Five Queerditch Pub Fics
The prompt this week was: Sin. Fair warning--the last three stories are a bit on the creepy side.
Title: Thou Shalt Not Covet
Pairing: Viktor/Cedric
Rating: PG
Summary: The words have been dinned into Cedric's ears by his father, words demanding a certain behaviour from him and forbidding everything else.
Stand up straight. Do your homework. Honour thy father and thy mother.
The words have been dinned into Cedric's ears by his father, words demanding a certain behaviour from him and forbidding everything else. Always and always, he's striven to be the perfect one, the model boy that his father could be proud of. It's as if everything he could achieve is a flag that must be captured, not for himself but for the honour of Amos Diggory. Father was never more pleased than when he'd learned that Cedric would be playing the Triwizard Tournament against Harry Potter.
Practice your flying. Second top student in your House is not good enough; you must be first. Try harder, boy, try harder.
And harder is exactly how he is right now, watching Viktor Krum flying at twilight over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Krum scowls and glares at the world; Cedric knows it's the expression of an experienced Seeker, the so-called "Seeker snarl" born of gritted teeth and clenched jaws and straining to see a near-invisible flutter of golden wings. Krum--Viktor--does not look sullen or angry to Cedric; he looks determined, and passionate to win.
Cedric does not know how to tell him that he's already won.
It would scandalise his father, Cedric knows. He's kept dutifully to dating girls, pretty and clever ones, mostly. Cho Chang, for the past year--a sweet, witty girl and a good friend. And they've kissed and caressed and done more than that, because after they got past a certain point, that's what he was expected to do.
Cedric doesn't even know Viktor, except for his name. He's seen him panting after Hermione Granger, though, and a fierce red rage burned clean through him at the thought: Why Hermione? Why her and not me?
Which is silly, because he shouldn't covet and has no business coveting Viktor. He doesn't even know what he wants to do with Viktor, though he knows that he'd like to start with a kiss. Kissing Viktor, smelling of sunlight and grass and salty sweat...no, he'd not mind that at all.
In the back of his mind, he can hear his father scolding him. He can see his father's eyes, disappointed and weary and ashamed, gazing at him with a wounded expression.
It's not fair! he mentally shouts at his father. Why can't I be me? Why do I have to be the you that you wanted to be?
There's no answer. His father's shame and bewilderment are answer enough.
Thou shalt not covet. Thou shalt not.
"But I do," he whispers, as the twilight grows dimmer and Viktor grows more difficult to see. "I do."
***
Title: One Kiss
Pairing: Remus/Peter
Rating: PG
Summary: The look was only there for a minute; Peter masked it quickly. But the emotion--the joy at being loved, the desperate need to be loved--that, Remus knows, has not gone away.
Getting drunk together was a mistake.
Sharing a joint was even more foolish.
Daring each other to do the most ridiculous things--now, that had been positively moronic.
He forgets whose idea it was that he should kiss Peter. James, he thinks. Sirius was too stoned at that point to do much more than laugh.
And kiss Peter he did. Full on the lips, with a bit of tongue.
It should have provoked a "Geroff!" and another dare to James or Remus, this one even more outrageous.
Instead, Peter looked at him. And the look penetrated the alcoholic haze in Remus's head and the ropy, intoxicating smell of pot. It was a look of stunned, incredulous joy. Pure, blinding joy at being loved.
The look was only there for a minute; Peter masked it quickly. But the emotion--the joy at being loved, the desperate need to be loved--that, Remus knows, has not gone away. And going over his memories of things Peter has said at various times, he's retroactively put together a picture of Peter's family...a father long dead, sisters much older than Peter whom he scarcely knows, a mother who pampers her son while striving to exorcise the magic from him. There is no love in Peter's background, and only the careless schoolboy love of his friends in the present.
Remus knows now that the need to be loved is like a gaping wound in Peter...and he doesn't know what to do. He can't love Peter that much; there are times he's not even sure if he likes the boy. Granted, he also feels that way about James and Sirius at times, but Peter wouldn't understand that.
