(Untitled)

[homely_illiad]

WHEN: Week 05, 'Riddles in the Light' / Sunday January 8, 2008 / 6: 35 PM
WHERE: Quidditch Pitch
WHO: Slytherin Quidditch Team

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[perfect_paris]

Paris tapped his foot impatiently against the ground, glancing from side to side swiftly. He looked mildly pissed off, but on the inside, his temper was raging like an angry bull. As captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, he took practice extremely seriously: that, and winning. Paris hated to lose, especially to that wimpy Ravenclaw Quidditch team. They were a joke, honestly.

... But at this rate, they were going to lose! Where in the hell was his team

[homely_illiad]

"Ten minutes," Illiad repeated, maybe a little stupidly. He gazed back into Paris' eyes, gaping a little.

That wasn't the answer he had expected. Normally, when he bitched, he got bitched right back. 'Shut up, Illiad, learn some patience-- it's a virtue!' 'Grow up Illiad, they're probably busy-- they'll be here soon!' 'Not everyone's as perfect as you, Illiad!'And yet Paris had not bitched at Illiad, but right alongside of him

[perfect_paris]

Oh yes, Paris was a master of bitching. He could go on for hours about how inadequate the rest of the team was, but he would still torture them into playing a kickass game. Yet even then, after the team played a wonderful game, they were still inadequate. Nothing was ever good enough for Paris.

To him, there were two people on the planet who were just about flawless: Illiad Hawkins and himself.

The world would be a better place without the rest of the human population. Especially his idiotic father. Paris grimaced at the mention of that man. Shifting his gaze into the distance, he heaved a gentle sigh.

"No, he hasn't written to me since that last missive," he said in a stony voice. "I don't know if he plans to. I haven't heard from my mother, either. Though, she wasn't as vehemently against my choice as much as my father was..."

Paris paused for a moment before hugging an arm around Illiad's small body. "And you? I pray you haven't heard anything terrible from your family..."

[homely_illiad]

Illiad scooted even closer when Paris pulled him thus.

"According to my mother, they are treating the incident as if I had died," Illiad said, perhaps a little too distant and a little too cold. He made a small noise, sort of like a 'hmpf'. "That is, to say, my father is ignoring that it even happened, but my siblings know not to talk about me in front of him, and Apollo continues to explode or implode, depending on how he's feeling," he added, raising a wry eyebrow.

"The rest of the family I don't know anything about, but they never liked me anyway. What is this going to do to my relationship with them that hasn't already been broken?" he asked, sighing.

But he had liked Paris' word choice there-- his choice. Did that mean...?

"What are you doing next year? After you're out of school?" he asked the older boy, looking up at him suddenly, with wide, questioning eyes.

[perfect_paris]

Paris frowned at Illiad's words. As if he had died. God, that had to be bad. And to think that all of this was his fault... But alas, there wasn't anything to be done about the past. He stroked Illiad's hair lovingly

[homely_illiad]

Illiad's eyes glowed. They seemed to dilate with anger, or fear, or something.

"Paris!" He said, angrily. "Paris, don't... don't joke, alright?!" he asked, in a manner that seemed to say that he didn't think Paris was joking in the least bit. He was scowling and he had even pushed the other away, shoving him angrily. And although Illiad often looked small and fragile, he had some fight to him. You had to, when you had brothers like Apollo.

"Italy is too far away from me!" he said, in a low growl, his grey eyes blazing like a cat out of hell. "You know that! Don't leave me so soon! I will come to Italy, but I'm not dropping out of school...I have to finish, Paris, it's very important to me, you know!" he growled, glowering.

Although now that he thought about it, there was really not much either of them could do to avoid it-- this separation next year! He sighed and looked away, looking pale from his ennui.

[perfect_paris]

Paris silently cursed whoever was watching Earth from above, detesting the fact that Illiad was a year beneath him. If only they were in the same school year, they wouldn't have this dilemma... He winced as Illiad shoved him away.

"I'm not joking, Illiad," he said in a low voice, brushing his lapels off. "Italy is my home, I will say that."

He raised an eyebrow as Illiad went on. Of course Paris didn't want to drag him out of school just for the sake of keeping him company in Italy. Sure, Paris was selfish, but certainly not in a situation like this. He'd always wished the best for his pretty, young lover.

"I don't want to leave you behind," he continued, "and I wouldn't be able to survive very long without you. But where would I go, Illiad? Would I settle down in London and wait a whole year for you there?"

He sounded a bit too angry for his liking, so he tried again, this time taking it slower. He sighed before speaking.

"What would you have me do?" Paris asked, tilting his head as he spoke.

[homely_illiad]

"Not London," Illiad said, scowling.

"Hogsmeade."

The word slipped out of his lips like a deadly hiss, as if it were poison instead of the name of a town.

"Move to Hogsmeade, Paris. Get a job there, or something. Just for the year, so I can be near to you," he said, his eyes gazing furiously back into his lover's. They weren't demanding. They were pleading.

"I'll write you every morning; I'll sneak out every night; I don't care. But Italy is too far, Paris, London is too far!"

