushed into the kitchen but was held back by George, who caught her and pulled her back. "Let me go!" Molly pushed further in, enough to see the damage to his face and skull. She fell to the floor and screamed."Fucking get her out of here," shouted Mikhael, not looking up as he pointed his wand and whispered another spell.Seamus stood, trembling, huddled in a corner. He was still like that, unmoved, when they finally finished working. He wasn't sure how long it had been. He was vaguely aware that the sun had set. That George had checked on him several times. He knew that everyone was here. Harry, Neville, even Hermione had arrived, driven all the way from London by car. They were waiting, all of them, in the living room for news, where Molly fretted.Ginny stepped away from Ron and walked over to him squatting down next to him. "Seamus?"He looked up at her, the trail of his tears raw. He tried to find words but just nodded. "You'll be pleased to know that my brother's thick skull has finally served a worthwhile purpose. He'll be okay, Seamus.""The b-baby?"Mikhael glanced up. "Healthy, Mister Finnigan. I won't lie to you, we almost lost both of them. Bits of bone from the injury entered his blood and had to be found and removed. It would be deadly to miss any, for both of them. It was a serious injury and there were a lot of bits to locate and dispose of." He looked at Seamus and held his eyes for a minute. "You got the call out in time to save him. He'll be several days recovering, though.""Can I... can I sit with him?"Mikhael nodded. "You should," he said pulling out one of the chairs and raising it so that Seamus could sit level with Ron. He whispered the last bit. "The boy loves you to be challenging Molly. Charlie would never do it, not even for me."Ginny stood with him, casting diagnostic spells that hung in the air. Where before the circles had all been red, now they were filled with greens and yellows. Ginny noted the ones that represented the baby, and then asked him to alert them if any of them flashed red, even for an instant. Then she grasped his hand. "He loves you, Seamus. Take good care of him."Both Ginny and Mikhael left him alone then with Ron, heading into the living room to speak to the family. Seamus looked at his love's face. They'd lovingly reconstructed the crushed portions. The work was delicate and beautifully done. Other than him only Hermione and Molly would ever be likely to notice the subtle differences, the marks that weren't there, the tiny scars. The sobs finally came. He'd held them back all day. He'd wanted to be strong for Ron in case... in case Ron had woken up and needed Seamus to be strong. The door opened again and Hermione stepped in. "They're only letting us in one at a time," she said quietly. "I promised not to row."Seamus looked up to see an equally tear streaked face. He shook his head and transfigured a second chair on the opposite side. "He'd want you here," said Seamus softly. "He loves you."She sat across from him, setting a hand over one of Ron's. "Ginny says you saved him. Calling for everyone at once. No one even recognized the spell.""You did, I bet," said Seamus."I didn't know. I mean, I knew you'd learned some pyromancy, but a Master of Fire?"Seamus shrugged. "Does it matter?""Things changed with him. Fourth year. He got distant and I wanted him to want me. Tried to make him jealous. But he was with you, wasn't he?"Seamus swallowed and nodded. "He was beautiful," he said, squeezing Ron's hand gently.Hermione nodded. "I know."They sat there quietly for a little while, holding Ron's hand, each of them, and then Hermione disappeared and Harry came in. Harry didn't stay long and didn't say much... encouraging words, but brief. A look at Seamus and then at Ron's stomach that told him that Harry knew. And then Harry was gone with a parting, "Take care of both of them, yeah?"Neville's stay was even briefer. His glare at Seamus was troubled, uncertain. He didn't speak, just sat for a little while, watching and then departed without a word.He could hear arguing in the other room. He didn't need to guess. Molly wanted to see Ron. She was easy to hear over everyone else really.The door opened and Seamus expected to see her, but the person who came through was Arthur. He sat down across from Seamus and stroked his son's face. He looked up at Seamus and it was clear he'd been crying. "This was my fault, son," he said looking at Seamus. "I promised to talk to Molly and I thought I had time. I'm sorry. I hope... I mean. I hope you'll forgive us someday.""He blasted the Weasley name off of Sean's marker.""I know.""Do you have any idea how hurt he'd have to... he's a Weasley. He might be embarrassed about money sometimes, but he was proud of the family."Arthur wiped a tear from his eye. "I know. We failed him. I... I hope he'll forgive us."They sat quietly for a long time. Finally Arthur spoke quietly. "I have no right to ask, I know. But, Molly, she...""She wants to see him.""She's his mother," said Arthur. "I. You're his husband. I'll abide by your decision. I'll support it. As I said, I have no right to ask."Seamus nodded. "Briefly."Arthur reached over to catch Seamus by the shoulder. "Thank you, son."Seamus steeled himself for the inevitable. Molly Weasley stepping into the kitchen. She hissed as she saw the array of diagnostic spells still quietly shining their circles of color in the air over him. She moved, quietly, to the chair and sat down. Her face scrunched as she looked him over, the automatic gaze of a mother who knew her son had suffered injury and was determined to find the signs. And looking at his head she found them. The same ones that Seamus himself had noticed. Her eyes closed and Seamus could read prayers on her lips.Molly sat quietly, holding Ron's hand, stroking his hair. Seamus recognized the gestures. They were the same ones he'd been doing over and over again since they'd finally let him sit. He didn't say anything. He let her have her moment to reassure herself that her son was alive."He loves you," said Seamus softly, finally. "That's why he was so upset. Because you were trying to hurt him.""I just didn't want him to throw himself away on...""You don't need to convince me that I don't deserve him," said Seamus. "I know that. I've always known it.""Noooo..." mumbled a voice, groggy. "d-don't s-s-s. I. d-don't s-say that. L-love y-you."Seamus cried out and squeezed Ron's hand. "Sweet?""Ch-chose you. Always. Always choose you.""Ginny!" shouted Seamus loudly. Molly was clutching Ron's hand but was shortly pulled away by Arthur as Mikhael and Ginny descended on the table. "He... he was talking," said Seamus."Making sense?" asked Mikhael."Groggy, like he just woke up in the morning.""Good... that's good," said Mikhael. He walked up to the head of the table and pulled open each eye, staring into it for a brief time.Ron groaned at that and Seamus found himself pushed aside to make room for Ginny. More colored circles danced in the air and Mikhael and Ginny looked at each other and smiled. "He'll need bed rest. A week. He'll miss his Quidditch game, I'm afraid," said Ginny."He'll fight you on that," said Mikhael. "I know Charlie always fought me. But tell him it's for the baby and he'll listen. It's even true, mostly.""You'll have to stay here," said Ginny. "I know, that won't be easy," she cast a knowing glance toward the living room, "but it's too dangerous to travel with a head injury like that, and I wouldn't risk the Floo. Apparition is likely to be even worse. He's always been sensitive, ever since he was splinched so badly." She ran fingers down scars on his arm and shoulder, long faded but still visible if you knew they were there."I...""Hermione is going to talk to Mayer about your potions," continued Ginny. "She felt it'd be better coming from her. I've given her a blood sample, but I'll need one from you as well. He should start daily stabilizing potions next week. And move to three times a day for the duration the week after."Seamus nodded numbly, holding out his arm for her to take the sample. "He'll be alright?"Mikhael nodded. "He will be.""When can he leave this table? I mean, it's a table with a pillow. And I think the pillow used to be a coffee mug. Unless you're all way better at transfiguring things than I am, it can't be comfortable."Mikhael smiled. "I'll help you bring him up now, if you like." "He can... it's safe?""To sleep. I wouldn't do more than that. No matter how much he pleads... not tonight," said Mikhael, grinning as Ginny turned brilliantly red. "Tomorrow. If he's up to it. Be very gentle. But it's good for the baby, as you know, especially this early, for you to have regular sexual contact."Ginny and Mikhael both helped him maneuver a lightened and levitated Ronald Weasley up the creaking staircases of the Burrow to the brilliant orange of Ron's room. Mikhael looked critically at the still widened metal framed bed and deftly transfigured it into something larger and more comfortable. "Don't worry," he joked, "I know you were just trying to manage for a night, but if you're here for a week, he should be comfortable.""Bed rest means bed rest, Seamus. Keep him in bed. Even if you have to do THAT," Ginny shuddered. "It's better than him being out of bed. I know he has one of those crazy freed elves from Hogwarts that helps him. You're married now so she'll probably answer to you too. Might keep you distanced from our mum.""Thank you," said Seamus hugging Ginny and then Mikhael in turn. "I owe you...""He's family," said Mikhael. "And so are you." He looked over to Ginny. "Can I have a moment, Ginny."Ginny nodded. "I have to get back to..." she glanced over her shoulder to make sure Molly and Arthur weren't nearby, "I need to get back to Case. He's probably freaking out. Wasn't time to send a message.""Neville sent one," said Mikhael. "You're safe."Ginny smiled and skipped lightly down the stairs. Mikhael turned to Seamus and looked seriously at him. "It'll be hard. He chose to fight and I can't tell you how lucky... Charlie's a dragon keeper, brave as can be, but in the face of his mum, he crumbles every time. But your Ron, he..."Seamus looked as though he'd cry at any moment."He's going to be fine, Seamus," said Mikhael. "This isn't about this," he gestured to where he'd placed Ron on the bed. Mikhael hesitated for a few moments, chewing on his lip. "You know they never told Ron that your Sean lived a few days before...""I know.""Charlie and I. We. Well," he reached into his robes and drew out an old wizarding photo. "Charlie brought it from our place after he saw you at the grove. It belongs to the two of you. I. I wouldn't let Molly know you have it."Seamus took the photo as Mikhael left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Seamus felt his knees buckle as he stumbled to the bed, catching the edge of it before he could fall. He sat, numbly, at the edge. One hand covering his mouth. It was Ron at fourteen, laying in a bed, asleep, with a tiny baby, too tiny, wrinkled and red and laying against his naked chest. It moved in the fashion of wizarding photos, the baby held gently in the crook of Ron's arm, clutching Ron's thumb, shifting his head to get comfortable against Ron's chest."Oh, Sean... you were beautiful," said Seamus quietly, as he sought and found Ron's hand, and cried softly for a long time.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Ronald Weasley woke with only vague recollections of the past day. He remembered, vaguely, a fight with his mum. He had a picture of the grove, covered in snow, and his wand pointed at the marker. Of the marker exploding and the piece with the name Weasley flying toward him. His vision filled with blood. Being surrounded by cold. A voice, Seamus' voice, pleading for him to hold on and a desperate cry of a spell that was utterly unfamiliar. Total warmth encircling him, more strongly than any of even Hermione's warming spells. He vaguely remembered waking to his mum and Seamus talking in forced even tones, and Seamus saying he didn't deserve him. A startled happy cry. His head hurt so much. There was darkness for a long time and then a hand holding his while he lay comfortably in a warm bed. The soft sounds of crying. A murmured voice, telling him that Sean was beautiful.When he opened his eyes he could have sworn that the blood that ran through his brain was pure molten agony, and he was not ashamed at all that he screamed. A kiss pressed into his forehead and against his lips and then there was liquid and the light tap of a wand against his throat. He tried to speak... to say something about the baby, but hands were stroking his hair, so gently and murmuring softly that he was alright, that the baby was alright. He closed his eyes and kept them closed for long enough to drift off again, and when he woke the headache was more localized, as though someone had tried to shear off a chunk of his skull. And it wasn't a small chunk, either. Mindful of his earlier mistake, he kept his eyes closed. "Shay?""Sweet!" replied a voice, excited but soft. There were kisses and he knew something was up as they were all over and yet avoiding the area of his skull that felt as though it was on fire."What. What's. Fucking hell, what happened to my head?""Oh god, sweet, you're awake," arms wrapped around him and there were soft lips against his. Ron tried to meet the kiss but he was weak, so weak, his head fell back against the pillow and then there was the pain again in his skull as the shock of falling against the soft pillow reverberated through his skull and he cried out softly. Another potion bottle settled against his lips and he felt the pain lessen considerably almost immediately."F-firecracker? Thought. Not supposed to take...""It's okay. Mediwitch approved, sweet," said Seamus softly, and he was being lifted and held and slowly and with touching care laid back into a pile of pillows that propped him upright."Can I... can I open my eyes?"He heard Seamus speak a quick spell softly and then say, "Yes, sweet."The harsh light of before was absent, and the room was mostly dark, lit dimly by a handful of candles. He was mostly naked in the bed, down to just his pants, covered by just a warm duvet. Seamus leaned against the pile of pillows next to him, one hand resting on Ron's chest. Ron quickly covered the hand with his own. "Shay...""Here love.""Game. Supposed to get to London.""I've already spoken to your team captain, sweet. The reserve keeper has been briefed and ready, and they've been practicing for the game this weekend. You're to rest. Mediwitch's orders.""But the game," said Ron, his protest sounding feeble even to him."Sweet, you were badly injured. Your body is weak. You wouldn't do your team any good. And your body, our baby, needs you to rest and recover.""Are we at the Cottage?""The Burrow," said Seamus. "It's alright. She's on strict orders from everyone to leave both of us alone.""Wanna go home.""Not safe for you or the baby, sweet," said Seamus, stroking his hair. "Bed rest, here, for a week.""Whose room?""Yours. Mikhael transfigured the bed. He said you needed something...""Wait," said Ron. "Mikhael was here? At the Burrow?"Seamus nodded. "Now I know I'm dreaming.""Sleep is good for you, sweet," said Seamus, budging up closer to wrap his arms around Ron. "Can you sleep leaned up like this?""I think so, yeah," said Ron."Good." Seamus leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "Rest." Ron saw a flash of wand and then dancing flames skirting upward as the candles extinguished. The flames themselves floated briefly, dancing elegantly in the air for a space of minutes before the room fell into darkness again. Warm arms tightened around him, the scruff of stubble raked against his chest and soft skin pressed against his side. Except for the pain in his skull, it was perfect. Ron drifted slowly back into sleep.Ron woke against the mountain of pillows to find Seamus still wrapped around him, his arms grasping tightly, as though terrified to let go. His neck had relaxed and though his head still pillowed against Ron's chest, it was set slightly askance, mouth hanging open, snoring softly. Ron thought it was probably one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen, simply because he knew without question that it was something Seamus had never allowed a single living soul other than Ron see, ever.Ron kissed Seamus' forehead and turned, careful not to wake him, adjusting the pillows so they were actually laying down, facing one another. He wrapped himself lightly in the other man's body, still facing him, bodies close, so close, and their arms and legs gently entangled. He lay his head down and surrendered to his body's seemingly constant call for sleep.Soft lips kissed against his throat. "Mmm, Shay," he managed to whisper as his body slowly woke. They were closer than they'd been when he'd last dozed off, bodies close and sticky and tight. Seamus trembled slightly in his arms and hands roamed against his body."Love you, sweet," murmured lips against his chest."Head still hurts."Seamus slid up his body and nimble fingers teased lightly against his skull. There was a brief sensation of fire and he cried out."It's doing better, your potion has just worn off.""Can I have...""Not yet," said Seamus softly. "We have to be careful. Too much can be dangerous for the