My keyboard sounds really... crunchy
Oh my god, there's loads of randoms on my f-list that I don't even know! I'm fine with it, really. Some people have actually friended me back, which is lovely.
I've counted, and appear to have written 37 drabbles for my seven month lj birthday whatever-that-was. Here's all the ones I'm not ashamed of:
James/Sirius, glitter and eyeliner
Eyes rimmed with ashy kohl and Sirius looked like a god; slim, enticing, half-feminine, edible. It was a dirty secret, but James would sit on his knee to line his friend's eyes for him, so he could feel Sirius' narrow hips resting between his knees and Sirius' smooth thighs against his own. Sirius never wore eyeliner to go out mainly because he was never allowed to leave once it was on: James would be kissing him, cupping his face and sucking his lower lip, so hungry, and that would be them for the night. Naked skin, sticky with glitter and lip gloss, shifting together, kohl smudged like bruises. In the morning, James would wash it all off Sirius with soft care, but only so it could be reapplied the following evening.
James/Sirius, nose-biting teacups
James splayed his body back on the bed, laughing horrendously, because how many years had it been since any of them had fallen for such a childish joke as a teacup that bit you. Sirius pouted and whined and was pretty, even with tiny, tiny teeth-marks on the tip of his beautiful nose. James pinched at Sirius' cheek and said 'nosey-wosey' a lot and smooched his lips in to kiss it better, with Sirius wrinkling his nose and twitching away. And it was an accident, more than anything, when they found themselves nuzzled in too close: two pairs of scared eyes and two sets of trembling lips. 'Kiss it better?' James asked, low and serious this time, and Sirius nodded.
Regulus/Sirius, a celebration
Whether it was ego, narcissism, whatever, he didn't know. This would be his last Christmas at Grimmauld Place, and it was marred by Regulus' perfect beauty as they curled together under the sheets to open the presents they'd bought each other. Regulus' breath was chocolate and tangerines and Sirius fumbled at the wrapping paper because he was shaking so much. He could taste Regulus, almost, because they were sharing air in such a confined space and he barely noticed what his present was once Regulus had started to lick chocolate from his fingers again.
Next Christmas he'd be seventeen and somewhere else, with James, who was still male but a lot less tempting. And now, maybe he could make it through, just about. If he could get through his father's speeches and his mother's sniping. Get through Regulus' wine-stained lips and dress-robed beauty. And he'd be okay.
Sirius/Remus/Regulus, candlewax
When the candles had been snuffed, Sirius would put his fingers in them (now he likes to put his fingers in half-bloods, Regulus thinks, and not just his fingers) and he'd get little caps of wax on his fingertips. Sirius would then click them on the table. A spider tapdancing, he'd say, and they'd snigger until their mother shouted.
Regulus contemplates the blood-like circle of wax on his own finger and turns to find his brother and Lupin are staring at him.
'You snuffed the candle,' Sirius says coldly, 'and you aren't even watching,' he adds. Lupin returns his attentions to Sirius' neck and shoulder, kissing hungrily, settled comfortably in Sirius' lap.
Regulus reaches his finger out, strokes it down the hollow of his brother's cheekbone, his sense of touch numbed to a dull pressure.
Sirius' eyes widen. 'You sick little bastard,' he says with a dark chuckle, reaching to drag Regulus in.
Neville/Luna
He knows she goes to the cupboard on the fourth floor a lot; it's full of of stuffed animals and damaged paintings and sculptures and so much dust you could make an army from it. All the mad old junk makes it her sort of place.
They're like opposites, really, except that one thing in common.
She's so matter-of-fact, almost like his grandmother, except that his grandmother never said 'You want to kiss me', or if she did, then she didn't mean with tongues.
So he kissed her (Luna, that is), and she tasted like Butterbeer, which is shockingly, well, normal for her. He wouldn't have expected that, he'd have expected exotic spices or aromatic oils or maybe even something ghastly, but at least it would be ghastly in an interesting way. But Butterbeer, because again she had to surprise him.
He doesn't like surprises, but with Luna it's always a good sort of surprise.