He gives Peter what he can--a few stolen kisses, a hug now and then. It's little enough--mere scraps--but Peter feasts on them as if they were banquets. Remus tries not to wince, knowing this, knowing how much Peter is building on what is not there.
Someday, the house of cards Remus's false affection has constructed will collapse. It's inevitable. This will all end in wreckage.
All Remus can do, he thinks, is forestall destruction for a while.
One kiss. It was only one kiss.
***
Title: Living in Sin
Author: gehayi
Pairing: Pansy/Lucius
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sin should have a wildness to it, an abandonment, a sense of having shattered all the rules. There should be passion. There should be pleasure. This is more of a duty.
Living in sin, that's what her mother's soppy romance novels would call this.
She thinks that's an exaggeration. Sin should have a wildness to it, an abandonment, a sense of having shattered all the rules. There should be passion. There should be pleasure.
This is more of a duty.
It seems to her as if Lucius is determined to shock her with his debauchery. She suspects, though she can't prove, that this is why Lucius fucked her with his fingers and tongue and cock in front of Draco on her wedding night. She suspects that he then fucked Draco in front of her to show her how completely owned they both are.
They've had sex in ways she couldn't have imagined once. Polyjuice seems to be one of Lucius's favourite sex toys. He's fucked her when she was Polyjuiced into Draco, Snape, any variety of Weasley males, Sirius Black, even that miserable Potter boy. She's fucked and been fucked by Lucius when she was Polyjuiced into Lucius, for Lucius dearly loves making love to himself. In Lucius's form, she's had sex with Draco and with Narcissa. At least, she thinks they were Draco and Narcissa. She's not sure who anyone is anymore, least of all herself.
As Lucius, she took Draco, who was Polyjuiced into her for doing something inappropriate. Funny how they both compete for that potion now, to be Polyjuiced into a male. Anything with a cock is a sign of Lucius's favour.
She hates the nights when she has to remain herself. It's like getting reamed out with a mushy broomstick when Lucius is angry or indifferent, and there's nothing to do but wait for it all to be over.
She hates being part of his harem, and she hates the fact that living in sin seems to bring him so much pleasure and her so little. She hates being a spittoon for his sperm, and she hates being used as if she were no more than one of the inflatable dolls sold in Muggle sex shops.
She hates the way her memories have blurred and faded till there's almost nothing left. She hates Lucius's spells and potions, which compel her to respond passionately whether she will or no. She hates being a thing.
But most of all, she hates the fact that she no longer remembers her real name.
***
Title: The Pride of Your Power
Author: gehayi
Pairing: Lucius/James
Rating: PG
Summary: "Well, my little hero," said Lucius, smiling, "It seems you're going to have to learn to obey your betters."
James never feared Lucius Malfoy, or any Death Eater. Not, that is, until one day when he went for a walk and happened upon a raid.
It was all over but for the tears. The corpses lay strewn about the smouldering ruins like so many broken dolls. The Morsmordre burned its sickly radioactive green in the night sky. And there was Lucius Malfoy, surveying his handiwork and looking well pleased.
He dashed forward, shouting something about a citizen's arrest.
The Stunning Spell hit him like a blow.
When he awoke, he was...elsewhere. In a very large bed. Naked. And his wand was gone.
"Well, my little hero," said Lucius, smiling, "It seems you're going to have to learn to obey your betters."
He screamed defiance. He would never do what Lucius wanted, never never NEVER...
And then Lucius said something, and suddenly his mind was suffused with a warm pink cloud, and it was so much easier not to think--and then the world became clear, and he knew what he wanted more than anything in the world was Lucius.
He was shameless. Lucius even more so. He did things that would have made a maggot sick, and did them happily, even passionately.
That was not the bad part. The bad part was when the fog went away and he found himself staring at Lucius, repulsed and horrified and wishing he could be violently ill.
Lucius cupped James's chin in his hands "Such a charming boy. So passionate. So imaginative. So talkative."
James was seized with a violent trembling.