baby."Ron swallowed hard as the awareness of the pain slowly increased. He'd endure."Who knows?""The family, including Harry.""Anyone else?" he asked."Neville was here and knew there were complications, but not specifically what they were," he said."Wanted to tell them myself.""You wanted to wait until two months to tell them, you mean.""Yeah," said Ron. "Fuck, Shay, this hurts. What the hell happened?""What do you remember?" asked Seamus softly."I was having a row, with Mum. She... she started saying things... about you. I was sick of it. I had such hopes the night before. Dad was going to speak to her, he said he was. And she was just, she was still being miserable and I was done. I saw that growing up, her doing that to Mikhael and to Charlie. I didn't want you to have to go through that. I didn't want us to have to go through that.""You were very angry. At her. At the family. For how they'd treated this," said Seamus gesturing between the two of them."I went... it was cold and I ran... went to the grove. Didn't want anyone to follow," said Ron. "And I was looking at the marker, and how they'd treated you and I was going to... I was going to abandon the Weasley name. I tried to blast the Weasley name off the marker.""Your emotions were running wild and you're pregnant. The spell was too powerful," said Seamus. "The marker exploded and the piece you'd blasted off of it hit you in the head.""That's why I have..." Ron sighed. "I guess I'm lucky it didn't...""It did, sweet. You smashed your skull in.""But... this isn't heaven, is it? I'd hate to think heaven comes complete with headaches...""No. You're alive, and the baby is fine, sweet," said Seamus. "I reached you in time and called for help.""Called... how?""Pyromancy isn't just about the pretty colors in the fire," said Seamus. "It has practical applications for other things.""How bad was it?"Seamus kissed the side of his face. "We thought we were going to lose both of you.""I'm sorry, Shay. I. We were just going to...""Don't be sorry. Charlie and Mikhael are both prouder of you than... They said to tell you so.""Charlie? Proud of me, really?""Yeah."Ron was very quiet. "I knew I must have almost died.""How?""Mikhael was here. At the Burrow.""I got that it didn't happen frequently.""Like almost never," said Ron. "Last time was... last time was when I lost Sean."Seamus slid back down Ron's body, kissing the side of his neck. "I know.""You talked?"Seamus set a hand on Ron's chest, fingering the sparse bits of red hair. "No. He. They took a picture, Ron. Of you. With Sean."Seamus felt Ron go still. Watched his hand reach up to wipe away tears. "A picture?" Ron asked quietly. "There was a..."Seamus felt the welling at his own eyes, the tears dripping against Ron's chest. He couldn't find the words, nodding into Ron's skin."It's real. The picture. You've. I mean you've seen it?"Seamus sat up and pulled himself upright, cradling Ron in his arms. "I've seen it, sweet. I wasn't going to say, but then I thought... if I knew you had a picture and hadn't shown me, how angry I'd be.""Can I see it.""It'll. Ron, sweet. It hurts.""I... I know. But I had a son who I held, and I can't even remember. Just the pain when they took him out of me and darkness. And waking up empty and... and hating myself."Seamus pulled Ron against him, running fingers carefully through his hair, just on the uninjured side. "It's what you want?""Please, Shay..."Seamus reached over to the night stand, carefully lifting the picture up and holding it for Ron to take it. He kissed Ron's hair. "You were both beautiful," he said softly.Ron sobbed softly, and looked at the photo longingly for a long time, wrapped in Seamus' arms. It was a very long time before Ron found it in himself to speak again, reluctantly handing the photo back over to Seamus. "We... we had a son, Shay. And he was beautiful."He rolled over and hugged Seamus tight around his chest. "Am I... am I well enough to make love?" he asked, suddenly desperate to be touched."If we're both gentle about it, and it's what you want," said Seamus. "It's good for the baby, but you're still very weak."Ron reached down and slid his pants off, tossing them off the bed. He kissed Seamus' chest softly. "Need you inside me. Please."Seamus slid against Ron, stripping his own pants off tossing them carelessly from the bed to join Ron's on the floor. Ron felt the touch of wood against his arse, the whisper of a spell cleaning him out and making him so slick. Kisses pressed gently against his shoulder "I love you," whispered Seamus."Please. Like that time... when we. You remember.""We were almost caught," said Seamus, "making love in my bed in broad daylight with the curtains shut tight.""You were... ohh, please... so... so f-fucking g-gentle," said Ron, moaning as a finger breached him and began to explore his insides. "Every. Every stroke. So slow. so gentle. so the bed... so it wouldn't, wouldn't creak.""Must have made love to you for hours," said Seamus, kissing Ron's shoulders and back as his fingers worked to make him ready. "Everyone thought we were at Hogsmeade.""Mmmhmm. Yes," said Ron. "You... you loved me. T-that w-was when I... You'd said it before, but I... that was. Oh fuck. I. Oh Merlin, fuck!"Seamus pressed his cock against Ron, his lips whispering against Ron's back. "I love you loveyouloveyouloveyou." He pressed against Ron rocking his hips gently, the thrusts of his hips making him not quite enter, and then he pressed, so slowly until he was just inside and stopped. His whole body shook. "L-love you.""P-please. M-move. Be. be. gentle."Seamus slid very slowly deeper. So slow. Then he was in, all the way in. "Like that?" asked Seamus.Ron was trembling against him. Seamus was inside him, he could feel the man's massive cock pressing deep, filling him. "Gently," said Ron.And then Seamus began, soft rocking, so gentle, so slow. His cock was on fire with need to thrust, to push hard and even deeper, but he kept the gentle rhythm. The thrusts were gentle, short, but deep, Seamus' cock buried to its hilt inside Ron, his arms clutched tight against Ron's chest as he so gently thrust into the core of Ron's body.Ron moaned softly, one hand finding a place on the headboard, the other seeking out Seamus' hip. "N-never stop. P-please, please god, Shay. Inside me, Shay.""L-love being inside you... fuck Ron, love you, love you so much." Seamus crawled his way slowly to a crecendo, each touch, each cry from Ron permission to move just so much faster, to thrust with just slightly longer a stroke, gently building to them both clutching and moaning and thrusting, gently, deeply until the pleasure pooled in Seamus' groin and exploded deep inside Ron. "L-love you!" screamed Seamus as he came, heedless that he'd set no charms to keep their cries from the rest of the house. Ron trembled in his arms as they lay on cum stained sheets, naked and still bound together by the length of Seamus' thick half hard cock. Seamus moved to pull out but Ron's hand held him tight. "No... want to... want you inside me as I sleep."Seamus smiled and pushed himself deep, wrapping their legs together so that he'd still be inside Ron when he woke. He kissed Ron gently on his back near his shoulder and wrapped an arm around him, and then fell blissfully asleep.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------They made love again the next morning, Seamus swelling inside him and caressing him softly the moment they woke together. Soft thrusts, gentle strokes, so full. Even through the pain in his head, Ron had never been so happy in his life. Seamus played his body with painstaking precision, every touch sending him into ecstasy. Seamus didn't stop when Molly came to bring them breakfast. He was focused entirely on Ron, on making his husband's body sing. He didn't stop when the door opened, didn't even notice the tray clatter to the ground. Ron was his world. His heat and his skin and that glorious tightness wrapped around his cock, holding him inside and begging him never to leave. To touch him forever.It was Ron's soft gasp of surprise, rather than any awareness of Molly herself that snapped Seamus from his reverie, from that place he'd gone in his head to make it last. Shaken from that nirvana, Seamus moaned as the full impact of their love making descended on him at once, the heat, the pressure, the slick oils of Ron's skin on his fingers, all conspiring against him, and he screamed as he lost his careful control and came. It was an exultation of pure joy and love that left his entire body trembling as he spent himself completely inside Ron.Ron closed his eyes and wrapped Seamus' arms around him, pulling him close. He was also trembling, and full, the warmth spread inside him and he could feel it, that extra heat, against his inner walls. He leaned back and tilted his head, the roughness of stubble scraping against his cheek as Seamus gifted him with an awkward kiss."Am I well enough," he asked, his breath all heaving gasps, still, "to shower?"Seamus nodded. "Together. Can't risk you falling.""Mmm. Better that way anyway," said Ron, his breathing slowly returning to normal."Who... who brought food?" asked Seamus, noticing the fallen tray."Mum.""She saw?" said Seamus. "Fuck.""Her fault," said Ron, though his cheeks flushed rather brightly red. "Should. She should have knocked."Seamus pulled his wand from under the pillows and cleaned up the mess, sending the tray and the fallen food floating back to the kitchen, and then spelling the stickiness from the sheets and off their bodies. He slid out of bed and groaned softly. Not leaving the room had meant he hadn't had his own pain relief potions, and his body was still sore and battered from his beating only days earlier. He sighed deeply and stood, finding Ron's potion on the nightstand and pouring it down Ron's throat. Ron didn't complain at all over the potion, which Seamus knew meant that he'd made love despite the horrible pain in his head having returned."You should have said something, sweet.""Wanted you. Wanted you first thing. To know loving me was your first priority, over everything else...""It is, but I want you to feel good, sweet.""It felt wonderful."Seamus kissed him carefully, then lifted him into his arms and walked to the door."We're naked, Shay," said Ron, alarmed."Should only be your mum here anyway," said Seamus. "Betting she's giving us plenty of room after what she saw."They made their way to the bathroom and Seamus lovingly, carefully shaved the stubble from both their faces and then took Ron into the shower with him and touched him everywhere. It was to clean each other, but that didn't stop Seamus from making it an act of loving worship, from caressing Ron's body with soap and flannel as they washed. When Seamus had washed them both, he rinsed them off and toweled them both dry. Coming out of the shower they wore towels, riding low against their hips, just in case.They dressed and as they did, Ron found the potions in the pockets of his robes that were spelled against Seamus' touch and asked the question no one else had thought to ask, his face full of hurt as he realized that Seamus had gone quietly without. Both properly dressed and showered and clean, Seamus begrudgingly allowed Ron to go down to the kitchen for breakfast. Ron gave him a surprised look as he called for Winky and asked her to clean the bed linens and make the bed. She smiled at both of them and assured them she'd be happy to do anything Master Weasley needed and disappeared with a pop, as did the linens on the bed.The kitchen was somber. Molly sat, clutching a coffee mug in trembling fingers as she stared at the table. Seamus was surprised to see Arthur Weasley also there, quietly sipping his coffee and still picking at his breakfast. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and smiled, getting to his feet and walking over to take a quick look at Ron, pat his arms and shoulders and ruffle his hair absently and then pull out a chair for him."Sit, sit, Ron," said Arthur, his voice full of calm concern. Ron sat, and Seamus started to head over to grab something, stopped only a brief shake of Arthur's head and a nod to the chair. It was Arthur who prepared plates for them, setting the piled over plates in front of them with small mugs of coffee and then setting both cream and sugar on the table so they could prepare the coffee as they liked.Molly just stared into her coffee. "Sorry to still be in your way," said Seamus, his gaze on Arthur. "It's just a few more days and then we can go home.""Nonsense," said Arthur. "You're Weasleys, both of you. That makes this home," he glanced at Ron, "a second home, but always home.""I don't want to be a Weasley," said Ron, his voice shaking.Seamus slid his chair next to Ron's and wrapped his arms around his husband. "You're just angry, sweet. Don't... please don't make a choice you'd regret out of anger. We both did that. We both did and we lost each other for a long time because of it."Ron closed his eyes in the face of welling tears. "She hates you, Shay.""I don't hate him," said Molly, not looking up. "But he doesn't deserve you.""Maybe I don't deserve him, Mum," said Ron. "Maybe I don't deserve to be made to feel... to FEEL, Mum. He makes me sing. My body, my soul. All of me, so alive. I..." Ron covered his face in his hands. "I love him, Mum."Seamus glared at her, holding Ron more tightly. "I didn't bring him downstairs to be yelled at, Mrs. Weasley.""I know," she said quietly, putting her face in her hands. "I do know. I'm. I'm sorry." She struggled with the words. "I want you to know, Ron. I... I won't promise to like him. I won't, I can't. Not now." She sighed and when she continued her voice sounded rather small. "But he's your husband. And. I. I should have accepted your choice." She looked back down at her coffee. "What happened to you was an accident," she said quietly. "But it was an accident caused because I couldn't trust you to know your own feelings. I didn't understand... that Hermione had... that you were. And with him." She shook her head. "He may not deserve you. Maybe as a mother I have an unrealistic view of who would deserve you. But he does love you. Maybe that's all I have a right to expect of him.""I do love him," said Seamus."I know," she said turning away. "I couldn't... I couldn't see you so terrified for him and not know.""So what now," said Ron bitterly. "I'm supposed to just forgive and...""Sweet," said Seamus softly. "Think of what you have forgiven me for. She's your mum. Is it so much harder to forgive her?""Yes," said Ron in a whisper. "I'm." He pushed his food away. "I'm not hungry."He stood up and stumbled as he walked to the stairs, holding tight to the rail and catching his breath.Seamus stood up and rushed to the stair, holding and supporting him as Ron's body tried to collapse beneath him."Help me upstairs," said Ron."No. You need to eat, sweet. They'll leave, I promise you they'll leave. But I need you to eat."Ron closed his eyes and sobbed softly, falling into Seamus' offered arms. He was half carried stumbling back to the table, and Seamus got him seated. He looked coldly at both Molly and Arthur. "I need you both to leave the kitchen.""But..." began Molly.A hand clasped over hers. "We'll go," said Arthur. He looked sadly at his son. "I'm so sorry, Ron."Even once they were gone it took coaxing, and not a few warming spells, before Ron would eat. When he was done, Seamus gathered Ron into his arms and carried him back to the room. Winky had returned and made the bed, and Seamus gently laid Ron onto it and covered him with the duvet. He kissed him on the forehead and fed him another potion and then watched him for a little while after the potion did its work and made him sleep, reassuring himself that Ron's chest was still rising and falling softly as it should.When he returned to the kitchen he found Arthur and Molly once again at the table and his own abandoned breakfast sitting on the table cold. He pointed his wand to vanish it.Arthur shook his head. "If you don't eat, you can't help him get better." He pointed his own wand and the food began to steam. "It's a good warming spell, trust me. I've had many a late night at the Ministry that caused me to need it."Seamus grumbled but sat down. He ate the food slowly, under the watchful eyes of both Weasley parents. When he was done, Arthur took his plate and dropped it into the sink.Finally Seamus looked seriously at them both. "Harry always spoke like you were gods. The family he'd always wanted. Needed. We'd talk about our families in the Gryffindor dorm, and Harry would deflect and talk about you as if you were his own parents. Ron never did, and I didn't understand why until now.""We love...""You will let me finish," said Seamus, his voice filled with quiet anger and a burning fury. "My husband almost died three days ago because he felt so reviled by this family for his choices that he wanted to stop being a Weasley."Arthur put his head in his hands."Did you notice that Charlie didn't step foot in the house?" asked Seamus, "With Ron so injured, he wouldn't even come in the door. Do you want Ron to be like that? So upset over how you treat his choice of partner that he won't even walk in the door?""That's not why Charlie..." said Molly"So very sure of that, are you?" said Seamus. "Do you even know what Mikhael is to him? Have you asked him?""We assume he'd tell us if..." said Arthur."He's stopped trying!" shouted Seamus. "Do you really want that to happen with Ron? For him to stop trying? All his life he had the Weasley name used as a weapon against him, and he was still proud of it. Ashamed to be poor, but proud. His parents fought against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. His parents, and his brothers, and finally him. Standing with Harry until the end. A hero.""He should be proud!" said Molly standing."Well right now he's not. Right now he doesn't want the Weasley name. If I'd let him he'd drop it and take my name instead.""You're," Arthur closed his eyes. "You're not going to let him, are you?""Yes," said Seamus, his voice cold and serious as his fingers tapped firmly against the table. "If it is what he really wants. But I won't let him make that decision when he's angry. I don't want him to make it and then regret it." Seamus sighed. "I know I'm not the most deserving person. I'm a hero, but I'm also a drug addict and a nasty drunk. I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. Things Ron knows about. Things he looks past out of love. It'd be one thing if you hated me for those things.""You left Ron, alone, to grieve.""And you denied me the chance to love my son for the three days he lived!"Molly paled and fell back into her seat. "Who told you that?""Someone with proof," snapped Seamus.Arthur shook his head. "What can we do?""Convince him you meant it when you said I was a Weasley too," said Seamus. "I don't think he believes you.""And me?" asked Molly."You don't have to like me," said Seamus. "I don't want you to pretend. But I need you to show him that you love him. To not constantly do things to show him you think he made a bad choice in choosing me. He needs you to respect his choice. Not to like it, Mrs. Weasley, any more than you like me. You clearly don't. But he chose me. And you act like it's something you can convince him out of, something you can make him change. And you can't." Seamus stood up. "If you keep trying, you will lose him, as surely as you lost Charlie a long time ago."