Remus/James
Remus is quiet and unassuming, with gentle, open eyes and a scruffy halo of brown curls to hide him from the world. For all their pranks and plots, and even Prongs, James doesn't really notice Remus until they're sixteen and Sirius is too busy being mad and Peter too busy with his book on Animagi transformations to notice.
When James creeps up behind him, curls a hand around Remus' hip and breathes hot over Remus' skin, Remus trembles a little and grins, that hitched-sideways grin, nipping on his bottom lip until it goes white. James doesn't know what this is, or what it will be, but sometimes they lie together and though they barely even touch except fingers, it's still something, and James likes the sharp little spark of it. But they do watch each other, really watch, and James sometimes dares to brush Remus' hair from his eyes because he wants to see more.
Remus/James, hints at R/S/J
It was naughty, very wrong, and James remembered Sirius' expression last time he'd caught them -- a dark press of jealous frustration -- but then Sirius wasn't here now.
Except that he was. 'Do you shag him in this cupboard?' was the first thing Remus had asked. 'Oh yes,' James had replied, 'yes. Against this very wall,' he added, crushing Remus against it, sucking on Remus' soft, soft lips, pushing his nose into Remus' skin to inhale the heavy scent of him. 'Yes.'
'Don't you--' Remus started, but became distracted by James' purposeful kisses, down Remus' neck and collar, hard bites into Remus' delicate skin. Remus cried out as James' lips were over his nipple. 'Don't touch him again without me watching,' Remus gasped, head thrown back.
'Promise,' James mumbled, lips already following that trail of hair down Remus' belly, pleased because Sirius didn't get to watch this.
Harry/Draco, wrists and fingers
If they hadn't been Seekers then he'd never have noticed, but his father's anger always brought the image immediately to his mind; Harry Potter's pale, long fingers curled around the desperately fluttering Snitch.
And now the Snitch didn't matter. It was Potter's palm curved around the spine of a book, Potter's index finger curling to pluck innocently at his bottom lip, the clench of fist and arch of wrist as Potter stirred a potion.
It was knobbly, chillblained knuckles, the rough skin of a common half-blood that chased Draco's own pure, clean blood downwards. It was sweaty, grubby palms in menacing, sarcastic handshakes that made Draco's heart skip several rattling beats. It was even fingers fisted threateningly into the front of Draco's robes, and he had to dash off and curl into the shadows of his own bed; looking down and picturing larger hands with bitten nails.
Remus/Sirius, James watching
A shuffle, a gentle brush of sheets and a quiet, quiet moan, and James held his breath as the figures before him shifted a little more. The little squeak was Remus, he knew, Remus was unable to be silent with fingers or anything on his cock and the squeaks would get deeper and closer, become low, long moans.
James had never seen this for the dark, but the picture in his mind was still perfect; soft, thin lips slightly parted, Remus' warm brown curls slightly damp with sweat as Sirius sucked him harder and harder, and then gentler at the end to draw out the finish.
And, oh, the cries had reached that depth now, the bobbing shadow had slowed, and James wondered how it must feel to Sirius, to have Remus in his mouth, to smell and taste him and hold his hips down. Oh, the weight on his tongue and the sharp saltiness. James slid the fingers of his spare hand between his own lips and closed his eyes, because it should be him, oh yes, and Remus' deep moan washed gorgeously through his ears as he came.
Remus/James, Sirius watching
Sirius is always amazed at how gentle James is with Remus. James is never gentle with Sirius, is all passion, wild eyes and hot breath, claws and teeth and over in minutes.
James fucks Remus like he will shatter if not treated delicately, or that one too-sharp thrust and he might fade and evaporate into thin air.
Or thick air, as Sirius watches his best friends moving so slowly; James' hands on Remus' hips, Remus' knees over James' shoulders.
James leans close to Remus and whispers soft, crooning words to him as they fuck. Words like 'beautiful' and even 'darling'. James calls Remus 'pretty' and 'love' and tells him how good he is, how good they are together. He strokes Remus' cheek and belly and cock until Remus is coming, soft and yelping, and James' own orgasm seems softer and longer too.
When he's fucking Sirius, James yells, the feeling screams out of him and his face twists as it wracks his body.
