Speed
Title: Speed
Time: 27 (holy shit, ~1000 words, all dialogue *rubs shoulders*)
Pairing: Bill and Draco, which means I'm X-posting to the_pimp_cane for Rare Pairs.
Challenge #6, for the challenge 25 catch-up.
Two characters unexpectedly discover feelings for one another over a card game - any card game, be it Muggle or magical. (no other restrictions!)
“You can’t keep me here!”
“That’s true. You can walk right on out.”
“Where would I go? I don’t even know where this is.”
“That is a problem.”
“Do you have to be so bloody agreeable?”
“Why? I’d just as soon not fuel your snit.”
“Fucker.”
“I was thinking we could play a game to pass the time.”
“What kind of game.”
“Damn, you are the suspicious one.”
“Sod off. I grew up in a house where suspicion was an excellent survival trait.”
“There is that.”
“You, on the other hand, grew up in a house in which playing nicely with others was probably rewarded.”
“True again. It would have been counterproductive for the parents of seven to encourage in-fighting. Game?”
“You still didn’t say what kind.”
“Muggle. Card game.”
“What kind of fun is that?”
“You won’t know unless you try.”
“You’re ‘handling’ me, aren’t you?”
“Sweetheart, I have twenty years’ experience with snarky boys. It’s not so much that I’m handling you as that I’ve got well-honed reflexes here.”
“Fucker.”
“Aw, now you’re repeating yourself. Come on. Pull up that chair.”
“This chair is atrocious.”
“It is ugly; I’ll give you that. However, it works. You rest your bum on it, and it holds you up off the floor. It isn’t infested, infected, or even particularly dirty. Just ugly. I’m sure it will suffer by comparison to your lovely backside, but give us a sit-down and see if it doesn’t work.”
“F-I’ll stand.”
“Nice catch. Come on. Sit on the floor, then. Or that footstool, if you’d rather, although if you fear for your precious arse on the chair, I can’t see how either of those options are preferable.”
“Why do I need to sit?”
“This game is premised on speed, and if you’re waaaay up there, you will lose.”
“So you play slower.”
“I don’t think so. I played full-out with the twins when they were five. You’re, what, seventeen?”
“Nearly.”
“Aw, unpuff your chest. Detracts from that pretty face.”
“Why do you keep calling me pretty?”
“I’ve never been under the impression you were stupid!”
“Right. I know I’m pretty. I mean, why do you keep commenting on it?”
“Because you carry it right out there in your hands awaiting comment!”
“Do not!”
“All right. Perhaps I’m mistaken. Ah, see? It holds you up perfectly well.”
“Fu-Damn it. Explain your sodding game.”
“Lovely. All right. I deal you and I each a hand.”
“You and me. You wouldn’t say ‘I deal I a hand.’ Myself would be better, actually.”
“Snot.”
“Commoner.”
“Moving on. Then I make two piles here between us. Okay. Draw four from your pile and keep them in your hand where I can’t see. Okay? Now. When I say go, we’ll each turn over the top card on the stack on our right.”
“Fine.”
“And then we want to lay down cards on top of adjacent numbers.”
“What?”
“For instance, if one of the cards turned is a two, I can lay down a three or an ace. And if I lay down a three, I can then lay down a two or a four. Only one card at a time, and draw from your stack for each you put down. The goal is to run out of cards first.”
“All right. Wait.”
“What?”
“On just the card I turn, or on either?”
“Either. It’s a race.”
“What if neither of us can play?”
“We turn another out of the stack on our right. Only if we both can’t.”
“This game is pointless.”
“Yes, but fun.”
“Does it have a name?”
“Speed.”
“How…obvious.”
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Go!”
…
“Hey! I wanted to go there.”
“I was faster.”
“Bugger.”
“You can draw.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Oh, nice.”
“Why are you complimenting me? You’re the other team!”
“Fair play, pretty boy.”
“Damn it, stop saying that.”
“All right, if it distracts you.”