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus smiled as he watched Ron shift under the duvet. Based on Ginny's instructions, they'd passed the point of danger. Ron would recover, it was just a question of how fast. Seamus stood from his cozy chair next to the lamp and walked over to kiss Ron lightly on the forehead, then extinguished the lamp and headed downstairs. He'd not braved the rest of the Burrow since his confrontation with Molly and Arthur two days prior. Ron's headaches had been severe enough to call for a brew not unlike Dreamless Sleep which had kept Ron asleep for the vast majority of the time. He'd taken meals in the room with Ron during the injured man's rare periods of wakefulness, calling for Winky when they needed food.The Burrow was uncharacteristically quiet. Seamus found the kitchen empty and was grateful for it, quickly putting together a sandwich and then stepping out for a breath of fresh air, even if it was cold. The night air bit at his skin, but the night was lit beautifully by stars and just a sliver of the moon. He sighed softly, watching the soft cloud of his breath float for a moment in the frigid air. He walked slowly into the midst of the field and pulled out his wand. A quick twirl of his wand cocooned him in heat.He pressed his wand to his throat and breathed a great blast of fire into the air, and then he let his wand dance in his hand as he began to sculpt fire. His magic teased the fire into colors and shapes, beating it like a molten liquid metal into feathers and plumage and making it fly, crying and trilling into the night as its inspiration had, the lament of a phoenix for a fallen friend as it sailed upward into the night sky, flame falling off it to make another, and another, and another, brilliant phoenixes multiplying in the sky until their songs merged into something heartbreaking and beautiful and impossibly strong.When the song was done the elegant sculpted fire shot into the night and exploded with quiet beauty into sparks, as though from fireworks, but silent and weeping and sad, as though the sparks wept in great smokey trails. It was a lament for Dumbledore, for the security and quiet reassurance that his presence had meant for the world and the school, for his inspiration of young wizards to rise and fight for what was good and right. Seamus let the fire trails fade and then breathed another blast of fire into the air and another. Fire rose into great fiery trees, circling an empty grove. And then a man, kneeling in grief in the center. Lonely and weeping trails of smoke to the ground. Tears of flame fell into the great haze left by the weeping smoke, fire concealed by clouds of gray, indistinct, like a memory, and in the falling tears were the lines of an arm, and a chest, and a child, a too tiny child, faded in the smoke, written in flame.There was a choked sob somewhere behind him. But Seamus ignored it as his wand swirled, the trees of sculpted flame falling outward and exploding into fire that raised the image of the tiny child, held and loved, out of the smoke and into the open night sky. A second figure of fire knelt beside the first and they embraced, their joined tears raining soft sparks of fire that faded as they fell. Slowly the lines of fire that marked the image of the child fell back into the smoke. The two figures held each other, the fire that made them both flaring as they became one figure, and then a single great flame that danced in the dark of night for a long time.Seamus turned to see Molly and Arthur standing by the door to the kitchen, holding each other, staring into the sky as the great flame danced, slowly fading into the night. He returned to the Burrow reluctantly, skirting a good distance around the house to enter from a different door. He managed, to his relief, to avoid running into the Weasley parents as he climbed the stairs to the room he shared with Ron, careful to enter quietly. He stripped down to his pants in the darkness and slid into the bed, feeling around for Ron in the darkness.Panic filled him for a moment. The bed was empty. He looked around the darkness of the room, reluctant to use his wand for light because of Ron's headaches. "Sweet?" he called out softly."Here," said Ron. He was sitting in Seamus' cozy chair, looking out the window, the sparse light making it almost impossible to see him in the shadows. "It was beautiful, Shay.""I thought you were asleep," said Seamus. "I wouldn't have left you if...""Little firecracker, it's okay. I'm getting better," said Ron. "I woke up and saw the light. The phoenix lament. I should have known you created it.""It's my most famous piece. I perform it twice a year," said Seamus softly, feeling a little guilty. "I could live on just what it costs to perform it once.""And the second piece?" asked Ron."That one is for you and me," said Seamus. "In memory of Sean."Ron was quiet for a long while. "I missed a game today, didn't I?" he asked, changing the subject rather deliberately."Cannons won," said Seamus, "against the Harpies."Ron sighed. "I should have been there.""Sweet. You're allowed one game a season as personal time. You've never taken one, ever," said Seamus. "I checked.""What if I'm not better?""Two games left in the season, sweet, and you're allowed three for prolonged illness with a mediwitch signing off on it. Stop worrying," said Seamus. "Ginny thinks you'll be able to play in next week's game against the Magpies.""Is. Is everyone still mad at us?"Seamus sighed. "Who are you worried about, sweet.""I. I'm not sure.""Hermione loves you and hates me. But she's angry at both of us," said Seamus. "I don't think that's going to change anytime soon. She forgives us, but Ron, you cheated on her, with me, after she asked if anything was going on."Ron swallowed hard. "Yeah, alright.""Harry's still torn between wanting to be happy for you and feeling a need to defend Hermione's honor."Ron actually chuckled at that."Neville hates you for forgiving me. He's still. I deserve his hate, but I wish he'd forgive you.""I expected that," said Ron. "Neville is the most likely to hold a grudge. But he's mellowed a bit since marrying Krum.""They really got...""Yeah," said Ron. "They did. Luciano and Noah too. It'll be Ginny and Casey next.""Not likely. Your parents are still in denial.""About Ginny or about us?""Take your pick. I don't think your mum does well with letting go of her children.""Fuck. Can we skip my parents?" asked Ron."Alright. McGonagall wrote separate Howlers for each of us.""Do I even want to know?" asked Ron."Probably not. You sure you want to know all this?""Come on, Shay. Who else?""Minister of Magic. That goes back to defending Hermione's honor.""And?""Flitwick. Not a surprise there, he always favored Hermione. Slughorn, though he still can't remember your name, surprised the owl even found you. The entire Puddlemere United team. Viktor Krum, though given he's now apparently married to Neville that shouldn't be a surprise.""He's really close to 'Mione," said Ron. "He'd have sent one anyway.""Luciano and Noah sent concerned letters rather than Howlers. I think being stuck in relationship troubles from their promise bindings made them a little more sympathetic," said Seamus."I know there's more.""A lot more. Most of them for me. I think everyone I ever slept with sent me a Howler.""You deserved those," said Ron. "Sleeping with someone other than me.""Yeah, well. You ruined me for anyone else. Serves you right for being such a bloody fantastic shag even at fourteen.""Will my parents ever...""I don't know, sweet," said Seamus, walking up to him and kissing him softly on the forehead before kneeling on the floor next to him and embracing him a little awkwardly in the chair. Strong calloused fingers ran through Seamus' hair."Do you really care who might be mad at us?""I care that Hermione's mad," said Ron, "that Neville is.""You know there were dozens of Howlers from people who don't know either of us.""I know. I watched Harry go through this a few times, remember?""Do you want to go back to bed?" asked Seamus. "You should rest.""Been in bed all day," said Ron. "So have you."Seamus stood up and lifted Ron from the chair, carrying him back to the bed and setting him gently upon it."You really expect to sleep?" asked Ron.Seamus leaned over to kiss him gently next to his ear. "I expect you to try," said Seamus, kissing a path along the line of his jaw. "Of course I may distract you first.""Mmmm," said Ron, falling back against the pillows as Seamus climbed on top of him. "I think I'd like that."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus ignored the hushed voices, the piercing glares that came from every direction. He'd known the wizarding world would judge him harshly. With Harry choosing to marry a Death Eater, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley had been the wizarding world's darling couple. A couple he'd broken up. It didn't matter that Ron had borne their child, the wizarding world didn't know or care. They saw an interloper coming between two media darlings, and they hated him.He'd been a rather infamous playboy for years, his briefest dalliances fodder for the daily gossip of wizards and witches. Bad press didn't really bother Seamus. As a pyromancer he enjoyed a certain dark mystique shared in the wizarding world only by potions masters, and the result was a certain undercurrent of darkness in the press he'd received. He didn't mind it. The press remembered when it suited them that he was also a hero, Order of Merlin, second class.He'd been stopped on his trip to his favorite deli at least six times. Stopped. Slapped open handed across the face. Berated. Seamus took the abuse calmly, thankful he still had powerful painkillers running through his system to dull the sharp pain across his face. It was not so different, really, than the treatment he'd often received after dumping his many romantic partners. He sighed. They'd never believe it, of course, not of Seamus, not of the playboy. That he loved Ron with everything in his heart. They were waiting. Waiting for him to dump Ron and leave him and ruin him.By the time he reached the deli his cheeks were burning red from the combination of the cold and the bitter slaps of a disappointed public. Seamus ducked into the deli and made his way to a booth in the back. He'd never taken dates here. This was where he came to meet Dean. For the first four years after Hogwarts they'd met every week without fail. And then Seamus had branched out from Muggle drugs into the terrors of dust and phyre, dangerous magical concoctions that had drawn him eventually into a world that he no longer controlled.He was nervous as he walked up to the booth. Dean had not written. Not a Howler. Not a letter. Dean smiled at him, dark skin making bright eyes sparkle all the more as the man stood to his impressive height, taller even than Ron, to open his arms. They hugged and gave each other the obligatory straight boy clap on the back before backing away, Dean punching him lightly on the arm before sitting and motioning for him to do the same."Ron said he saw you at St. Mungo's a little while back," said Seamus, his voice a little weak."Looking for you, you great secretive git," said Dean. "Almost hexed the receptionist at St. Mungo's. Wouldn't tell me a thing!""Yeah, well. There were," Seamus stumbled. "I was beaten pretty bad, Dean, but with the press, it was probably best that...""It was him, wasn't it.""What?""Ron," said Dean, looking at his friend. "He was the one you were in love with, all that time in fourth year. You were sneaking off to broom cupboards to snog Ronald Weasley.""I...""You can't. Seamus, you don't think I would've cared?""W-wasn't sure," said Seamus, looking pointedly at the table. "Do you?""So, who leaked that to the press?" asked Dean. "You didn't tell me, so... Hermione didn't do it, did she?""It was Ron," said Seamus. "He told Skeeter we'd been lovers, that he wasn't ashamed of it. I think. I think seeing me in the hospital... I think that's when he made the decision.""Well, you should know, I don't care. Bit cheesed off about the whole sob story. Got the girl pregnant, you said. She got rid of the baby, you said. We were fourteen, you didn't need to be making up stories. You could've just...""I wasn't," said Seamus softly. "I wasn't making up... We're wizards, Dean.""You're. You're not serious?" asked Dean. "You got. Ron was?" Dean swallowed hard and emptied his glass in one long drink.Seamus nodded. "I'm only telling you, Dean. I trust you.""You're saying he. He got rid of the baby? That... that doesn't seem much like Ron. I'd. He'd have wanted to keep it. Don't you think? I can see everyone else trying to tell him it was madness to carry a child at fourteen, but Ron... he'd..."Seamus shook his head. "He lost the baby. I. We weren't speaking, so I didn't know. I thought he'd. Well, you know what I thought. And then he spent all that time with Neville and I thought he was moving on. I was so angry.""Yeah, well that I remember," said Dean. He was quiet for a moment. "Prophet says you got married. Did you?"Seamus nodded, unable to keep a grin from his face."Love him?" asked Dean."So much, Dean, you... you have no idea.""How's Hermione?""Angry, but she'll get over it," said Seamus. "It's Hermione. It shouldn't surprise you to find out that she knew already."Dean threw back his head and laughed. "You're right lucky she didn't hex you into pieces and toss you in the bin, mate!" Dean hesitated for a moment, looking nervously at the table. "So, you've been at the Burrow then. Have you... I mean...""She's still with Casey, Dean."Dean breathed out a long breath. "It just doesn't let go, does it?" asked Dean very sadly."No. No, not really.""She's well though?" asked Dean. "I mean, you've seen her?""Quite a lot. There was an accident. Ron was." Seamus stopped and closed his eyes."Seamus? He's not...""No. No, he'll be alright. But it was bad. Very, very bad.""He didn't play in the game against the Harpies," said Dean, leaving it unspoken that Ronald Weasley did not miss Quidditch games, ever.Seamus nodded and then they were both quiet for a long time. A waitress brought them both sandwiches and more drinks, and they both left them untouched. In the end it was Dean who spoke."Why'd you stop coming, mate?" he asked, glancing meaningfully at the booth they were in. "We were...""Ecstasy, crystal meth, dust, phyre. Potions. Heroin, a little," said Seamus. "I. I was a success, Dean. One performance of the phoenix lament makes me more than enough to live on for a year. And I do it twice every year. Quidditch victory displays, war memorial commemorations. I had more money than I knew what to do with. I told Ron I wasn't rich, but it was a lie. I. I'm a wealthy man. But it didn't make me happy.""You were addicted to drugs?"Seamus nodded numbly. "And sex. Started with the ecstasy. Wanted. I wanted to feel what I felt with Ron. That intimacy that I'd lost. Wanted it to be explosive and hot and to be connected. Wanted to be happy.""Fuck, Seamus. Drugs don't make you happy.""Feels like it though. It seems stupid now, Dean, don't you think I know that?" asked Seamus. "Hero of the war doped up on everything. Don't you think I know what a pale imitation it is? But when you've had that intimacy, that closeness, that total happiness, and then lost it? It can make you a bit desperate to get it back.""Total happiness?" asked Dean, arching an eyebrow.Seamus grinned. "Oh, Merlin, yeah.""Wicked.""You had it with Ginny.""For about two minutes before she went back to pursuing Harry," said Dean, and the bitterness showed stark in the tremble of his voice, anger and regret. "I wonder... I mean, if she'd known about Harry, that he was, well you know.""You said it didn't bother you," said Seamus."It doesn't," said Dean, holding up his hands, "really, Seamus, it doesn't."Dean toyed with the chips on his plate. "Do you think she would have...""I think she's happy with Casey," said Seamus. "They've been together a long time, Dean.""Damn.""I know. I pushed him away. Ron, I mean. Back to Hermione. A ton of times before I let anything. I mean. I wasn't trying to destroy their family the way people think.""I don't think that," said Dean. "I remember. I remember how upset you were. That was love, it was. Only thing that makes someone that crazy. He lost the baby? No wonder he was so barmy that year. Merlin," his eyes grew wide with sudden realization. "You don't suppose it's true about Hermione? That she's...""Yeah.""Fuck me. Ron left her and she's...""Yeah. Everyone hates me for a reason, Dean.""Not everyone," said Dean. "You're my best mate. You said she's okay?""Not okay, exactly," said Seamus. "She loves him.""What are you going to do about the baby? I mean. He's going to have a kid, Seamus.""I know. And she's... I mean, the custody agreement is in place already. She'd spent a rather long time with a solicitor, I think. Drew up the divorce paperwork months ago.""Why?""I was," Seamus blushed. "I was sleeping with Ron. Not sex, I swear. But we were...""You were having a bleedin' affair. And Hermione knew?" Dean whistled. "I'd watch for that curse, mate.""I know.""This doesn't change anything, you know," said Dean, reaching across the booth to slap Seamus on the arm. "You're still my best mate. Just. Don't forget about me this time 'round, yeah?""I. I'm sorry mate. I.""We're good," said Dean. "Eat. The bread gets all soggy if you you let it sit too long."