"Oh, yes, boy," murmured Lucius. "You talked. You babbled quite prettily about your little group. Now, listen to me. I will let you go. But you will never speak of this to anyone. In the presence of Dumbledore, you will not even think of it. And any time I wish you to babble so again, you will do so. Do you understand?"
James nodded dumbly.
"And one more thing before you go, boy. I own you. You will always desire me. Always. Fucking a male prostitute in Carne Alley or buried in your Mudblood...it doesn't matter. You will hunger and burn for me until the day you die. And you will never be able to speak of that, either.
"Now, go."
A servant was summoned, and he was escorted to a nearby Apparation point. No need to kill or curse me, he thought bitterly. Lucius owns me now. I'll never be free.
And he Apparated away from the house where he'd left the ruins of his shattered pride.
***
Title: Faustian
Author: gehayi
Pairing: Tom/Ginny
Rating: PG
Summary: It started with a touch, and a flight from Neverland. Just a touch, and a lust-greed-anger-impatience to grow up too fast.
It started with a touch, and a flight from Neverland. Just a touch, and a lust-greed-anger-impatience to grow up too fast.
The touch was Ginny's--at first. She lay in her bed in Gryffindor with the curtains drawn and stroked herself, dreaming of Tom, aching for Tom and despairing that she would ever be old enough for someone like him. If there was a word for this, she didn't know it; it was just a way of getting a good feeling before going to sleep.
That was all it was. At first.
As time wore on and the attacks on the Muggleborns grew worse, her misery grew. Oh Tom, she'd think, touching herself, if only you were here. If only you could make it be all right.
Sometimes, after she called his name, she felt that she could feel cool, firm lips brushing against hers. Sometimes, her nipples ached as if someone had pinched or bitten them. Sometimes, she felt the warm, heavy weight of an entire body on top of hers.
Dreams, of course. It had to be dreams.
Then one day, as she lay abed, she called out his name--"Oh, Tom!"--and was not surprised to hear him answer.
"Yes, Ginny?"
She opened her eyes, looked up and saw him. Tall, handsome, darkly smiling. And sixteen. In no way likely to be interested in a little girl.
"You're wrong, Ginny," he said softly. "I am interested. You see, you're absolutely perfect for me."
Perfect. That was a phrase she didn't hear often. She was loved, she knew that, but still...perfect.
She smiled up at him tremulously.
"Would you like me to show you how important you are to me?"
Ginny banished all thought of how angry her parents would be at the very suggestion and nodded emphatically.
"Lie back," he instructed. "And keep your eyes on me."
And then Tom's hands were on her shoulders. For a moment, she thought that what was going to happen was whatever happened in her young adult novels when two young lovers got together…"and then the fire flickered and died." Something wonderful happened when the fire flickered and died, something grownups wanted to pretend didn't occur. She wasn't quite sure what the wonderful thing was, but she was very certain it involved hugging and kissing.
But instead a pain began in her chest, as if something deep in her mind and heart was tearing, and she couldn't even scream, it hurt so badly, and then oh it was as if oh no please part of her had been blown away by a black wind. She tried reaching after it, but it was gone.
Out of some sick despair she couldn't understand, she began to cry.
"It's all right, Ginny," he said gently. "I can fix it, if you want me to."
"Oh, yes!"
And then Tom seemed to dwindle and fade, and then vanish.
"Tom!" she screamed in panic.
I'm here, Ginny, came the answer from what was--what had been--her soul. Which, she slowly realised, Tom had tainted and corrupted, so that he could link with it, and feed off of it.
"Tom..." she whimpered, sickened by the depth of the betrayal.
Why, yes, Ginny, came the amused answer. We are Tom now. You as well as me. You couldn't survive without part of my soul in yours any longer. Part of me will always be with you now, even if this plan fails.
And then an oddly seductive lassitude swept through her, filling her with a dark ecstasy as Tom whispered of his plans, of his need for her, of how this was essential and now they were joined for all eternity...
Do you understand now? came the whisper.