With Remus, the feeling seems to suffuse gently, warmly over James' face, through his whole body and into every last cell of him, and James and Remus curl together afterwards, still joined, panting shaky, overwhelmed breaths onto each others skin.
And Sirius wonders which of them it is that James loves most.
And fic later. Honest, I swear.
I've counted, and appear to have written 37 drabbles for my seven month lj birthday whatever-that-was. Here's all the ones I'm not ashamed of:
James/Sirius, glitter and eyeliner
Eyes rimmed with ashy kohl and Sirius looked like a god; slim, enticing, half-feminine, edible. It was a dirty secret, but James would sit on his knee to line his friend's eyes for him, so he could feel Sirius' narrow hips resting between his knees and Sirius' smooth thighs against his own. Sirius never wore eyeliner to go out mainly because he was never allowed to leave once it was on: James would be kissing him, cupping his face and sucking his lower lip, so hungry, and that would be them for the night. Naked skin, sticky with glitter and lip gloss, shifting together, kohl smudged like bruises. In the morning, James would wash it all off Sirius with soft care, but only so it could be reapplied the following evening.
James/Sirius, nose-biting teacups
James splayed his body back on the bed, laughing horrendously, because how many years had it been since any of them had fallen for such a childish joke as a teacup that bit you. Sirius pouted and whined and was pretty, even with tiny, tiny teeth-marks on the tip of his beautiful nose. James pinched at Sirius' cheek and said 'nosey-wosey' a lot and smooched his lips in to kiss it better, with Sirius wrinkling his nose and twitching away. And it was an accident, more than anything, when they found themselves nuzzled in too close: two pairs of scared eyes and two sets of trembling lips. 'Kiss it better?' James asked, low and serious this time, and Sirius nodded.
Regulus/Sirius, a celebration
Whether it was ego, narcissism, whatever, he didn't know. This would be his last Christmas at Grimmauld Place, and it was marred by Regulus' perfect beauty as they curled together under the sheets to open the presents they'd bought each other. Regulus' breath was chocolate and tangerines and Sirius fumbled at the wrapping paper because he was shaking so much. He could taste Regulus, almost, because they were sharing air in such a confined space and he barely noticed what his present was once Regulus had started to lick chocolate from his fingers again.
Next Christmas he'd be seventeen and somewhere else, with James, who was still male but a lot less tempting. And now, maybe he could make it through, just about. If he could get through his father's speeches and his mother's sniping. Get through Regulus' wine-stained lips and dress-robed beauty. And he'd be okay.
Sirius/Remus/Regulus, candlewax
When the candles had been snuffed, Sirius would put his fingers in them (now he likes to put his fingers in half-bloods, Regulus thinks, and not just his fingers) and he'd get little caps of wax on his fingertips. Sirius would then click them on the table. A spider tapdancing, he'd say, and they'd snigger until their mother shouted.
Regulus contemplates the blood-like circle of wax on his own finger and turns to find his brother and Lupin are staring at him.
'You snuffed the candle,' Sirius says coldly, 'and you aren't even watching,' he adds. Lupin returns his attentions to Sirius' neck and shoulder, kissing hungrily, settled comfortably in Sirius' lap.
Regulus reaches his finger out, strokes it down the hollow of his brother's cheekbone, his sense of touch numbed to a dull pressure.
Sirius' eyes widen. 'You sick little bastard,' he says with a dark chuckle, reaching to drag Regulus in.
Neville/Luna
He knows she goes to the cupboard on the fourth floor a lot; it's full of of stuffed animals and damaged paintings and sculptures and so much dust you could make an army from it. All the mad old junk makes it her sort of place.
They're like opposites, really, except that one thing in common.
She's so matter-of-fact, almost like his grandmother, except that his grandmother never said 'You want to kiss me', or if she did, then she didn't mean with tongues.
So he kissed her (Luna, that is), and she tasted like Butterbeer, which is shockingly, well, normal for her. He wouldn't have expected that, he'd have expected exotic spices or aromatic oils or maybe even something ghastly, but at least it would be ghastly in an interesting way. But Butterbeer, because again she had to surprise him.