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus was in high spirits when he returned to the Burrow. He practically skipped into the house, taking the rickety steps two at a time before quietly slipping into their room. Ron lay in bed, sleeping peacefully. Seamus walked over to him quietly, stroking a few loose hairs away from his face, then sat in his cozy chair, watching the soft rise and fall of Ron's chest as he slept. He sat for perhaps an hour, just watching. Then he stood up, kissed Ron very gently, and pulled the blankets up higher where they'd slid down, tucking them around Ron's body. He backed quietly out of the room, hesitant to let Ron out of his sight for a moment, but finally closed the door, as quietly as he could in the ramshackle house, and then headed back down the stairs. Molly looked up at him as he reached the living room. She was fiddling with a clock she'd taken off the wall and shot him a look that was not quite a glare. "How is he?" she asked."Sleeping.""And?""He's doing better. I'm taking him home tomorrow," said Seamus."You. You don't have to do that," said Molly. "This is his home.""He hasn't decided whether that's still true yet," said Seamus, "and even if it is, we still need a place, something that's ours, where we can have a family of our own.""If you take him, will I see him again?" she asked, her tone growing automatically hostile."Must you be..." Seamus looked up at the stairs above him and took a deep breath. "I'm not your enemy, Mrs. Weasley," he said, taking the last few steps in haste. "I have tried to be understanding, I have, but... are you trying to lose him?"Molly looked furious for a moment and then closed her eyes. "We're fighting again."Seamus sighed. "Yes, we are."She set the clock down and walked over to Seamus, brushing her hands down his sides. "I smell the garlic sauce from that deli on Diagon Alley."Seamus chuckled. "You do.""He lets you kiss him like that?""He loves garlic. Drives him wild with desire."Molly gulped softly. "You're being half-serious, and I didn't need to know that.""If you don't wish to know these things, you should really learn to knock.""I didn't need to know THAT either," said Molly, her face quickly growing a deep red. "Seeing my boy like that with you... with you IN him. I mean. I thought you'd be. He's so tall," she said plaintively with a long drawn out sigh."If you can talk about sex with me, Mrs. Weasley," Seamus said rather quietly, "however awkwardly, then we are making progress.""It's hard to see my little boy like that.""Think of how Ginny must have felt," said Seamus, "as his mediwitch, telling me how important it was for us to keep having sexual contact as much as possible.""I don't want to think about that," said Molly. "I don't want to think about it with any of my children. Especially Ginny."Seamus hesitated for a moment and then sighed. "If you want, it's his last night here. I could persuade him to come down for dinner."Molly choked a little bit. "You'd have to persuade him?""I'm afraid so. He's still very angry."Molly closed her eyes again, her lips tight, but she nodded once."I'll leave you to your clock, then," said Seamus."You have an owl," said Molly, "from Neville. I left the letter on the table. It's... it's for you, not Ron." Seamus nodded and slipped into the kitchen quick for the letter, amongst the many letters still coming in daily to tell him how horrible they were for breaking up the darling couple of the wizarding world. He took just the one, he'd sort the rest later. Then he climbed up the many stairs to Ron's room on the fifth floor of the Burrow. Ron still slept peacefully. He'd rolled onto his stomach, his head buried in his pillow, his arse tilted upward in a way that made Seamus' body come alive. Seamus brushed softly at Ron's hair with the backs of his fingers, then sat in the cozy chair by the window.Quietly he broke the seal and read the brief note. It was puzzling, but clearly from Neville. His handwriting was distinct and Seamus readily recognized it, every Gryffindor, except perhaps Hermione, had copied answers from him in Herbology. He set the note aside and moved from the chair by the window to sit at the too small desk in the corner, searching through the mess for a bit of parchment and an unbroken quill with which to pen a response. Seamus scribbled his response in quick emotionless lines. Careful, distant words that meant exactly what they said and no more. He couldn't risk tempers flaring, least of all his own. If they were to flare, he'd prefer it in person, where he could respond. He folded the note and addressed it, then sealed it with a bit of wax. He turned to check on Ron, who was shifting to get comfortable, his hips wriggling in a way that made his arse dance. Seamus trembled. He'd come so close, so very close, to losing this. He set the note aside to send with an owl later and walked over to the bed, lightly stepping out of his shoes and letting his robes fall to the floor. He dropped his trousers and slipped into the bed beside Ron, shifting Ron's head from the pillows onto his chest. He lay there for a long time, his hands running through Ron's brilliantly red hair, smiling at his beloved.Sometime during the afternoon the stress of so many days of uncertainty got to him, and Seamus fell, finally, fitfully asleep. He was woken, rather pleasantly with a soft kiss, warm lips pressing gently against his, the quiet demand of a tongue demanding entry as mouths opened and his world became defined in a moment by that kiss. He felt the chuckle, the rumbling in Ron's chest as he pulled away."You've been eating at that deli on Diagon Alley again."Seamus smiled as he opened his eyes and waggled his eyebrows at Ron.Ron rubbed against him. "Want a quickie before we call Winky for dinner?""You're feeling better.""Loads," said Ron, his hand tugging at the waistband of Seamus' pants. "Come on then."Seamus shook his head. "Sweet. No. We need to shower. And then dinner. Downstairs. With your parents, Ron.""Haven't got parents.""Ron, sweet, please," said Seamus, "think of your dad. He's trying, really trying."Ron closed his eyes. "Rather stay up here and shag like rabbits."Seamus leaned up to kiss him. "I almost ravished you while you slept, you tawdry beast. Wriggling your hot sexy arse in your sleep.""See!" said Ron excitedly, kissing him soundly. "Shagging is a much better plan.""It's a good plan," said Seamus, kissing Ron's neck gently, "for after dinner."Ron grumbled and sat up. "They hate you, Shay."Seamus sat up and leaned against Ron's back, wrapping his arms around Ron's waist. "I think they're getting over that. It's slow, but they're getting better." He nibbled lightly on Ron's ear. "Now, sweet. If you come take a shower with me, I promise to take care of this little problem," he said, one hand grasping Ron's rigid cock, "and get you very, very relaxed before dinner.""Mmm," murmured Ron, tilting his head into the soft nibbles. "Swallow me?""In the shower," breathed Seamus, "now, or I'll leave you to wait aching all through dinner."Ron leapt to his feet and rushed out of the room, and Seamus followed right behind him. It wouldn't take much encouragement. After all, Ron always tasted sweet.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus took his time coaxing Ron to his climax in the shower. The language of touch was one that Seamus spoke well, his fingers dancing over Ron's body in tune with the pulsing stream of the shower, teasing, caressing, massaging. Within moments he had Ron begging, and Seamus treasured the sight of Ron's face as he dropped to his knees and slid his mouth over Ron's cock, swallowing his length whole.Ron bucked wildly, unprepared for the sudden onslaught of sensation as his world became narrowed to the certainty of hot wet warmth wrapped around cock, milking him in long full strokes as fingers sought and pressed and entered him, reminding him of what pleasure could be. Ron's hands gripped in desperation into Seamus' hair in a primal attempt to push himself deeper into that heat, and to his glorious satisfaction, Seamus opened himself to take Ron to the root and allowed the muscles of his throat to swallow softly over and over again, massaging the head of the cock buried in his throat.Seamus began to alternate between deep throating and licking and teasing against the uncut head of Ron's cock, nibbling his foreskin and teasing the ridge there with the tip of his tongue. Ron was very nearly beyond speech, managing little more than an occasional moan and, when Seamus chose to swallow him entirely, in screams that Seamus felt sure the Lovegoods would be able to hear. Soon Ron's cock pulsed, once, twice, and then a third time, filling Seamus' mouth with milky white cream.Seamus pulled off of Ron's swollen cock, licking with the tip of his tongue against the edge of his mouth to capture that last bit of cum that had trickled out of his mouth before looking up at Ron and very deliberately and visibly swallowing several times."Oh, fuck. Oh god. So hot to see you... fuck you swallowed my cum...""Mmm, told you," said Seamus, standing up and kissing Ron soundly, "you taste sweet."Seamus began to soap up and lather them both, his hands moving across Ron's skin as his lips met Ron's, kissing him and sharing the hint of Ron's taste as their tongues met and danced. They were a long time in the warm wet spray of the shower, kissing and exploring and touching, before they finally stepped out and returned to Ron's room to dress. It took more coaxing to get Ron to actually put on clothes, and in the end, Seamus settled for getting Ron into sleep pants and the Chudley Cannons shirt he often wore to bed. Seamus decided domesticity was actually possibly a good signal, and in the end he wore his own sleep pants, pulled higher than he normally would wear them and properly laced to keep them from falling, something he'd never normally bother with, and a shirt in Gryffindor red, decorated with artful thin lines of gold. Arthur met them in the living room, seizing a reluctant Ron into an embrace as soon as he'd reached the floor. "I. Well. I'm so glad to see you better, Ronald. We were worried.""He's still got the headaches," said Seamus, "but Ginny says that's normal. His injury would normally warrant much stronger pain relief potions that we just can't risk.""I'm just happy to be climbing down the stairs myself," said Ron. "I was feeling a bit like a baby being carried everywhere.""I liked carrying you everywhere, sweet," said Seamus, kissing him on the cheek.Ron looked suddenly a little uncertain. "Shay said you wanted to have dinner with us?"Arthur nodded."If I might have a minute, Mister Weasley?" said Seamus. "I just need to know where you keep your owl. I need something to go out to Neville tonight.""Ah. Right-o. This way," he said, leading Seamus into another room where two owl cages sat. A rather small owl was perched in one of them, the other empty. "Our owl has already been sent off," said Arthur, "but Pig arrived after Ron was injured. I can't imagine Ron would mind you using his owl. Besides, he's used to finding Neville and Harry."Seamus smiled and stroked the owl's feathers, giving it instructions and attaching the letter before opening the window for him to fly out into the night. "Thanks, Mister Weasley.""You're family, son. It's Arthur," he said, resting a hand on Seamus' shoulder. "And I won't take it amiss if you call me Dad."Ron stood in the doorway behind them. "You... you mean that, Dad?"Arthur turned and smiled at his son. "Yes, I do. Now," he said, clapping his hands together, "dinner, shall we?"They walked back through the living room and into the kitchen, and Molly smiled as she finished spooning food onto the plates on the table. "Oh! Ron, you joined us. I was hoping you would." She set the pot aside and opened her arms, but Ron shook his head, his face set and angry."Ron?" she said pleadingly.Seamus stepped forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Thank you for having us," he said, and in a whisper, "give him some time. Don't you dare give up on him."Arthur sat and so did Molly, reluctantly, though it was clear that Ron's refusal to embrace her had been a blow. Seamus pulled a chair out for Ron and sat next to him, his hand holding Ron's thigh reassuringly under the table."Well, tuck in," said Molly, trying to recover some of the momentum lost, but the mood remained rather somber."So, Arthur," said Seamus, hoping conversation might cut through the awkwardness, "How's the Ministry treating you?""It's good to have a Minister of Magic I can have some faith in," replied Arthur. "And the work is exciting. I mean, Muggle artifacts are so very interesting. Though Harry never did explain to me just exactly what the function of a rubber duck is supposed to be.""Yes, well, some Muggle artifacts are better left a mystery," chuckled Seamus. "Really though, a rubber duck is just a toy for the bath."Arthur scrunched his face, puzzled. "I think I liked the mystery better," he said after a moment."Exactly," said Seamus.Arthur looked hesitantly at Ron. "I heard the Cannons won their game against the Harpies."Ron looked sullen, picking at his food, but eating very little, accomplishing moving the food around the plate, but little else. "I heard," he said."Ron, sweetness," said Seamus softly. "Try. Please.""They just want..."Seamus whispered a warming charm and nudged Ron's plate. "Try. For me, sweet."Ron looked at Seamus and leaned over to kiss him, Seamus turning at the last moment so their lips came softly together, and then Ron began to eat a little, though with far from his usual fervor."I. I saw you fire sculpting the other night," ventured Molly softly to Seamus. "Your phoenix was beautiful. I've seen the lament performed before, but you duplicated it beautifully."Seamus laughed."What?" asked Molly.Seamus took a long deep breath and squeezed Ron's thigh again, trying to find a polite way to deflect the question."Can't even try to give him credit, Mum?" said Ron, very quiet."I created the phoenix lament for Professor McGonagall," said Seamus softly, "as a way to commemorate Dumbledore's service to the school." He looked up. "Triumphant laments are my specialty. Just as the phoenix lament is a memory of someone whose triumph was in his inspiration of others, the Memory of Sean I sculpted for Ron is a statement of our own resilience, our capacity to move past our grief and be together.""We saw it, from the kitchen while you were sculpting," said Arthur. "The image of the child was very poignant.""The point of the piece," said Seamus, "is that in order to move forward, in order for the idea of our child to be more than just a memory, we have to set aside the memory enough to join together. That by moving forward and coming together, we make the memory more cherished, stronger. It brings us together and helps us become more.""We are more," said Ron.Seamus squeezed Ron's thigh gently, "Yes, we are.""So, you're moving to Shell Cottage tomorrow," said Arthur.Ron nodded."You're sure you wouldn't rather stay? I know the Burrow isn't a lot, but...""It's not home," said Ron flatly."