[perfect_paris]

Paris smirked at this and chuckled, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. It was nice to feel so loved-- but not loved as much as the feeling of being needed. Paris hadn't felt that in a very, very long time. For awhile he thought that he was simply extremely easy to abandon... But Illiad proved that wrong. Illiad needed him.

...So I can be near to you... Italy is too far, Paris, London is too far!

Paris' face softened into a small, but honest smile and he traced his finger down Illiad's cheek. "Hogsmeade... For one year? That is definitely plausible, Illiad."

Getting a job, though... That would be difficult. Not getting the job, that was easy enough, but working with people directly was never Paris' forte. He hated people passionately, and usually this was rather obvious in his dialogue. But he would certainly try; if trying meant being close to Illiad, then he would try for as long as he had to

[homely_illiad]

Illiad made soft moan into the kiss

[perfect_paris]

Paris threw his arms around Illiad and pulled him close, rubbing their foreheads together affectionately. Illiad was right-- this would definitely be alright. It was a strange thing; Paris had never experience this type of love before. For years, it had been a long train of short, physical relationships. Never before had Paris given his heart up completely to someone else. Sometimes it felt like the two of them had been dating for far longer than half a year-- Paris connected so well with Illiad!

Laughing, he moved in closer, relishing in the feeling of Illiad's warm breath on his face.

"It'll be alright, Illiad. I promise," Paris murmured gently into Illiad's ear. "We'll make it work."

He paused and looked directly into the piercing, grey eyes beneath him. Paris found such love and comfort there, that he couldn't help but smile. Grabbing Illiad's chin, he kissed him swiftly on the lips.

"I love you, Illiad Hawkins. The words don't do you justice, but just know that I do. I love you."

Another kiss. This time on the cheek.

[lovely_byrd]

"Ee!"

Okay, so he couldn't help making the noise!

It was time for Quidditch practice, except that Hisoka had spent most of his day hanging out with Chen and working on that Transfiguration project-- and he'd most regrettably forgotten. It didn't help, either, that mysterious note that he'd received! He was just so... pre-occupied!

Not to mention he'd been watching his feet most of the way down here, thinking about the shoes he was wearing. He rather liked these shoes. He wondered if Chen did-- holy shit!

"I'm s-s-sorry!" he stammered, throwing up his hands and ungracefully dropping his broom.

The entire world knew that Paris Valmont and Illiad Hawkins were dating, so that wasn't weird. But he hadn't expected them to be, er....

[perfect_paris]

Oh, God. Right when Paris was tempted to shove Illiad to the ground and shag him right then and there... Did this Byrd kid always show up at the wrong times? For everything? Rolling his eyes dully, Paris directed a poisonous glare towards the younger boy. Scarily enough, the glare didn't remain for long. After a moment, it turned into a poisonous smirk, and he tilted his head as he began to speak.

"Funny you should show up now, Byrd," he spat venomously. "Considering the practice started, oh, fifteen minutes ago. Glad you could make it."

He whipped around and brushed some of Illiad's hair behind his ear. "We'll have to continue at a later date, love, when there aren't any distractions running about."

Paris spat the word 'distractions', saying it loud enough for Hisoka to hear. Ugh! He was so pissed, honestly!

"Pick up your broom, Byrd," he snapped, looking directly at Hisoka's fallen broom. "Now that you're here, we can get some practice in. Hm?"

The humorless smirk had already disappeared from his face.

[lovely_byrd]

Hisoka... stared.

The instant Paris made a move to allow his eyes to wander away from Illiad's, however, he dropped them to the ground with another small squeak, shutting tight his eyes.

"Sorry!" he said, in a small little bark. "I did not mean to be not here!" he said, scrambling to pick up his broom.

Illiad watched him with a sneer on his lips. Oh, that was his Paris alright, torturing the underclassmen! It was making Illiad a little excited. He picked his own broom up off the ground and got ready to get on it.

"We're still missing the rest of these dumbasses," he said, with emphasis on the word, and a pointed stare at Hisoka, who blushed crimson and actually fell over.

"Paris, just call it off. It's not worth it. We can reconvene tomorrow."

[perfect_paris]

Paris scoffed at Hisoka's clumsiness. Honestly, who was this kid? Albeit, he was a great Quidditch player (when he wasn't LATE to practices), and Paris was glad to have him on the team... But the kid was a bloody disaster

[lovely_byrd]

Well.

They must've been spending too much time together, for that was a bitch-fit worthy of only Illiad Hawkins. Who was feeling greatly aroused at this point.

"Takurai? Wait. This one is friends with Takurai? Which one?" Illiad asked, homing in now that the discussion had been brought up. Well, it made sense! Unless it was the oaf Takurai who spent way too much time sniffing Bacchus' asshole to be put to any good.

Hisoka jilted as he was yelled at, dropping his broom yet again. He scrambled for it, catching the wooden handle before it hit the ground.

"Chen-sempai!" he squeaked, before he could figure out that this was probably not only a bad idea, but also the WORST IDEA IN THE WORLD.

Illiad laughed.

Oh, how he laughed!