(no subject)
rating: pg-13?
word count: 475
summary: the joys of public transportation
a/n: title from "ghost of corporate future" by regina spektor. i think the song is very fitting for this.
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]
Everything seems bleached out. The unhappy passengers on the underground are blinking at each other, visibly disgusted at their surroundings and themselves. There are peeling ads stuck to the sides of the car and everything feels surreal.
Remus hopes to never ever become old. Old is such an ugly word. Sirius brings it into the conversation to guilt trip Remus into doing what he wants. 'Oh grandpa, would you like me to help you across the street?' Sometimes he'll add that Remus is a girl, 'You guys, Remus doesn't want to because hes scared he'll stub his vagina.'
Apparently cautious is to girlie for Sirius and his fucked up analogies. He smiles a little.
“What're you smiling at, you loon?”
Remus grins wider at him, blinking innocently, “Oh, nothing.”
The doors open and a group of teenagers enter. Hoodlums! the old man in Remus' soul says. They are dressed in odd costumes of mismatched bright colors and big boots and piercings in all sorts of unfortunate places. Hooligans!
The train jostles and Remus is suddenly pushed into Sirius, frequent riders of the train don't seem too effected. Remus doesn't step back. So close together they can smell the alcohol on each other. He feels drunker on Sirius and proving that he isn't old or in possession of breasts.
“In a public forum, Moony?” he asks surprised as Remus gropes Sirius through his trousers. Sirius gasps.
“I don't think,” Remus reasons, “that anyone will see us.” The gray clad businessmen and bratty children on holidays are all pushed together, its a weird sort of motley where each group looks mortified to breathe the same air as the other.
He wonders which group he and Sirius would belong to, Remus feels he is more inclined to stuffy businessmen whereas Sirius is naturally bratty and youthful. He pushes their bodies together and Sirius hisses. He thanks the sadist who created rush hour, if only for the reasons that all the cramped bodies create a sort of camouflage.
Sirius comes with Remus' name on his lips, and Remus looks over at the miserable old men and women with their briefcases and indifferent faces and thinks he could never be that way with Sirius around.
word count: 475
summary: the joys of public transportation
a/n: title from "ghost of corporate future" by regina spektor. i think the song is very fitting for this.
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]
Everything seems bleached out. The unhappy passengers on the underground are blinking at each other, visibly disgusted at their surroundings and themselves. There are peeling ads stuck to the sides of the car and everything feels surreal.
Remus hopes to never ever become old. Old is such an ugly word. Sirius brings it into the conversation to guilt trip Remus into doing what he wants. 'Oh grandpa, would you like me to help you across the street?' Sometimes he'll add that Remus is a girl, 'You guys, Remus doesn't want to because hes scared he'll stub his vagina.'
Apparently cautious is to girlie for Sirius and his fucked up analogies. He smiles a little.
“What're you smiling at, you loon?”
Remus grins wider at him, blinking innocently, “Oh, nothing.”
The doors open and a group of teenagers enter. Hoodlums! the old man in Remus' soul says. They are dressed in odd costumes of mismatched bright colors and big boots and piercings in all sorts of unfortunate places. Hooligans!
The train jostles and Remus is suddenly pushed into Sirius, frequent riders of the train don't seem too effected. Remus doesn't step back. So close together they can smell the alcohol on each other. He feels drunker on Sirius and proving that he isn't old or in possession of breasts.
“In a public forum, Moony?” he asks surprised as Remus gropes Sirius through his trousers. Sirius gasps.
“I don't think,” Remus reasons, “that anyone will see us.” The gray clad businessmen and bratty children on holidays are all pushed together, its a weird sort of motley where each group looks mortified to breathe the same air as the other.
He wonders which group he and Sirius would belong to, Remus feels he is more inclined to stuffy businessmen whereas Sirius is naturally bratty and youthful. He pushes their bodies together and Sirius hisses. He thanks the sadist who created rush hour, if only for the reasons that all the cramped bodies create a sort of camouflage.
Sirius comes with Remus' name on his lips, and Remus looks over at the miserable old men and women with their briefcases and indifferent faces and thinks he could never be that way with Sirius around.