...at least not right now," said Seamus smoothly. "We need a place of our own, a place where we can explore our relationship. It's new and needs a certain amount of room to grow unfettered.""Shay...""Sweet, please, please don't do something you'll regret.""You said you'd...""I said I'd offer you my name," said Seamus, "for you and our children. But only if you thought about it and were sure it wasn't something you'd regret. I asked you not to make that choice in anger, sweet. And all I am seeing from you right now is anger.""But they...""They're trying, sweet.""Dad is trying," said Ron. "I'm not sure about Mum."Seamus sighed and closed his eyes. "She's frightened, sweet. She's scared to death she's going to lose you. She's afraid to say much of anything for fear it will be the wrong thing. And when she tries to say the right thing, you're so angry, sweet that you twist it.""She was miserable to you. Willing to say anything to make us...""Ron, son," said Arthur, "she tried to keep you from making a rash decision. You'd been with Hermione for a long time. It's hard for her to understand, your turning away from Hermione.""You seem to be doing alright," said Ron."I accepted your skiving off Hogwarts your final year faster too, if you'll recall," said Arthur. "Your mum feels deeply, and it's hard sometimes for her to get past what she's feeling. It makes her a strong and passionate witch, but, son. Give her some time. She's your mum.""You chose not to promise us, Dad. You chose not to. Every one of us, Dad, it's the same. The person we choose is never good enough for Mum. You have to let us choose. And sometimes, given that freedom," Ron looked down, "we'll make mistakes. Like I did with Hermione. Trying to be something I'm not. Trying to make something work from the love I have for her. She's family, Dad, like a sister, but more, because she's also my best friend. And for a while it was enough. But I'm gay, Dad. Mum. I'm gay, and this man, this one. The one I chose with my heart when I was fourteen. He's what I want. And he wants me, Mum. He wants me and that him wanting me makes you not..."Ron stood and walked away from the table, Seamus following and wrapping Ron in his arms from behind before he could leave the kitchen. "Shh, sweet," said Seamus softly, kissing his neck gently. "It's okay.""It's bloody hard," said Ron, bitterly."Exactly," said Seamus. "Took you a long time, didn't it? Trying to want someone else. Trying to be a good husband for Hermione. They didn't see your struggle, Ron, because you hid it. You hid it, sweet. And no one saw but Hermione." He rubbed the back of Ron's shoulder.Chairs scraped against the floor and Molly stood. "I. I wasn't trying to belittle him by complimenting his art. You heard what I said about the phoenix lament, dear, but you didn't let me finish. The sculpting that followed. The grove. The baby. You. It was stunning, Ron. I've never seen such love conveyed through art in my life.""You'd still prefer Hermione," said Ron, not turning around."I'd have preferred Ginny and Harry marry, too, dear. But I let Ginny pretend I don't know about her living with Casey. And I accepted Draco Malfoy into this family," said Molly. "I held him and supported him, the man responsible for Bill's injury, as if he was my own when we thought we were going to lose Harry."Ron sniffed and blinked back tears as he turned. "You know about Casey?""Ginny's my daughter. Of course I know. And I know your young man thinks I'm deluded, but I knew a long time ago that Mikhael and Charlie had married," said Molly.Arthur gasped, "What?""I knew it a long time ago, Ron. He's never told me. It hurts me that he's so afraid to tell me that he won't come in the house," she said, her voice growing quiet as she made her way cautiously around the table and came to stand across from him by the door. "I know I worry about you doing something rash. You're a Gryffindor, dear. Of course you're going to do rash things. It's in your nature, just as it's in mine, as a mother to worry. There's a reason I have that clock.""Yeah, well you know what hurts me?" said Ron, "That I know my husband will never be on your precious clock!""Ronald Weasley! Don't give me lip. I am still your mum." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I'm. I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't. I don't want to fight you.""It's lip, is it. Knowing he'll never be family enough," snarled Ron. "You're my mum... well maybe you don't...""Don't, Ron," said Seamus, rather loudly, grabbing hold of his arm. "Please. You'll never be able to unsay that if you do.""What if I mean it," snapped Ron."Maybe," said Seamus softly, "you should look at the clock in question first.""Why? So I can be reminded...""Just look, sweet."Ron looked at Seamus. "What do you know?"Seamus didn't say anything, just gestured toward the living room. Ron walked a little numbly into the living room and turned to look at the clock. He fell, a little bug eyed, to his knees, a sob escaping his throat. The hands representing Arthur, Molly, and Seamus, all pointed to 'home'. Seamus knelt behind him and wrapped him up in his arms. "You okay, sweet?"Ron pointed weakly at the clock."I know," said Seamus, kissing him gently on the back of the neck. "I know. She loves you, you know that?"Ron clutched at Seamus arms around him and pulled Seamus tighter against his back."Come back to dinner, yeah?" said Seamus softly.Ron gulped and closed his eyes. "Yeah, okay." On the clock, a hand representing Ronald Weasley moved from 'lost' to 'home'.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Seamus sat waiting for Neville at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, drinking a Guinness. Even in Hogsmeade, where he, like most of the Gryffindors of his year, had spent a year helping rebuild the castle while they studied for NEWT levels, he received more than his share of angry disgusted looks. Seamus was struck that Madam Rosmerta, the owner, seemed rather more forgiving, giving him a kind glance and a smile as she brought him a second Guinness.Neville sat down with a glass of scotch, draining it before bothering to actually look at Seamus. "You came."Seamus remained quiet, waiting."I didn't really expect," Neville sighed and fingered his empty glass. "You and Ron?""I think you know.""I expect it of you, but Ron? To do that to Hermione? And with you?"Seamus sighed. "I don't blame you for thinking so little of me. After. Well, I deserve it. But Ron didn't...""You made him cheat on Hermione!""I enabled it, certainly," said Seamus. "I did push him away, Neville. Several times, when we skirted the line too close. I pushed him away and stopped him.""So why didn't you keep pushing, you great fucking git!"Seamus looked around the room and very deliberately cast a silencing charm over their booth. "You've been in love, Neville. Don't tell me you don't understand, because I know that you do."Neville reached self consciously to his collar, fingering the cloth covering the marks of the claim on him, marks that meant he was owned in his body and soul by a man he loved. "I...""There was no Unbreakable promise binding keeping me from my love, Neville. And I won't apologize to you for it. Not for that.""And to Hermione?"Seamus grew quiet. "That's a different story.""So you will?" asked Neville."For the pain it has caused her, yes.""But not for stealing him away... bloody bastard, that's what you are.""Could you say no to a night with your Luciano, if he came to you right now and offered you one?""That's not a fair question!""Life is not fair, Neville.""I. I don't think I could," said Neville finally, his hand pressed tight over his heart. "But he'd never do that.""Well. Ron did. I don't think he meant to. Not at first. He loves me and he was trying to show me some compassion at a time he knew no one else would. But touches became caresses and kisses, and attempts at sex that I rebuffed." Seamus looked seriously at Neville. "I rebuffed them, Neville, for a long time."Neville sighed and shoved his empty glass away. "He was carrying for you. I know you knew it. Fourth year.""I knew," said Seamus. "Do you honestly think that you can make me feel more guilty for that loss than Mrs. Weasley has already done?""No," said Neville quietly. "I expect I can't. Mrs. Weasley can be ruthless when her children are hurt." Neville paused for a moment, looking at the table again. "I. I'm not going to forgive what you did to Oliver." The words were quiet and final."Good. You shouldn't," said Seamus, his hand reaching out and tilting Neville's head up to look right into Neville's eyes. "I don't deserve forgiveness for what I did, Neville.""Hermione did something to you?" It was only barely a question."She did.""Knows her curse work, Hermione.""She does.""It was painful?""Horrific. Worse than *Cruciatus*.""Good," said Neville with a chilling certainty. He fiddled with his glass. "Why did you do it?""It won't make any more sense to you than it did to Wood.""You spoke to him?" asked Neville, eyebrows raised."He came to me in the hospital," said Seamus, "after his teammates beat me into a bloody pulp.""You deserved it," said Neville harshly."You won't find me arguing that," said Seamus. He took a long gulp of his Guinness and set it down. "Neville. Why did you ask me to come?""I wanted to kill you after," said Neville quietly. "Stood there day after day while the students were eating, watching you in the hospital wing, trying to bring the words to my lips.""I know," said Seamus. "I'm sorry, Neville.""I can't forgive you.""I don't expect you to.""Ron expects us to," said Neville, looking away."He shouldn't. It's not fair for him to expect that. Not after what I did.""You don't remember it, do you? Any of it?""I remember you casting *Incarcerous* afterwards. Some words from Ron and Hermione. Some vague impressions. A confrontation with Mayer."Neville gulped. "Oliver says. He says he thinks he may have kissed you before he was...""Does that really matter?""It does to me," said Neville quietly."It shouldn't," said Seamus, his voice level and even. "It doesn't make what I did less wrong.""Tell me.""It doesn't matter, Neville.""Please. I need to understand.""You won't thank me for it," said Seamus, sighing softly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You threw a drink in my face. I asked you to dance and you threw a drink in my face.""I'd told you no enough times," said Neville."It made me angry. At you. At Oliver. Perfect Oliver, big, burly, sexy. And you had him, wanted him. But you were holding back, I could tell, and it was wearing on Oliver. I saw an opening and took it. He was at the bar, buying drinks, so I joined him there." Seamus took a drink of his Guinness. "I flirted. I can be quite the charmer when I want.""He wouldn't have flirted with you..."Seamus sighed. "You want me to tell the story or not?""Fine," said Neville."You'd been missing for a while, and he was clearly into the music, so I asked him to dance. He said something about being at the wedding with someone else, but I shrugged it off. It was just a dance, I told him, and he smiled and said okay. I got the impression he didn't go out much, he didn't react the way someone who is asked often to dance does. It was like... like he was flattered that I'd asked at all.""I asked if you kissed him.""No, you asked if he kissed me. I'm getting to that," said Seamus. "We danced. He's a good dancer, as I'm sure you know, but the dance music got fast and hot and he got close. I made sure he got close, I was on fire with need and I wanted him close, tight against me, rubbing. Close enough that I could feel him. He was excited, aroused, and fucking hot. I wanted him. You have to understand, Neville, that with the drugs I was on... it's a need, a primal drive once that happens.""He was with me!" growled Neville."I know. I'm telling you what happened," said Seamus, "I was just. I'm not trying to hurt you Neville, but you asked what happened, and that he was with you, for me, then, when I was not myself. It made it hotter for me, and I don't blame you if you hate me for that. Oliver and I, we got closer and ground together on the dance floor, and fuck he was sweating against me and I... I'm surprised neither of us lost control completely. I actually might have, I was on enough drugs that I could have easily done and not noticed. He kissed me as we moved together out on the dance floor. A real kiss. Hot, open mouthed, tongue seeking mine.""You're lying.""I'm not.""He loved me," said Neville, a little desperately."I think he did," said Seamus. "He was mortified, Neville, that he'd kissed me. Left me on the dance floor and went right to the bar to drink. Big mistake that. He'd probably only kissed me because he'd already had too much. I only glimpsed him over the next hour, out on the dance floor with you. Making a point of it. To be seen with you." Seamus sighed. "I forgot about him for a while. Thought Mayer looked rather hot in his dress robes. Never notice Hufflepuffs really unless they toss themselves up in front of you, and make you notice, but he was hot, nice body, touch of danger. If I couldn't get Wood, I thought, I'd go for Mayer. But the bloody Hufflepuff got himself claimed by a wolf. By this time, the drugs were on fire in my body. And I'd taken more, after Mayer pushed me away. My whole self worth when I was like that was that no one pushed me away, ever, and he had. And Ron... Ron was there and I felt that loss inside that I always felt when I saw him. So I took more. So much more.""More drugs Seamus? Were you trying to die?""Yes," said Seamus quietly. "Does that make you happy? To know I'd been hurting for so long I wanted it done? Only thing that made me happy was sex, and it was empty. So I made it matter with drugs. And by this time... I'd done some cruel things already on the drugs. Stolen for them. Helped people I shouldn't have, because they could hold something over me. I wasn't myself. I needed not to be, because the self without drugs, that self, the Seamus you knew in school. He wanted to die.""Fuck, Seamus, you could have come to us...""You?" asked Seamus. "All of you in your perfect relationships? No one could even get to Harry. Ron would have seen me I think, but I couldn't face him. I couldn't tell Dean, I felt like I'd failed, and I. I just couldn't. Parvati tried to get me clean, twice. But I... Recovery from drugs is brutal, Neville. I treated her like. Well, I don't blame her for giving up."Seamus took a long drink of his Guinness and looked at the table. "If I'd been smart I would have left the reception then. But I was filled with energy and bravado from all the extra drugs I'd taken after Mayer pushed me aside. And I was. Fuck, Neville, you don't know how it feels for your body to be on fire like that, to need to have sex right that instant, or you feel like you're going to die."Neville had a fleeting glimpse of feeling empty and desperate and slick with want. He'd chosen it, his heat. To be at the mercy of his mate. Had Seamus felt like that? Empty, burning with... He gulped. "I think I do, really. So what happened?""You and Oliver, you had a row. The two of you fighting quietly in a corner, and he buried himself afterwards with alcohol. Heavy stuff. He was complaining you wouldn't let him get close, he loved you so much, he wanted to be with you."Seamus gulped. "I can't defend what I did next, Neville. There isn't anything that will make it right. I wasn't in my right mind on all those drugs, but that doesn't change how wrong it was. I'd taken so much. Dust to enhance the senses, phyre to make everything sensual, ecstasy to grant intimacy, crystal meth to make me last, potency potions to help me be able to function under everything else. You'd turned me down, Neville, for him, so I was going to have him. And he'd told me what I needed to know, how to get him. I drugged him and convinced him to come with me to the carriages. But he wanted to come.""And?""There isn't more, Neville. Hermione has the rest. She took it.""If. If you hadn't used the drugs on him... would he have had sex with you?" asked Neville. There was fear in his voice, and sadness, and pain."Do you really want the honest answer to that?" asked Seamus, his voice harsh and cracked.Neville closed his eyes and the word came out very quietly. "Yes."Seamus hesitated, but finally answered. "I think he probably would have. I was so high, needing so badly, that I didn't have the patience to talk him into bed. But I expect I could have. I've. I've had a lot of practice, Neville.""Bastard.""Everyone has a dark side. The Carrows brought yours out. Drugs bring mine out. I can't defend the foulness that drugs provoke in me. I can't even say it's not me. I can only tell you that it's a lot like being under *Imperius*. I knew what I was doing, and I knew that it was wrong. But it was like I couldn't NOT do it.""Was it fun for you?" asked Neville bitterly. "Trying to ruin my love life?""Nothing was fun for me. Nothing was real to me. I'd had a feeling, something I'd lost. I know you know the pain of losing that feeling, because I know you lost it once too. I'd spent years trying to get it back. But it was never right. In fact it was always so very wrong that I could never bring myself to sleep with anyone