"Yes," Ginny said calmly before smiling her lover's impish smile. "Thank you, Tom."
Title: Thou Shalt Not Covet
Pairing: Viktor/Cedric
Rating: PG
Summary: The words have been dinned into Cedric's ears by his father, words demanding a certain behaviour from him and forbidding everything else.
Stand up straight. Do your homework. Honour thy father and thy mother.
The words have been dinned into Cedric's ears by his father, words demanding a certain behaviour from him and forbidding everything else. Always and always, he's striven to be the perfect one, the model boy that his father could be proud of. It's as if everything he could achieve is a flag that must be captured, not for himself but for the honour of Amos Diggory. Father was never more pleased than when he'd learned that Cedric would be playing the Triwizard Tournament against Harry Potter.
Practice your flying. Second top student in your House is not good enough; you must be first. Try harder, boy, try harder.
And harder is exactly how he is right now, watching Viktor Krum flying at twilight over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Krum scowls and glares at the world; Cedric knows it's the expression of an experienced Seeker, the so-called "Seeker snarl" born of gritted teeth and clenched jaws and straining to see a near-invisible flutter of golden wings. Krum--Viktor--does not look sullen or angry to Cedric; he looks determined, and passionate to win.
Cedric does not know how to tell him that he's already won.
It would scandalise his father, Cedric knows. He's kept dutifully to dating girls, pretty and clever ones, mostly. Cho Chang, for the past year--a sweet, witty girl and a good friend. And they've kissed and caressed and done more than that, because after they got past a certain point, that's what he was expected to do.
Cedric doesn't even know Viktor, except for his name. He's seen him panting after Hermione Granger, though, and a fierce red rage burned clean through him at the thought: Why Hermione? Why her and not me?
Which is silly, because he shouldn't covet and has no business coveting Viktor. He doesn't even know what he wants to do with Viktor, though he knows that he'd like to start with a kiss. Kissing Viktor, smelling of sunlight and grass and salty sweat...no, he'd not mind that at all.
In the back of his mind, he can hear his father scolding him. He can see his father's eyes, disappointed and weary and ashamed, gazing at him with a wounded expression.
It's not fair! he mentally shouts at his father. Why can't I be me? Why do I have to be the you that you wanted to be?
There's no answer. His father's shame and bewilderment are answer enough.
Thou shalt not covet. Thou shalt not.
"But I do," he whispers, as the twilight grows dimmer and Viktor grows more difficult to see. "I do."
***
Title: One Kiss
Pairing: Remus/Peter
Rating: PG
Summary: The look was only there for a minute; Peter masked it quickly. But the emotion--the joy at being loved, the desperate need to be loved--that, Remus knows, has not gone away.
Getting drunk together was a mistake.
Sharing a joint was even more foolish.
Daring each other to do the most ridiculous things--now, that had been positively moronic.
He forgets whose idea it was that he should kiss Peter. James, he thinks. Sirius was too stoned at that point to do much more than laugh.
And kiss Peter he did. Full on the lips, with a bit of tongue.
It should have provoked a "Geroff!" and another dare to James or Remus, this one even more outrageous.
Instead, Peter looked at him. And the look penetrated the alcoholic haze in Remus's head and the ropy, intoxicating smell of pot. It was a look of stunned, incredulous joy. Pure, blinding joy at being loved.
The look was only there for a minute; Peter masked it quickly. But the emotion--the joy at being loved, the desperate need to be loved--that, Remus knows, has not gone away. And going over his memories of things Peter has said at various times, he's retroactively put together a picture of Peter's family...a father long dead, sisters much older than Peter whom he scarcely knows, a mother who pampers her son while striving to exorcise the magic from him. There is no love in Peter's background, and only the careless schoolboy love of his friends in the present.
Remus knows now that the need to be loved is like a gaping wound in Peter...and he doesn't know what to do. He can't love Peter that much; there are times he's not even sure if he likes the boy. Granted, he also feels that way about James and Sirius at times, but Peter wouldn't understand that.
