[FIC] He goes knocking at night. (Kingsley/Minerva)
Title: He goes knocking at night.
Author:
digthewriter
Pairing: Minerva/Kingsley (Blink and you'll miss it: McGonagall/Hooch)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count/Art Medium: 780
Summary: She hasn't been spotted around town for months, not since the last time she was over at the tenth anniversary memorial for Dumbledore's death. Kingsley's one of her only human connections to the wizarding world.
Notes: Unbetaed. Written for
rarepair_shorts summer wishlist event 2021. Recipient: kellychambliss. Also written for Jae's Monthly Drabble Challenge No. 184 for
enchanted_jae.
Kingsley doesn't think about anything more than simply knocking on the door and being let in. They have plans for tea tonight. Sometimes, it's more than tea and biscuits, but sometimes, it's just tea and companionship. He doesn't mind though, because he knows when he's needed, Minerva will ask for more.
It's been a while since she was the Headmistress and now lives a quiet life, away from crowds of the wizarding world but still in it somehow. She hasn't been spotted around town for months, not since the last time she was over at the tenth anniversary memorial for Dumbledore's death. They had tried to take her pictures for the Prophet but Minerva had been quick to dodge the cameras. In the flash, it's more evident.
They're sat at the table, next to each other. It's how he likes it and he's still always surprised she allows him to be so close and yet they don't touch.
"How was your evening?" she asks quietly, taking a sip of the red liquid from her wine goblet while he sips on the lavender tea because she likes the smell of it. Especially when it's on his breath. He watches as his fingers wrap around the stem of the glass and his breath hitches when she takes another gulp. He's jealous.
"Not terrible," he replies. "Hooch says hello."
He can feel her stiffen more than see it but he doesn't add more.
"That's kind of her."
"She would like to see you."
"I'm afraid..." she drawls, looking for the words, or maybe they are there but she just doesn't want to whisper them. "Perhaps a conversation for another time."
He nods. He doesn't bring up her friends often because he doesn't know how to. If it were someone he wasn't afraid of, he'd try to knock some sense into them, but he isn't exactly afraid of Minerva... Perhaps he's afraid of losing her.
"I could stay the evening," he offers instead.
"Don't you have work in the morning?"
He nods once and drinks his tea. "It can be rearranged."
"You're certain?" she asks, and a smile creeps up. She wants him there. Whatever was in the wine goblet wasn't enough. Not tonight.
*
He's pushed back in his chair, his hands resting on her waist, and her teeth sunk down on his neck. It's his moans which do her in, he knows, but she won't ever admit it. He's learnt to read her body, the small cues indicating what she adores and what she so lustfully enjoys. He's never been the type to let anyone else lead but with Minerva, it's always been different.
She rocks back and forth, her long hair flowy and down his chest-it's become darker over the years but he suspects Minerva still magics in some greys as a reminder of who she used to be. Kingsley always has to stop himself from wrapping the strands around his fingers and pulling on it. He's had the desires to do it but rarely gives into them. It's not his place to inflict the pain. He rather enjoys being at the receiving end of it.
Panting against her skin, her dress half ripped, and his shirt somewhere on the floor, he wonders if she'll guide them to the bedroom or if she'll allow him to carry her. It's nearly dawn, so they'll both be able to get a few hours of sleep.
When they kiss, naked and under the silk sheets on her bed, he doesn't taste anything different.
"That was my blood in the wine glass?" he asks, slightly surprised.
She smiles and curls into him.
"I have a bit left over...I'm aware of your discomfort with..." She doesn't finish the sentence. They know.
"That's why you agreed for me to stay. You'd already had a taste of me," he says without necessarily meaning the smirk in his voice but it's there nonetheless.
"It's difficult for me to deny your wishes if you're already here. If I've already had my taste."
She closes her eyes and her head rests against his chest. It's her way of telling him to shut up.
There are many evenings when Kingsley wants to tell her to give him the bite. The bite to turn him, to make his hers forever. But he also knows once he's turned, she won't be able to feed on him and she, or they would need another. He takes in a deep breath, mumbles a spell to close all the doors and windows for utter darkness, and closes his eyes.