“And don’t wink at me.”
“Whew! I win.”
“Wait, I only have one card left.”
“Good game.”
“You can’t win! I win games.”
“Not every time!”
“Well, except against Potter, but that’s because he’s a sodding superhero.”
“Not hardly. He’s a boy with a hard road and people willing to help him.”
“Well. Play again?”
“I thought it was pointless.”
“And fun?”
“All right, then.”
“Deal, Weasley.”
…
“Hey! Let go of my hand.”
“What? I thought you thought I was pretty.”
“Yes, but you’re hampering my ability to spank you again.”
“You want to spank me?”
“Um. At the game.”
“First, you didn’t spank me. You won by one bloody card.”
“Winner writes the history.”
“ Fucker.”
“Snot.”
“Fine. Second, who says you’d win again?”
“I have five little brothers. I play dirty.”
“What happened to fair play?”
“I was going easy on you, your first time.”
“What if I might like to go…a little rougher?”
“With a Weasley?”
“Well. You do accessorize well.”
“I do.”
“And, you know, I rather like red hair.”
“Liar.”
“All right, I like long red hair on boys wearing dragonhide.”
“Oh? What else about me appeals to you?”
“Your upper lip.”
“Just the upper?”
“The lower is common, but the upper, just here, is quite fine.”
“I see. It suits, then, that I prefer your left eye over your right. Better arch of the brow.”
“I work on that.”
“I imagine.”
“I also rather like this scar.”
“You just found that scar! Oh!”
“Yes, and I rather like it.”
“Mmm. Well I like this stretch of skin just here.”
“You can’t see that stretch of skin.”
“Can if I help you off with that.”
“Oh. Oh. Do that again.”
“I think I shall.”
“Oh. Mmph. Fuck.”
“Not here, sweetheart. Shall we retire to the master chamber?”
“Fuck, no. The master suite is your parents’ room?”
“Right. I mean my room.”
“Right behind you.”
“Oh?”
“We’ll talk.”
“Brilliant.”
Time: 27 (holy shit, ~1000 words, all dialogue *rubs shoulders*)
Pairing: Bill and Draco, which means I'm X-posting to the_pimp_cane for Rare Pairs.
Challenge #6, for the challenge 25 catch-up.
Two characters unexpectedly discover feelings for one another over a card game - any card game, be it Muggle or magical. (no other restrictions!)
“You can’t keep me here!”
“That’s true. You can walk right on out.”
“Where would I go? I don’t even know where this is.”
“That is a problem.”
“Do you have to be so bloody agreeable?”
“Why? I’d just as soon not fuel your snit.”
“Fucker.”
“I was thinking we could play a game to pass the time.”
“What kind of game.”
“Damn, you are the suspicious one.”
“Sod off. I grew up in a house where suspicion was an excellent survival trait.”
“There is that.”
“You, on the other hand, grew up in a house in which playing nicely with others was probably rewarded.”
“True again. It would have been counterproductive for the parents of seven to encourage in-fighting. Game?”
“You still didn’t say what kind.”
“Muggle. Card game.”
“What kind of fun is that?”
“You won’t know unless you try.”
“You’re ‘handling’ me, aren’t you?”
“Sweetheart, I have twenty years’ experience with snarky boys. It’s not so much that I’m handling you as that I’ve got well-honed reflexes here.”
“Fucker.”
“Aw, now you’re repeating yourself. Come on. Pull up that chair.”
“This chair is atrocious.”
“It is ugly; I’ll give you that. However, it works. You rest your bum on it, and it holds you up off the floor. It isn’t infested, infected, or even particularly dirty. Just ugly. I’m sure it will suffer by comparison to your lovely backside, but give us a sit-down and see if it doesn’t work.”
“F-I’ll stand.”
“Nice catch. Come on. Sit on the floor, then. Or that footstool, if you’d rather, although if you fear for your precious arse on the chair, I can’t see how either of those options are preferable.”
“Why do I need to sit?”