He gives Peter what he can--a few stolen kisses, a hug now and then. It's little enough--mere scraps--but Peter feasts on them as if they were banquets. Remus tries not to wince, knowing this, knowing how much Peter is building on what is not there.
Someday, the house of cards Remus's false affection has constructed will collapse. It's inevitable. This will all end in wreckage.
All Remus can do, he thinks, is forestall destruction for a while.
One kiss. It was only one kiss.
***
Title: Living in Sin
Author: gehayi
Pairing: Pansy/Lucius
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sin should have a wildness to it, an abandonment, a sense of having shattered all the rules. There should be passion. There should be pleasure. This is more of a duty.
Living in sin, that's what her mother's soppy romance novels would call this.
She thinks that's an exaggeration. Sin should have a wildness to it, an abandonment, a sense of having shattered all the rules. There should be passion. There should be pleasure.
This is more of a duty.
It seems to her as if Lucius is determined to shock her with his debauchery. She suspects, though she can't prove, that this is why Lucius fucked her with his fingers and tongue and cock in front of Draco on her wedding night. She suspects that he then fucked Draco in front of her to show her how completely owned they both are.
They've had sex in ways she couldn't have imagined once. Polyjuice seems to be one of Lucius's favourite sex toys. He's fucked her when she was Polyjuiced into Draco, Snape, any variety of Weasley males, Sirius Black, even that miserable Potter boy. She's fucked and been fucked by Lucius when she was Polyjuiced into Lucius, for Lucius dearly loves making love to himself. In Lucius's form, she's had sex with Draco and with Narcissa. At least, she thinks they were Draco and Narcissa. She's not sure who anyone is anymore, least of all herself.
As Lucius, she took Draco, who was Polyjuiced into her for doing something inappropriate. Funny how they both compete for that potion now, to be Polyjuiced into a male. Anything with a cock is a sign of Lucius's favour.
She hates the nights when she has to remain herself. It's like getting reamed out with a mushy broomstick when Lucius is angry or indifferent, and there's nothing to do but wait for it all to be over.
She hates being part of his harem, and she hates the fact that living in sin seems to bring him so much pleasure and her so little. She hates being a spittoon for his sperm, and she hates being used as if she were no more than one of the inflatable dolls sold in Muggle sex shops.
She hates the way her memories have blurred and faded till there's almost nothing left. She hates Lucius's spells and potions, which compel her to respond passionately whether she will or no. She hates being a thing.
But most of all, she hates the fact that she no longer remembers her real name.
***
Title: The Pride of Your Power
Author: gehayi
Pairing: Lucius/James
Rating: PG
Summary: "Well, my little hero," said Lucius, smiling, "It seems you're going to have to learn to obey your betters."
James never feared Lucius Malfoy, or any Death Eater. Not, that is, until one day when he went for a walk and happened upon a raid.
It was all over but for the tears. The corpses lay strewn about the smouldering ruins like so many broken dolls. The Morsmordre burned its sickly radioactive green in the night sky. And there was Lucius Malfoy, surveying his handiwork and looking well pleased.
He dashed forward, shouting something about a citizen's arrest.
The Stunning Spell hit him like a blow.
When he awoke, he was...elsewhere. In a very large bed. Naked. And his wand was gone.
"Well, my little hero," said Lucius, smiling, "It seems you're going to have to learn to obey your betters."
He screamed defiance. He would never do what Lucius wanted, never never NEVER...
And then Lucius said something, and suddenly his mind was suffused with a warm pink cloud, and it was so much easier not to think--and then the world became clear, and he knew what he wanted more than anything in the world was Lucius.
He was shameless. Lucius even more so. He did things that would have made a maggot sick, and did them happily, even passionately.
That was not the bad part. The bad part was when the fog went away and he found himself staring at Lucius, repulsed and horrified and wishing he could be violently ill.
Lucius cupped James's chin in his hands "Such a charming boy. So passionate. So imaginative. So talkative."
James was seized with a violent trembling.