else a second time. Pale imitations, even when I tried to enhance the feeling with drugs. Even when I tried to find the intimacy with drugs. It was closer, but it was never ever right.""Want me to feel sorry for you, Seamus?" asked Neville. "Well, I don't.""I'm not after your pity. And you shouldn't blame Oliver," said Seamus softly. "Not for the kiss, not for any of it. I'd made it my business to seduce people. I'd gotten very good at it."Neville was very quiet for a few minutes. Finally he looked up and spoke. "I. I didn't actually come to talk to you about that. I guess. I guess I just needed to hear it. To try to understand what happened."Seamus arched an eyebrow. "I would think you wouldn't want to hear it. But if it helps you. I know I hurt you and Oliver. All my friends. I don't like. When I came to myself, Neville, I was horrified that I had been capable of that. I deserve the punishment I got. The beatings, the curse. All of it. I am so sorry, I am.""It's not enough.""Needs saying anyway," said Seamus. "You said you needed something else?""Oliver was questioned again by aurors yesterday. They'd discovered, quite correctly apparently, that his teammates were the ones who attacked you. That Oliver knew and protected them.""But Puddlemere United plays this weekend.""Aurors don't care much about Quidditch. They took the players in. Oliver only escaped because he was the one that brought you in to St. Mungo's, and because he didn't participate in the attack. The team will have to forfeit. Oliver is heartbroken. He's. Quidditch is all he has left, Seamus," said Neville quietly. "I found Viktor, but Oliver. He's alone, and Quidditch was always what kept him going.""And you're coming to me? Why don't you ask Hermione? She's an Unspeakable.""Oh, Hermione could fix it," said Neville. "But she'd have to FIX it. It'd be too obvious, too heavy handed. The press would know. They'd dig. It's Skeeter we're talking about. He'd be ruined, Seamus. Emotionally even if he survived the press.""Hermione is more than capable of being subtle.""Sure," said Neville, "given enough time. There's none.""You think I can somehow fix this in just a bit more than a day?""You owe him, Seamus.""I do. I can never pay the debt. But I lied to the aurors. They didn't get the information from me. And Ron thinks Oliver did it, so don't think he turned them in. He knows how I feel about what I did to Oliver. He'd not put me in that position, he loves me too much.""I know they almost killed you. Oliver... he said they got carried away. But Oliver stopped them. You owe him for that.""I can never pay my debts to Oliver Wood. I know that. Why you? Why didn't he ask himself?""His owls are being watched. But it's not proper to listen in on the conversations of a hero, especially with an ex-lover. He talked to me. He can't ask you himself. But, Seamus, this would break him. They're going to win. Puddlemere. They were going to win this season."Seamus closed his eyes. "You didn't give me much time.""Can you do it?"Seamus sighed. "I will try."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Ron tackled Seamus when he walked out of the Floo and into the cottage. Seamus smiled as he gathered his husband in his arms and kissed the man soundly. "Love you.""You two are just sickeningly sweet," said Charlie calmly from the kitchen door. "I thought George and Ginny were going to escort him," said Seamus."Oh they did. We were here. Bringing you something. A housewarming gift," said Charlie. "This is your home. It belongs here.""What belongs here?" asked Seamus."Yeah, Charlie, you didn't say anything..." said Ron, still hanging off of Seamus, arms crossed at the wrist against the back of Seamus neck.Mikhael shook his head, standing just behind Charlie. "You are doing better, Ron. Good to see," said the calmly competent mediwizard. "It is a difficult gift to give. But I think. You are a family. It is right the entire family be here.""I don't understand," said Ron.Charlie led them into the small study that Bill had used as an office when the cottage had been his. In the corner there was a stone basin, carved elegantly around the edges."A pensieve?" asked Ron."That's," Seamus gasped. "Those are...""Very rare," said Mikhael."And very expensive," said Charlie, wincing a little. "You're lucky I love you." He tousled Ron's hair lightly, leading to an embarrassing squirm."I don't... why would we need a pensieve?""For these," said Mikhael, gesturing to the small glass cabinet, it's lower shelf full with tiny bottles of swirling mercurial strands of memory."But. What are they?" asked Seamus."They're memories, Shay," said Ron. "Dumbledore had a pensieve in his office he used to show Harry memories in.""Charlie and I. We both know what it is to lose a child..." began Mikhael."Both?" mouthed Ron.Charlie nodded. "Both of us. More than once. We. We keep trying. We're so proud of you Ron, that you're... I know it's hard to keep trying after."Seamus wrapped his arms around Ron, his hands protectively over Ron's belly."It's not really fair," said Mikhael. "You had a son. Sean lived for three days. I think, Ron, that you knew?"Ron nodded mutely."But neither of you. You didn't get to hold him, or see him," said Mikhael. "Three days seems like such short time, but your baby laughed, and he cried, and he held you desperately, Ron, like you were the most important thing in the world, even though you couldn't..."Ron was crying and so was Seamus."I would have been there," whispered Seamus, holding tightly to Ron. "I swear to you, if anyone had...""These are our memories. And Arthur's. And Molly's. Of your son. Even Madam Pomfrey offered the memory of the birth, painful though it was," said Mikhael. "Sean was never left alone. It's a complete record," his voice caught. "The good and the bad. It's the life of your son. It belongs to both of you. So you can remember him as more than an idea. So that he is here, with you, always."Ron shook. Seamus had his eyes closed, his arms wrapped around Ron as tears trailed down his face.Charlie set a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Don't forget to live. It's easy to get caught up... I. We," Charlie stumbled over the words. "You have people who understand, Ron. If you need to talk.""You also, Seamus," said Mikhael. "Either of you. Whenever you need. Our Floo is open."Ron and Seamus stood together shaking, their faces red with tears. "I... I don't know what to say," said Ron."Love each other," said Charlie. "And never let what the public thinks, or what Mum thinks keep you from each other."Charlie and Mikhael left quietly in a flash of light from the Floo. Seamus held Ron, gently. "You alright?""No. I. I'm not ready," said Ron. "To watch that. To see. I'm not. I don't know if I'll ever be.""We'll," Seamus sighed, rubbing little circles into Ron's back. "We'll watch it together, sweet. When you're ready."Ron nodded quietly and pulled away, taking Seamus hand and leading him from the room. Once away from the study Ron held Seamus tightly and let himself fall apart. Seamus waited out the sobs and the cries, holding Ron tenderly the entire time, until finally the tears dried up, and Ron's face was buried in Seamus' shoulder, the robes soaked through with tears. Seamus lifted him then, carrying Ron into the bedroom. Their bedroom! Elation hit his heart hard alongside the concern for his husband. Seamus laid Ron down gently and sat beside him."You okay?""No. Never going to be okay. Not about that."Seamus looked away. "I'm sorry."Ron's hand seized his and squeezed. "I lost the baby. It wasn't your fault. I don't blame you.""I would have loved him.""You do love him," said Ron. "That's what matters to me. And you love this son too," said Ron, dragging Seamus' hand over his stomach. "And when he explodes things in his cauldron at Hogwarts, my little firecracker... I look forward to blaming it on you!"They laughed together then, and held each other. Then Ronald looked at him seriously. "What did Neville...""He still hates me," said Seamus softly."Why then?""Oliver. He's in trouble. It was the team that beat me, Ron. Not Oliver. He stopped them. Brought me to St. Mungo's himself.""Puddlemere is supposed to play this weekend.""And the aurors are holding the team. All of it, except Oliver. He's just being watched.""Neville wants you to fix it somehow," said Ron, understanding. "They beat you." Ron sat up and kissed him on the back of the shoulder. "They could have killed you.""Sweet. I deserved it.""No," said Ron. "No, you didn't."They were quiet for a few minutes, Ron leaning against Seamus' back, his cheek against Seamus' shoulder, as Seamus sat at the edge of the bed. "You have less than two days. And you've wasted hours here with me.""Those weren't wasted, sweet.""Can you fix it?" asked Ron. He knew Seamus had grown powerfully connected over the years. His playboy persona had gathered him all the right contacts, and as many people cherished their one night in bed with him as hated him for it.Seamus nodded. "I can.""Will he forgive you for what happened? If you fix it.""No," said Seamus softly."But you're going to do it anyway, aren't you?"Seamus smiled and turned to Ron, tousling his hair playfully. "Do you think I shouldn't?""They hurt you, firecracker," said Ron, the fear in his voice palpable. "They could have killed you. I'd have been alone.""Let me do this, sweet. I. I can't let them take Quidditch away from him because of me."Ron shook his head. "You're asking permission?""I'll," Seamus flushed. "I may have to do some rather unsavory things.""You're my husband, Shay," said Ron, the warning in his voice plain."And I won't forget it," said Seamus, kissing Ron tenderly. "Nothing... nothing so blatant or sexual. I promise.""Good," said Ron, his fingers sliding down to cup Seamus' groin, "'cause this here. This is mine.""Inside you, sweet," whispered Seamus, leaning forward to brush the ridge of Ron's ears with his lips. "Inside you deep, tonight. I promise."Ron smiled. "You'd better.""I will."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------Knockturn Alley was full of shadows, even in full daylight. The tall buildings that flanked the alley let in little light, and the atmosphere was one of darkness, of men in black cloaks and hoods, of witches selling questionable charms. Seamus walked out of the small book shop carrying a small selection of books that was his excuse for being here. Books that could not be found at Flourish and Blotts, and would be illegal for him to own, were he not, himself, a Master of Fire.He glanced quietly about and made his way into another of the establishments. The bar was thoroughly disreputable, the booths so dark that even one's drinking companion could scarcely be seen for the shadows. Slim forms, young, some of them, Seamus knew, too young, with pretty faces and little clothing beneath their robes, wrapped themselves seductively around the clientele. They spoke in touches and with deft skilled fingers, and tempted with lips and tongues spelled to silence, and sold their bodies for the sport of the less scrupulous and the glory of a master whose skills as a teacher could not be bought with just gold. Seamus grimaced and made sure the robes of the few that chose to wrap around him before he took his seat had gold in their pockets. He'd paid his dues to his master on this floor. As the master's favorite he had been allowed the conceit of only allowing a patron to have his services once. It made him inaccessible, desirable. He'd made his master rich, servicing wizards of ill-repute. The current boy's hand tried to dig into Seamus' trousers but Seamus stilled it and shook his head, dropping galleons more than the young man could expect in a week into the pocket of his robes. "Wrap around me boy," he said, unbuttoning his shirt so the boy could slide a hand against the skin of his chest. "A hand here. Your lips on my neck. No marks, or your master will hear. Look pretty, seductive, and convince everyone I'm here for you and I'll double the sum." And so Seamus sat, a young man wrapped against him, kissing distractingly at his neck, one hand seeking against his chest, as he sat and waited.It was some time before his drinking companion arrived, head hidden deep in a black cloak, striding in graceful steps before sitting in the booth with him, a wand wave deepening the shadows of the booth to anyone outside, and then another silencing the air around them so that even the young man nuzzled against Seamus' neck could not hear their words."Seamus, darling," said Pansy, her features barely visible beneath the cowl. "Did it have to be here?""I'm aware of your preferences, Parkinson," said Seamus quietly. "You'd never be caught dead in an establishment like this... which makes it perfect for our purposes.""And you?""A cloaked wizard here for pleasure. My identity in this establishment is safe enough. And the boy can't speak of it, his master's binding prevents it.""I have been reading interesting things in the Prophet," said Pansy. "Things about you that I am hesitant to believe. A Weasley? A man I can understand. I know," she said looking knowingly at the figure wrapped around him, "that you have a taste for such pleasures. But a Weasley?""Is it that important?""You have not come to me for anything in a long time, Seamus, darling. I was beginning to think you...""I'm not here for drugs or potions, Pansy," said Seamus. "Pity," she said coldly, her lips set in a tight line. "What then?""I need a favor, love," said Seamus. "Something of a challenge for your talents.""And why should I give you this favor?" asked Pansy."Promised, aren't you?" said Seamus. "To Lord Zabini, the younger.""Blaise and I are...""We can do this the easy way, Pansy, or the hard way," said Seamus coldly, his eyes burning fire. "I'm sure your would be husband would prefer certain details of his true affections to remain unknown. Certain words he squeals when he comes to completion. Words I'm sure, even after the fulfillment of your promise, that you, Pansy, have never heard.""Threatening me is not your best way to gain favor.""I'm sure. Just as I'm sure that you would love as a gesture of your contrition for squealing on Harry at Hogwarts, to sponsor a performance of the phoenix lament at your wedding. No one needs to know the performance was performed as a... gift.""You would...""Blaise does squeal so prettily," said Seamus. "Almost made me want to break my rule."Pansy gulped. "An act of contrition. Me? A pure blood? No one would believe it.""You and Blaise are not so rich to be tossing the sum a performance like that costs about at whim. They will believe what the money tells them." He slid a bag to her that gingled heavily with galleons. "So that you can pay for your contrition, and no one will know that it was a gift," he said quietly."And what is this princely gift and the silence that accompanies it buying?" asked Pansy. "The pride of Puddlemere is being held at the Ministry.""Beat you to a bloody pulp, I heard."Seamus nodded."They have no idea what danger they were in, do they?""No. And it's best that remain the case," said Seamus. "I owe... a debt of sorts to Oliver Wood.""His whole life is Quidditch.""And he's about to lose it," said Seamus with a nod. "The year Puddlemere was finally in reach of winning for the season.""They were seen beating you, Seamus.""By few. I need dozens of stories. I need people in bars reading the Prophet and talking about the nonsense, about how sure they were that they'd seen it done by someone else. Different stories, different places, by different qualities of people that will withstand questioning by an auror.""That will require...""I know.""Are you paying a life debt, Seamus?" asked Pansy."There's more."She sighed. "Of course there is. You should let that boy touch you, Seamus. He has beautiful fingers.""I have no doubt. But I know what is on the fingers, love. I was one of these boys once too."Pansy scowled. "Pity. Losing your business has been rather a blow. You used to buy a lot of drugs, darling."Seamus nodded, very briefly in acknowledgment."So, there was more?" she asked."Four aurors on the team that took them. Two of them are old partners of mine who have wives that are, as yet, unaware of their continuing infidelities with former associates," Seamus glanced at the boy who was lavishing his neck with open mouthed kisses, "and can be influenced to look elsewhere, given the conflicting information they'll soon be hearing. Another is a customer of yours, I believe..." "I won't kill him.""I'd never ask you to. But he could be brought to particular planes of pleasure that would safely displace him.""You're asking a lot.""Nonsense, he's quite attractive and rather more formidable between his legs than Blaise... trust me, I know. Besides, with what you'll be giving him, it should give you reasonable amounts of pleasure for hours."Pansy's lips curled slightly in a smile. "You've changed since you seduced Weasley into your bed, darling. And away from Granger, too. I'm surprised you risked that. Bloody witch casts a vicious curse.""He is worth it," said Seamus quietly. "We're agreed then?""How soon.""The news will need to make the evening edition of the Prophet for them to be released in time.""That will take handling of Skeeter. She doesn't handle easily," said Pansy."I will handle Skeeter," said Seamus. "I need you to influence the owner of Puddlemere United. They are to have a charity display at the game. Something they'd have to cancel were they to forfeit, something already paid for that he will forfeit the money paid if the team doesn't play. A pyromancy spectacle planned to celebrate their win and give homage to an old Gryffindor housemate of Wood's, Colin Creevey, that was killed in the final battle. His brother, Dennis, just finished at Hogwarts recently. Both born to a Muggle family, and the loss of his brother went largely unrecognized outside the house." Seamus gave her a pointed look. "Obviously, he's unaware of the need for such a display just yet.""Why?""I have some of Colin's pictures, Pansy. He was a gifted photographer.""You just need an excuse for the owner to push hard to get the team out in time.""That too.""Gifted?""Photographed Ron in the shower starkers for me. Blushed mightily, but took the photos all the same. Still have them. They're breathtaking.""Seriously, darling...""Oh, he took pictures of you, too. Had a flourishing business in clandestine photos. It wasn't just pictures of Harry.""I don't suppose you have these photos?""No, but I have the name of the wizard who does. Do the job well, love, and I'll give you the name for you to thank him for his worship of you personally. I know you won't be able to make do with just Blaise.""You'd have made a good Slytherin, Seamus."Seamus grinned. "My young man here needs some release. I do suggest you wash his fingers before you take him, Pansy. It wouldn't do for you to end up addicted to your own drugs, and I do know how you love to bugger a boy while polyjuiced."Seamus dispelled the silence as Pansy drained her polyjuice potion. He looked at the boy and slid some more gold into his pockets. "Scream prettily for my friend. He's got a long night in front of him." The young man smiled as he climbed onto the table and stripped off his robe. His screams had already begun as Seamus made his way out of the establishment and disapparated.