“This game is premised on speed, and if you’re waaaay up there, you will lose.”
“So you play slower.”
“I don’t think so. I played full-out with the twins when they were five. You’re, what, seventeen?”
“Nearly.”
“Aw, unpuff your chest. Detracts from that pretty face.”
“Why do you keep calling me pretty?”
“I’ve never been under the impression you were stupid!”
“Right. I know I’m pretty. I mean, why do you keep commenting on it?”
“Because you carry it right out there in your hands awaiting comment!”
“Do not!”
“All right. Perhaps I’m mistaken. Ah, see? It holds you up perfectly well.”
“Fu-Damn it. Explain your sodding game.”
“Lovely. All right. I deal you and I each a hand.”
“You and me. You wouldn’t say ‘I deal I a hand.’ Myself would be better, actually.”
“Snot.”
“Commoner.”
“Moving on. Then I make two piles here between us. Okay. Draw four from your pile and keep them in your hand where I can’t see. Okay? Now. When I say go, we’ll each turn over the top card on the stack on our right.”
“Fine.”
“And then we want to lay down cards on top of adjacent numbers.”
“What?”
“For instance, if one of the cards turned is a two, I can lay down a three or an ace. And if I lay down a three, I can then lay down a two or a four. Only one card at a time, and draw from your stack for each you put down. The goal is to run out of cards first.”
“All right. Wait.”
“What?”
“On just the card I turn, or on either?”
“Either. It’s a race.”
“What if neither of us can play?”
“We turn another out of the stack on our right. Only if we both can’t.”
“This game is pointless.”
“Yes, but fun.”
“Does it have a name?”
“Speed.”
“How…obvious.”
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Go!”
…
“Hey! I wanted to go there.”
“I was faster.”
“Bugger.”
“You can draw.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Oh, nice.”
“Why are you complimenting me? You’re the other team!”
“Fair play, pretty boy.”
“Damn it, stop saying that.”
“All right, if it distracts you.”
“And don’t wink at me.”
“Whew! I win.”
“Wait, I only have one card left.”
“Good game.”
“You can’t win! I win games.”
“Not every time!”
“Well, except against Potter, but that’s because he’s a sodding superhero.”
“Not hardly. He’s a boy with a hard road and people willing to help him.”
“Well. Play again?”
“I thought it was pointless.”
“And fun?”
“All right, then.”
“Deal, Weasley.”
…
“Hey! Let go of my hand.”
“What? I thought you thought I was pretty.”
“Yes, but you’re hampering my ability to spank you again.”
“You want to spank me?”
“Um. At the game.”
“First, you didn’t spank me. You won by one bloody card.”
“Winner writes the history.”
“ Fucker.”
“Snot.”
“Fine. Second, who says you’d win again?”
“I have five little brothers. I play dirty.”
“What happened to fair play?”
“I was going easy on you, your first time.”
“What if I might like to go…a little rougher?”
“With a Weasley?”
“Well. You do accessorize well.”
“I do.”
“And, you know, I rather like red hair.”
“Liar.”
“All right, I like long red hair on boys wearing dragonhide.”
“Oh? What else about me appeals to you?”
“Your upper lip.”
“Just the upper?”
“The lower is common, but the upper, just here, is quite fine.”
“I see. It suits, then, that I prefer your left eye over your right. Better arch of the brow.”
“I work on that.”
“I imagine.”
“I also rather like this scar.”
“You just found that scar! Oh!”
“Yes, and I rather like it.”
“Mmm. Well I like this stretch of skin just here.”
“You can’t see that stretch of skin.”
“Can if I help you off with that.”
“Oh. Oh. Do that again.”
“I think I shall.”
“Oh. Mmph. Fuck.”
“Not here, sweetheart. Shall we retire to the master chamber?”
“Fuck, no. The master suite is your parents’ room?”
“Right. I mean my room.”
“Right behind you.”
“Oh?”
“We’ll talk.”
“Brilliant.”