"Oh, yes, boy," murmured Lucius. "You talked. You babbled quite prettily about your little group. Now, listen to me. I will let you go. But you will never speak of this to anyone. In the presence of Dumbledore, you will not even think of it. And any time I wish you to babble so again, you will do so. Do you understand?"
James nodded dumbly.
"And one more thing before you go, boy. I own you. You will always desire me. Always. Fucking a male prostitute in Carne Alley or buried in your Mudblood...it doesn't matter. You will hunger and burn for me until the day you die. And you will never be able to speak of that, either.
"Now, go."
A servant was summoned, and he was escorted to a nearby Apparation point. No need to kill or curse me, he thought bitterly. Lucius owns me now. I'll never be free.
And he Apparated away from the house where he'd left the ruins of his shattered pride.
***
Title: Faustian
Author: gehayi
Pairing: Tom/Ginny
Rating: PG
Summary: It started with a touch, and a flight from Neverland. Just a touch, and a lust-greed-anger-impatience to grow up too fast.
It started with a touch, and a flight from Neverland. Just a touch, and a lust-greed-anger-impatience to grow up too fast.
The touch was Ginny's--at first. She lay in her bed in Gryffindor with the curtains drawn and stroked herself, dreaming of Tom, aching for Tom and despairing that she would ever be old enough for someone like him. If there was a word for this, she didn't know it; it was just a way of getting a good feeling before going to sleep.
That was all it was. At first.
As time wore on and the attacks on the Muggleborns grew worse, her misery grew. Oh Tom, she'd think, touching herself, if only you were here. If only you could make it be all right.
Sometimes, after she called his name, she felt that she could feel cool, firm lips brushing against hers. Sometimes, her nipples ached as if someone had pinched or bitten them. Sometimes, she felt the warm, heavy weight of an entire body on top of hers.
Dreams, of course. It had to be dreams.
Then one day, as she lay abed, she called out his name--"Oh, Tom!"--and was not surprised to hear him answer.
"Yes, Ginny?"
She opened her eyes, looked up and saw him. Tall, handsome, darkly smiling. And sixteen. In no way likely to be interested in a little girl.
"You're wrong, Ginny," he said softly. "I am interested. You see, you're absolutely perfect for me."
Perfect. That was a phrase she didn't hear often. She was loved, she knew that, but still...perfect.
She smiled up at him tremulously.
"Would you like me to show you how important you are to me?"
Ginny banished all thought of how angry her parents would be at the very suggestion and nodded emphatically.
"Lie back," he instructed. "And keep your eyes on me."
And then Tom's hands were on her shoulders. For a moment, she thought that what was going to happen was whatever happened in her young adult novels when two young lovers got together…"and then the fire flickered and died." Something wonderful happened when the fire flickered and died, something grownups wanted to pretend didn't occur. She wasn't quite sure what the wonderful thing was, but she was very certain it involved hugging and kissing.
But instead a pain began in her chest, as if something deep in her mind and heart was tearing, and she couldn't even scream, it hurt so badly, and then oh it was as if oh no please part of her had been blown away by a black wind. She tried reaching after it, but it was gone.
Out of some sick despair she couldn't understand, she began to cry.
"It's all right, Ginny," he said gently. "I can fix it, if you want me to."
"Oh, yes!"
And then Tom seemed to dwindle and fade, and then vanish.
"Tom!" she screamed in panic.
I'm here, Ginny, came the answer from what was--what had been--her soul. Which, she slowly realised, Tom had tainted and corrupted, so that he could link with it, and feed off of it.
"Tom..." she whimpered, sickened by the depth of the betrayal.
Why, yes, Ginny, came the amused answer. We are Tom now. You as well as me. You couldn't survive without part of my soul in yours any longer. Part of me will always be with you now, even if this plan fails.
And then an oddly seductive lassitude swept through her, filling her with a dark ecstasy as Tom whispered of his plans, of his need for her, of how this was essential and now they were joined for all eternity...
Do you understand now? came the whisper.
"Yes," Ginny said calmly before smiling her lover's impish smile. "Thank you, Tom."