Perhaps one day. Perhaps one day when Minerva will agree to hear what Hooch has to offer. This entry was originally posted at https://digthewriter.dreamwidth.org/843374.html. Thanks for reading
Author:
digthewriter
Pairing: Minerva/Kingsley (Blink and you'll miss it: McGonagall/Hooch)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count/Art Medium: 780
Summary: She hasn't been spotted around town for months, not since the last time she was over at the tenth anniversary memorial for Dumbledore's death. Kingsley's one of her only human connections to the wizarding world.
Notes: Unbetaed. Written for
rarepair_shorts summer wishlist event 2021. Recipient: kellychambliss. Also written for Jae's Monthly Drabble Challenge No. 184 for
enchanted_jae.
Kingsley doesn't think about anything more than simply knocking on the door and being let in. They have plans for tea tonight. Sometimes, it's more than tea and biscuits, but sometimes, it's just tea and companionship. He doesn't mind though, because he knows when he's needed, Minerva will ask for more.
It's been a while since she was the Headmistress and now lives a quiet life, away from crowds of the wizarding world but still in it somehow. She hasn't been spotted around town for months, not since the last time she was over at the tenth anniversary memorial for Dumbledore's death. They had tried to take her pictures for the Prophet but Minerva had been quick to dodge the cameras. In the flash, it's more evident.
They're sat at the table, next to each other. It's how he likes it and he's still always surprised she allows him to be so close and yet they don't touch.
"How was your evening?" she asks quietly, taking a sip of the red liquid from her wine goblet while he sips on the lavender tea because she likes the smell of it. Especially when it's on his breath. He watches as his fingers wrap around the stem of the glass and his breath hitches when she takes another gulp. He's jealous.
"Not terrible," he replies. "Hooch says hello."
He can feel her stiffen more than see it but he doesn't add more.
"That's kind of her."
"She would like to see you."
"I'm afraid..." she drawls, looking for the words, or maybe they are there but she just doesn't want to whisper them. "Perhaps a conversation for another time."
He nods. He doesn't bring up her friends often because he doesn't know how to. If it were someone he wasn't afraid of, he'd try to knock some sense into them, but he isn't exactly afraid of Minerva... Perhaps he's afraid of losing her.
"I could stay the evening," he offers instead.
"Don't you have work in the morning?"
He nods once and drinks his tea. "It can be rearranged."
"You're certain?" she asks, and a smile creeps up. She wants him there. Whatever was in the wine goblet wasn't enough. Not tonight.
*
He's pushed back in his chair, his hands resting on her waist, and her teeth sunk down on his neck. It's his moans which do her in, he knows, but she won't ever admit it. He's learnt to read her body, the small cues indicating what she adores and what she so lustfully enjoys. He's never been the type to let anyone else lead but with Minerva, it's always been different.
She rocks back and forth, her long hair flowy and down his chest-it's become darker over the years but he suspects Minerva still magics in some greys as a reminder of who she used to be. Kingsley always has to stop himself from wrapping the strands around his fingers and pulling on it. He's had the desires to do it but rarely gives into them. It's not his place to inflict the pain. He rather enjoys being at the receiving end of it.
Panting against her skin, her dress half ripped, and his shirt somewhere on the floor, he wonders if she'll guide them to the bedroom or if she'll allow him to carry her. It's nearly dawn, so they'll both be able to get a few hours of sleep.
When they kiss, naked and under the silk sheets on her bed, he doesn't taste anything different.
"That was my blood in the wine glass?" he asks, slightly surprised.
She smiles and curls into him.
"I have a bit left over...I'm aware of your discomfort with..." She doesn't finish the sentence. They know.
"That's why you agreed for me to stay. You'd already had a taste of me," he says without necessarily meaning the smirk in his voice but it's there nonetheless.
"It's difficult for me to deny your wishes if you're already here. If I've already had my taste."
She closes her eyes and her head rests against his chest. It's her way of telling him to shut up.
There are many evenings when Kingsley wants to tell her to give him the bite. The bite to turn him, to make his hers forever. But he also knows once he's turned, she won't be able to feed on him and she, or they would need another. He takes in a deep breath, mumbles a spell to close all the doors and windows for utter darkness, and closes his eyes.
Perhaps one day. Perhaps one day when Minerva will agree to hear what Hooch has to offer. This entry was originally posted at https://digthewriter.dreamwidth.org/843374.html. Thanks for reading