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------"Finnigan," said a voice behind him.Seamus was in the lockerrooms beneath the Quidditch pitch. The lament he'd painstakingly created still burned, perfect replica's of Colin's most famous photos burning, moving, immense, floating over the fans. He'd been sure to procure the picture of Oliver, to make it central in the tribute, though of course many of Harry had been included as well.Dennis Creevey and his family had watched the lament in fire with wide eyes. Muggles were not normally permitted such open views of magic, and it had taken quiet intervention by the Department of Mysteries to get authorization. In the midst of photos of heroes, from Oliver to the ubiquitous photos of Harry that the hero worshiping Colin had taken so frequently were others. Photos of Albus Dumbledore, of Fawkes' final flight at Dumbledore's funeral. Photos of Cedric Diggory that had been used in the Tri-Wizard coverage. Photos of Dennis and his parents, of Muggle life. Then there were the photos so many didn't know he had taken. The consummate photographer, Colin had carried his camera even into the last battle, and during the quiet moments, before he'd been killed, he'd taken photos even of that horrific event. And someone, Seamus guessed it to be Neville, had taken one final picture, of Colin, laying amidst the bodies in the great hall. And they were there, in the air, burning. It was a moving display, Seamus knew it, though it lacked the artistic flair his laments usually carried. In this, Seamus had trusted Colin's art. To obfuscate it with his own would have been unfair."Finnigan," the voice repeated. It was an unwanted voice. One he had no wish to face. "I'm not deaf," said Seamus quietly, "despite the best efforts of your fans."Oliver was quiet, standing in his Quidditch uniform, still holding his broom. "Why?""You called," said Seamus. "Did you think I would not come?""You... you got them all released. I still don't understand how you did it," said Oliver. "I. They did it, Seamus. They beat you. Almost killed you. And you got them released.""Best they don't know that, yeah," said Seamus. "Best no one knows.""How?""You're a good man, Wood," said Seamus, "so it's best you don't know the details. Skeeter is bound from discussing the truth, but that doesn't mean she won't try to dig.""You bound Rita Skeeter?""Well, I couldn't sleep with her this time, could I?" replied Seamus softly, under his breath. Then louder he continued, "She'll be doing a piece on Colin tomorrow, with enough detail for her to be considered a bit of a star at the Prophet. You'll be featured prominently, as will the photos of you and the great hall after the final battle.""You're making me...""A celebrity. Yes. A step up, Oliver, even over what you're used to.""You can't think this fixes things."Seamus shook his head. "I didn't do it to fix things. It had to be a spectacle to get Rita to go along with it. She's a touchy witch, and more than a bit put out that I wouldn't persuade her the way I did the last time I needed her manipulations of the press.""Oh." Oliver turned and hung his head a little."You asked, in the hospital, for me not to take Quidditch away from you. It was your team that was taking it away. Not me. They wanted to teach me a lesson and I... I deserved it, Wood, but they made themselves less than what they are when they beat me to death. And that's what it was, when they beat me, Wood, because they only stopped because you were there.""They're not murderers.""Only because you interfered to stop them.""You," Oliver's voice got very quiet. "You deserved it.""To die?""Yes," said Wood, his voice very quiet. "You took...""I didn't have what your teammates had, Oliver. I didn't have someone to stop me. Everyone had given up on me and I was alone, and drunk, and drugged. Have you ever used phyre, Oliver?"The blush on his cheeks gave Seamus his answer."Dust?"Oliver shook his head vigorously. "Dangerous shit. Even phyre... I mean... so fucking dangerous...""Imagine combining the two. And adding more, so much more. And not having anyone there to stand in my way, to call me off, to tell me to...""You have to stop yourself," said Oliver. "We all do.""Like your teammates did?""They're not murderers.""They were stopped in the midst of what they were doing. Not before they did it, in the middle, Wood. They were murdering me to punish me for hurting you.""Even you admitted that you deserved it!" said Wood."That I deserve it does not make what they did right. They tried to kill me. To kill me, Wood. And you have already forgiven them for that. Perhaps I might understand if they knew what I'd done to you. But they don't know, do they?"Oliver shook his head. "No.""They think I slept with Neville, don't they?"Oliver nodded mutely. "I. I think so.""You should go," said Seamus quietly. "Your public wants you.""They don't want me," said Oliver. "No one wants me, not really.""I did. Got me into a lot of trouble.""You just...""I wanted you, Oliver. It wasn't just drugs that made me want you. You're worth wanting.""No one even knows me, Finnigan. How are they supposed to want me?"Seamus sat down on the bench that ran down the center of the row of lockers. "You want to talk about that with me?" asked Seamus. "I'd think I'd be the last person...""Only other people I have are Neville and Krum. And, coincidentally, one is my ex-lover and the other is his husband. It's not exactly comfortable.""But this is?""No," said Oliver, "it's insane.""I didn't sign up to give you a pep talk, Oliver. I spent a great deal of influence getting your teammates released. Teammates who still want to kill me," said Seamus. "I have poured my soul into a lament and a performance that will make your win famous. I have manipulated the most vicious reporter in our world into running a story she doesn't want to run. I came when you called, Oliver.""You took Neville from me.""I didn't," said Seamus."He. He would have tried. He would have kept trying. You made it so he couldn't lie to himself about us anymore.""You really love him, don't you?" asked Seamus.Oliver nodded miserably."The only part of what I did, Oliver, that is good, is that it broke you and Neville up.""Fuck you, Finnigan!""Do you really want an empty relationship?" asked Seamus, standing defiantly. "Something fake that decays and breeds resentment. Do you really think one half of a couple being in love is enough?""He... he was beautiful!""Inside and out. Yes, he is.""And you took that from me!" said Oliver. "You did.""He was trying, Oliver, but his heart. He was still too wrapped in Luciano. You helped him get distance, and he needed it. That distance, it's what helped him find Krum. You gave that to him. It's a gift, to have helped him through what you did.""Great. And so I'm alone, talking with someone who fucking violated me, because I have... FUCK. Do you have any idea how worthless I feel, Seamus?""It didn't help, did it? The win, I mean.""Not really, no," said Oliver sullenly."Do you want it, to feel worth it?""I want a lover, a companion, something real." Oliver slid to the floor and put his face in his hands. "I want what I thought I had with Neville.""And what am I supposed to do?""Fix it!""Like I did with the situation at the Ministry?""Yes.""It's not the same. I think you know that.""Please. This. This is what I need."Seamus swallowed softly. "Do not make me beg, Seamus. Not of you. Not after what you did to me.""You should go and see the Creeveys," said Seamus. "They will want to thank you for honoring their son.""They should be thanking you.""I do not deserve their thanks," said Seamus, "or yours. I am paying a debt.""And will you pay it?""If it is what you need," said Seamus, "then I will see it done."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.------By the time Seamus made his way back up out of the locker rooms and into the open air of the pitch, the crowds had thinned considerably. The fire of his tribute still burned, fading, the images still recognizable as the duplicated movements of the photos continued to replay in sculpted fire. Dennis and his family were looking, spellbound, at the tribute, their faces in tears.The team's owner was busy in a corner, talking to reporters. Seamus allowed himself a smile. Pansy's manipulations were never less than perfect. He'd speak glowingly of how happy he'd been to spend the thousands of galleons the performance had cost. Thousands of galleons that Seamus had, himself, provided, through yet another of his less savory contacts, quietly manipulating the financial records so that his secret generosity would never be known or seen.He looked around the pitch. Dennis was not the only Gryffindor who had stayed. Seamus recognized many of the faces. He felt the twinge of guilt as he recognized Hermione. Showing now. He hadn't noticed when she came to the Burrow when Ron... Seamus felt the fear fill him again and stumbled to a nearby post for support."You okay, firecracker?" a voice behind him. An impossible voice."Sweet?" he croaked out.Hands wrapped around his waist, lips touched his neck. He shuddered softly against the touches, his hands seeking Ron's. He allowed himself the luxury of enjoying Ron's heat against his back for a moment."The display was spectacular," said Ron. "The lament for Colin very touching."Seamus pulled Ron's arms tighter around him. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to...""Used Muggle transport to London," said Ron, "then came the rest of the way with 'Mione by car. She wanted to talk. Concerned about me. With the... with everything.""She loves you," said Seamus softly. "She still angry?""Not enough to hex us. But she did say... Seamus, you went to your master's house.""I didn't let them touch me. Not that way. I needed an innocuous meeting place, somewhere I'd be safe.""And you chose a den of phyre?""I was one of those young men once, Ron."Ron closed his eyes. "I know. I hate it."They were still standing that way, Ron wrapped around Seamus from behind, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of holding and of being held, when someone cleared their throat in front of them.Seamus eyes shot open. Oliver was there, with the Creeveys.Seamus nodded weakly. "Wood," he said, barely keeping his voice from cracking. "Dennis. And you must be Dennis' parents."Mrs. Creevey wiped a tear from her eyes. "It was so nice of Oliver to... I mean. My little Colin..." She was visibly fighting to keep the tears from overwhelming her and her husband stepped forward."Oliver tells us that you were the person who... who did this," he said, gesturing towards the slowly fading fire in the sky."I was also Gryffindor," said Seamus. "And I remember Colin well. He was a gifted photographer.""We know," said Mr. Creevey. "But, we didn't. I've seen some of these photos in your wizarding newspaper. Dennis showed me. But I didn't know he... I didn't know they were Colin's."Seamus pulled away from Ron for a moment and pulled out his bag. "I. I asked a colleague to help me pull this together," he said quietly. "I needed it for the display, but some of Colin's most moving pieces were... He took a picture of the wards collapsing at Hogwarts that is breathtaking, but it loses its impact sculpted in flame, because the impact of the photo is Hogwarts being taken that way, the wards flaming and falling from the sky." Seamus ruffled through objects in his bag and pulled out a photo album. "It's all the pictures I used building the tribute for your son. Some of those photos were very rare, sometimes the only copy known to exist, and I purchased a number of them from private collections. I. I thought you might like to have it. I asked a friend at the Muggle artifacts office to spell them so that you could see the motion that wizards see when they look at your son's work.""You mean... the movements in your... that's how the photos actually look? They... they move?" asked Mrs. Creevey.Seamus nodded. "They do. And it takes a talented artist to catch a good shot when you need to catch more than just a single moment. Your son was very talented."Mrs. Creevey launched herself at him, embracing him through her tears. "Thank you. Thank you so..."Seamus patted her back lightly. "It's okay. He was a Gryffindor. He should be remembered."She released him clutched the photo album to her chest, trying to hold back tears. Mr. Creevey shook Seamus hand and then went to console his wife. Dennis stood there awkwardly."You miss him," said Seamus quietly.Dennis nodded. "Of course I miss him.""It was a very Gryffindor thing for him to do. To rush into the battle even though he was too young.""Colin was always getting himself into trouble," said Dennis, wiping away a tear. "Our dad... he's a milk man. He'd never thought. The tribute was beautiful. I know you must have had. I mean, I know it's not so simple, that you had some reason of your own. But thank you for that all the same. I know you paid for them to be able to come. I know you must have. I mean, Muggles aren't supposed to see such things.""You're right," said Seamus quietly. "We had reasons. I hope you'll forgive me for that.""I. I just miss him. He was my big brother. I miss the constant annoying picture taking. He was good at catching you at your most embarrassing."Ron smiled at that. There was a picture somewhere of Ron vomiting slugs when a curse had backfired."He was. I know you're Muggleborn. But there are traditions. Wizarding traditions. Things worth upholding. Not all pure blood nonsense is bad."Ron chuckled at that. Seamus pulled a frame out of his bag. "I found this when I was searching for some of the rarer photos for the tribute. Seems Colin sat for a portrait from a fellow Muggleborn who was fascinated by wizarding portraits. It was painted the year Dumbledore was killed. It's a proper wizarding portrait, Dennis. Families are meant to have galleries of them, of cherished relatives.""You mean... it can. It can talk to me?""It's a memory, Dennis," said Seamus, "But yes, it can talk to you. Interact even, in a limited sort of way.""You... this must have cost a fortune!""Several. I can't give this to your parents. I was pushing the line of what is permitted just by giving them the album, spelled the way it was. But I can certainly give it to you.""Why?""Because you should have it," said Seamus.Dennis took the frame hesitantly before stammering out a thank you and returning to his parents.Oliver watched the boy go. "That was generous.""We used their pain, Wood. To help get your team free. To help make this the spectacle I needed to get Skeeter's cooperation. They... they deserved some generosity."The team came then, seeing Seamus. "Back you bastard?" said the seeker."Turned us in, you bloody..."Ron stepped in front of Seamus, wand drawn, but Seamus grasped his hand gently and pushed it aside, resting a hand on his stomach. "Let me handle this, sweet."The seeker pushed forward, flanked by beaters. "Hiding behind your hero boyfriend?""Husband," said Seamus softly, "and no.""Oi, mates," said Wood, "Don't you do this again...""He hurt you, Oliver. He needs to pay.""I paid. You beat me almost to death," said Seamus.Ron stiffened at that, anger plain on his face."Need to pay again," said one of the beaters, "fucking squealing to the aurors.""Last time I had nothing to lose," said Seamus, his voice hard. "This time I have a husband and a child who would lose a father.""Think you could take us?" said the seeker.A crown of fire erupted into being over Seamus' head, twisted lengths of fire in his hands. He cracked one of the lengths casually. "I expect I could manage."The beater fell backwards onto his arse, scrambling back. "Fucking Master of Fire...""Leave him alone," said Oliver fiercely, "before you do something stupid and end up back in auror custody," he glanced meaningfully at Seamus, "or dead."The rest of the team got the beater to his feet and retreated. Oliver shook his head sadly. "I. I'll talk to them," he said, turning and following the team as it headed back to the locker rooms.The crown of fire faded, the lengths of fire in Seamus' hands dissipating. Strong hands wrapped around Seamus body and lips pressed into his neck. "You're so fucking hot like that," said Ron his hands seeking into Seamus' robes.Seamus swatted the hand away. "Public place, sweet.""Fuck... I wanna apparate! I want you..."Seamus turned and kissed him briefly. "I love you sweet," he said breaking away. "But we should probably find Hermione and get you home."Ron shook his head. "She's dropping us at a hotel near the station. They have a honeymoon suite. It's waiting just for us. Chocolate-covered strawberries, romantic music, a nice, giant, massive bed.""Sounds lovely," said Seamus. "Let's go."Of course they couldn't just go. They were stopped by Rita Skeeter, for comments on the performance, and by Dean, who noted how good they looked together and Minerva McGonagall, once head of their house in school, who had made the trip from Scotland to see the tribute and spent a good twenty minutes repeating all the angry disappointment in them she'd put into the Howlers she'd sent them. When she was done she paid Seamus a rare compliment on the tribute and the lament and the victory display that had preceded it. Then she set a hand on Ron's shoulder, expressed her happiness at his recovery, and remarked in a rather bittersweet tone that they looked rather good together.After their encounter with McGonagall, they were both happy to reach Hermione, who was quiet and rather somber. She greeted them almost reluctantly as if only now coming to the realization that driving Ron to the match had meant also driving Seamus from it. Her fingers itched, tapping lightly against her wand, but she drove them without incident, leaving them at the door to the hotel and then speeding to the station to catch the last train back to London.The hotel was rather small and cozy, and the honeymoon suite rather quietly elegant, not that either of them saw much of it. Once inside the room, they surrendered to their passions completely, lips meeting lips, hands roaming against each other, undoing buttons and pulling belts free and trousers open and shirts off. They shuffled slowly through the rooms of the suite and into the bedroom pushing and pulling and touching each other through each shift of step until Seamus stood against the back of the bed, it's edge pressed against the backs of his bare thighs, his trousers and pants in a heap around his feet.Seamus fell backwards onto the bed, pulling Ron on top of him, kicking at his trousers until they fell from his feet, leaving them both naked except for their socks. Ron ground into him, bare cock rubbing against bare cock, and Seamus' hands found Ron's arse, pulling them closer, tighter, their lips and tongues and breath seeking hot and desperate against each other. Seamus slid down Ron's body, even as he bent his knees and reached backward to tear socks from his feet. He kissed at Ron's chest as he slid, at his stomach, at that desperately lovely place where his groin began, at the fiery patch of hair from which his cock sprung. And then he swallowed Ron completely his nose resting against that patch of fire as he bobbed and sucked and teased with his teeth as Ron writhed beneath him, pleading to keep going and to stop before it was too late and saying something beautiful about how Seamus' tongue was the most amazing thing he'd ever felt and how that heat, that hot heat was too much to take and then Seamus felt the truth of that as Ron came and came and came, hot stickiness filling his mouth and dribbling from the side to drip down the side of Ron's pulsing cock."S-sorry," murmured Ron, his body still shaking from the tremors of his orgasm. "Didn't mean to... wanted to last for you.""Mmmm," said Seamus as he licked Ron's chest lovingly with a tongue still coated heavily in Ron's cum. "Forgive you."And then they lay together, just kissing for a while, Ron reveling in the forbidden act of tasting himself on Seamus' tongue. Their hands roamed freely against each other, their bodies taking turns pressed against the silky softness of the sheets. Ron's hand slid against Seamus' hip, against the hint of a swell."Fuck, Shay... you're. You're ripe."Seamus shuddered and kissed him suddenly hard, burning with passion. "Merlin, I love you," he said as he pulled away and sat up. He tried to catch his breath and swallowed. "I've never been...""Shh, love. I didn't mean...""Do you. Do you want to?"Ron sat up and pulled Seamus to him. "I want to do what will feel good for both of us.""Would you make it feel good?" asked Seamus nervously."Shay... I didn't say it so that you would...""I meant it," said Seamus kissing Ron soundly and then sliding onto his stomach, seeking pillows to wedge under his hips. "I've never...""You want me to..."Seamus looked at him with eyes smoldering heat.Ron looked at the slender body laid out beneath him, the slim hips, the lovely rounded globes of arse. He shuddered as he draped himself over top that beauty, kissing his way down Seamus' back before reaching his arse and gently spreading Seamus apart to lick tentatively at his entrance. Seamus clenched against Ron's tongue, his body trembling. Ron settled his face into that crevasse, inhaling the sweaty heat of musk, of Seamus. His tongue touched that entrance again, licking, tasting. It was heavenly and Ron delved into it deeply, inflamed, worshiping the taste and touch of his firecracker, his love. His tongue slathered Seamus' arse, licking at his hole and then pressing and pushing. Seamus, normally the more soft spoken in sex, a person of whispered nothings against soft flesh, howled and began to scream. Ron smiled and pressed deeper, licking, spitting, pressing until Seamus hole was swollen and wet from his affections."Fuck, Ron, I want it, fuck...""Wands," hissed Ron, "Need. Cast. Charm."Seamus hand gripped Ron's. "Ripe. Ripe for you. For us."Ron shuddered against him. "Sure?""Sweet," Seamus' arse wriggled against the hard flesh nestled against it. "Fill me.""Need wand. No lube.""Wet. Wet from you, sweet. Just. Just push."Ron froze. Fuck. Seamus wriggled his arse, his hand reaching back for Ron's hip and it took every ounce of Ron's non-existent control to keep from sinking into him to the hilt right then."Don't want to hurt you, my fire.""No hurt. Love. Deep. Want to feel it. Want... oh fuck. Want to feel. fuckfuckfuck. Yes. This. Fuck sweet. Do it. Make us. Oh fucking Christ!" Seamus hands wrapped over his and squeezed hard as his face formed a grimace. "Don't want to.""Fucking push, Ron..."Then there was the sudden slip as Ron was in him and the cry of pain as Seamus saw white. Ron struggled with the sudden tight heat, with the need to move. Seamus was trembling beneath him, taking very slow breaths, very deep breaths. Then there was a wriggle and a push against him that took Ron deeper and a long exhaled, "Yeeeesssss.""I... I can move.""Yeeesss, fuck, sweet, you could have... could have told me.""What?""That it was. Fuck. So perfect. You fucking inside me. Ugh. Yes. Ugh. Do it, sweet, fucking oh... oh... OH FUCKING GOD YES!!!" Ron smiled. He'd found it. He adjusted his angle and then began to thrust as gently as he could, deep grinding thrusts that didn't move him much. He was grateful just now for the extra give of foreskin, letting him slide within that bit of give within the skin. Seamus moaned beneath him, screaming each time when he hit that spot, begging him to go harder, deeper.Eventually Ron lost the control that kept him from obliging. He felt Seamus wince underneath him as the thrusts began to get long again. Desperately he pulled out long enough to spit and lick at Seamus hole and then slide in him again, bringing forth a long desperate moan. He shuddered against Seamus and then began to thrust hard. He was so fucking close."Oh sweet, oh fuck FUCK yes, Oh God. Right there. Merlin fucking YES YES YES don't stop. Need you sweet. So fucking YES. Oh... oh fuck. Oh fuck," Seamus was screaming beneath him, so hot wriggling flesh and he was so... oh god, so tight.Ron bit into Seamus shoulder to keep himself from screaming as he came, and came, and kept coming for what seemed like ages. He'd never come so hard in his life. He'd never filled someone so much. Never, he realized with chagrin, wanted to fill someone so much. Like he wanted Seamus. His firecracker. Forever.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Disclaimer: All ATWT characters the property of P&G/Telenext. Harry Potter and the characters associated with that universe belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic. No copyright infringement intended. No profit made from this fiction.Warnings: alternate universe, graphic sex, arranged marriages, mpreg, infidelity, reference to non-consensual sex. Note that this is a side story based on the events of Promised, a fic written for the Nuke Bigbang 2012 that combined a Nuke and a Drarry fic.IMPORTANT: This story is a side story and is based on the events of my previous story, Promised. The ATWT crossover is minimal, though characters DO appear, and these will make the most sense if you read Promised first.
A/N: For those who made it this far, thanks for reading! This story was originally written to redeem Seamus and also give Oliver a happy ending. Obviously I only succeeded on one of those two points. There is an additional side story "The Trouble with Mourning Wood" that deals with Oliver and his recovery. I'll begin posting it soon, but probably not on the rigorous daily schedule that I've done for this one, and I may post an unrelated Snarry in between as a break. Again, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!
------"Stay with Hermione, boys. Rose.""Do we have to?" came the chorus of voices."Yes," said Hermione. "Stay here with me. All of you.""But Mum," cried Rose quietly, "I wanna go!""Shh, love," said Hermione. "Your dad and your da just need a moment.""They're going to see Sean, aren't they?" asked Rose, watching as the two men headed towards a grove at the edge of the Burrow."Who is Sean?" asked one of the boys. He was eight, just like Rose, his wavy hair a sandy hue, touched with strawberry in the bright light of summer, eyes crystal blue."Sean was your brother, Aedan," said Hermione softly. "He left us a long time ago.""Were you his Mum?" asked the other boy. This one had fire red hair, his eyes neither blue nor green but a rather unique mixture of both. "No, Colin. Your dad carried him in his belly, just like he did Aedan.""And Da carried me. And you carried Rose?""That's right, Colin.""He died, didn't he?" asked Aedan. "Sean. Like. Like the last..."Hermione gulped. Seamus had borne a girl, Molly. She lived only slightly longer than Sean had and was buried in the grove with him. "Yes," she said quietly. "Your Da was very brave to... well. Lots of dads, they stop trying after they lose a baby. Your dads... they swore they'd keep whatever blessings they were given. That's why you have so many brothers.""Are Errak and Fred coming?" asked Colin. He had bonded with Errak immediately, just as Aedan had with Fred."All the Weasleys are coming," said Hermione softly. "And your Uncle Harry and Uncle Draco are bringing the Grimaldis too, so Charlene will be here.""Oh good!" exclaimed Rose. "Boys are messy," she said, making a face at Colin. "It'll be nice to play with Charlene."There was a clatter as the door from the kitchen swung shut and a tall dark skinned man carrying a little boy of about three came out and set a hand lightly on Hermione's back. "They okay?" he asked."I think so. It's hard for them," she said quietly, as the trio ran about, playing a game that involved balls of energy filled with something that was somewhere between slime and paint getting flung at each other and exploding in bursts of colorful messiness. Hermione leaned against her husband. "They lose two it seems, for every one they bring to term. I can't... I'm amazed they...""They love their children," said Dean. "Even the ones they lost."Hermione nodded. "They'll beat out Molly soon. Five children, all boys.""And a girl, love, with you."Hermione smiled as her eyes sought out Rose. She had a splat of blue gunk across her dress and was casting one of the balls full of purple goo at Aedan's head, with rather fantastic accuracy. It splattered and there were tears as Aedan fell to the ground and screamed. Abruptly Rose's hair turned green and then there was shouting and long suffering sighs from both Dean and Hermione as they set things to rights.Molly and Arthur appeared then, in the company of the missing three boys, one clutched around Arthur's leg, and one in each of their arms. "Everything alright out here?""Just a bit of magical mischief," said Hermione."To be expected," said Dean. "They'll all be off to Hogwarts soon."It got very crazy then as Harry and Draco arrived. Unexpectedly the already at Hogwarts Slytherin, Teddy, was with them.Molly smiled broadly. "Minerva let you bring him, Harry?" She said, hugging him as best she could with the bundle in her arms. "Let? Let!" said Draco from behind Harry. "Bloody encouraged, she did. He gets into trouble like..." he laughed. "Like Harry used to. We bloody well sent him to live in the dorms at Slytherin this year, and I think it was a mistake.""You survived them," said Dean with a laugh."He's not surviving in them! He's become a bleedin' manipulator!" Draco slapped the green haired boy lightly in the back of the head. "I'm going to go prematurely white!""Your hair has always been almost white anyway, Draco," said Harry. "Besides, you got your wish... he's a Slytherin.""Naturally," said Draco, "he's a Black."Teddy wisely stayed quiet, his eyes rolling at his parents' comments. He grumbled a bit and then smiled as Luciano and Noah arrived with Charlene and a sullen looking Ethan."Ethan!" he cried, slipping in to punch his friend lightly on the arm. They slipped quietly away to make their mischief while the adults congregated. Charlene joined Ron's trio of joyful children, along with the white blonde Errakis and Fred, and shortly the whole group was covered in bursts of playful color."It'll take me forever to get that out of her clothes, you know," said Luciano to Hermione.She shook her head, "Don't think I don't know you press your poor house elves into doing it.""They aren't ours," said Luciano. "They belong to Hogwarts.""Well, if it makes you feel better, I just use an industrial strength *Scourgify*," said Hermione.Ron and Seamus could be seen walking up the path from the grove then."They went to see Sean?" asked Harry weakly.Hermione nodded. "And Molly. They buried her next to him."Harry watched his friend walking up the path. "Seamus still hasn't recovered, has he?""I don't know that either of them will, dear," said Molly, bouncing the fussing toddler in her arms. "It was a bitter blow for both of them. It always is. They... they're rather formidable boys to keep trying as they do.""I sometimes wonder how they do it," said Harry softly. "I mean," he glanced at Draco. "We try, we do. But..."Noah rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Most wizards only get one chance at a child, Harry. You know I was... I was blessed to have the chance to have Charlene.""You and Luciano?""We keep trying too," said Noah. "I love Charlene, but I would. We would have liked to give her a brother.""It's not too late," said Molly. "Wizards live a long time. You may have more children in your futures yet.""Well. None of us are likely to have as many as those two," said Dean, smiling down at Seamus and Ron. "Five boys.""Neville still has them beat," smiled Luciano."Yes, but Neville lets Viktor do that thing when they're..." said Noah."Children present!" shrieked Molly."Ahem. Yes, quite," said Luciano. "You know, if you really want a big family, I could do that thing...""when I'm in heat..." Noah's breathing got heavy and he was promptly doused, soundly, with a bucket of water.Molly stared fiercely at them, her wand drawn, Kieron, the only dark haired Weasley, still bouncing in her arms. "I said, children present!""It'll be six," whispered Dean to them. "Seamus is at three months.""Seven," said Harry jovially.They stared at him. "It's not twins?" asked Draco incredulously."Merlin, I hope not!" said Harry.Hermione smiled. "No, Harry's right. Ron's at three months too.""They're carrying together?" asked Molly. "They. They hadn't told me."Arthur shook his head. "Poor Winky. She'll go mad!"They all looked at the two young wizards, still holding each other as they walked the path towards the ramshackle structure, and they smiled.
|
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.