He doesn't like surprises, but with Luna it's always a good sort of surprise.
Remus/James
Remus is quiet and unassuming, with gentle, open eyes and a scruffy halo of brown curls to hide him from the world. For all their pranks and plots, and even Prongs, James doesn't really notice Remus until they're sixteen and Sirius is too busy being mad and Peter too busy with his book on Animagi transformations to notice.
When James creeps up behind him, curls a hand around Remus' hip and breathes hot over Remus' skin, Remus trembles a little and grins, that hitched-sideways grin, nipping on his bottom lip until it goes white. James doesn't know what this is, or what it will be, but sometimes they lie together and though they barely even touch except fingers, it's still something, and James likes the sharp little spark of it. But they do watch each other, really watch, and James sometimes dares to brush Remus' hair from his eyes because he wants to see more.
Remus/James, hints at R/S/J
It was naughty, very wrong, and James remembered Sirius' expression last time he'd caught them -- a dark press of jealous frustration -- but then Sirius wasn't here now.
Except that he was. 'Do you shag him in this cupboard?' was the first thing Remus had asked. 'Oh yes,' James had replied, 'yes. Against this very wall,' he added, crushing Remus against it, sucking on Remus' soft, soft lips, pushing his nose into Remus' skin to inhale the heavy scent of him. 'Yes.'
'Don't you--' Remus started, but became distracted by James' purposeful kisses, down Remus' neck and collar, hard bites into Remus' delicate skin. Remus cried out as James' lips were over his nipple. 'Don't touch him again without me watching,' Remus gasped, head thrown back.
'Promise,' James mumbled, lips already following that trail of hair down Remus' belly, pleased because Sirius didn't get to watch this.
Harry/Draco, wrists and fingers
If they hadn't been Seekers then he'd never have noticed, but his father's anger always brought the image immediately to his mind; Harry Potter's pale, long fingers curled around the desperately fluttering Snitch.
And now the Snitch didn't matter. It was Potter's palm curved around the spine of a book, Potter's index finger curling to pluck innocently at his bottom lip, the clench of fist and arch of wrist as Potter stirred a potion.
It was knobbly, chillblained knuckles, the rough skin of a common half-blood that chased Draco's own pure, clean blood downwards. It was sweaty, grubby palms in menacing, sarcastic handshakes that made Draco's heart skip several rattling beats. It was even fingers fisted threateningly into the front of Draco's robes, and he had to dash off and curl into the shadows of his own bed; looking down and picturing larger hands with bitten nails.
Remus/Sirius, James watching
A shuffle, a gentle brush of sheets and a quiet, quiet moan, and James held his breath as the figures before him shifted a little more. The little squeak was Remus, he knew, Remus was unable to be silent with fingers or anything on his cock and the squeaks would get deeper and closer, become low, long moans.
James had never seen this for the dark, but the picture in his mind was still perfect; soft, thin lips slightly parted, Remus' warm brown curls slightly damp with sweat as Sirius sucked him harder and harder, and then gentler at the end to draw out the finish.
And, oh, the cries had reached that depth now, the bobbing shadow had slowed, and James wondered how it must feel to Sirius, to have Remus in his mouth, to smell and taste him and hold his hips down. Oh, the weight on his tongue and the sharp saltiness. James slid the fingers of his spare hand between his own lips and closed his eyes, because it should be him, oh yes, and Remus' deep moan washed gorgeously through his ears as he came.
Remus/James, Sirius watching
Sirius is always amazed at how gentle James is with Remus. James is never gentle with Sirius, is all passion, wild eyes and hot breath, claws and teeth and over in minutes.
James fucks Remus like he will shatter if not treated delicately, or that one too-sharp thrust and he might fade and evaporate into thin air.
Or thick air, as Sirius watches his best friends moving so slowly; James' hands on Remus' hips, Remus' knees over James' shoulders.
James leans close to Remus and whispers soft, crooning words to him as they fuck. Words like 'beautiful' and even 'darling'. James calls Remus 'pretty' and 'love' and tells him how good he is, how good they are together. He strokes Remus' cheek and belly and cock until Remus is coming, soft and yelping, and James' own orgasm seems softer and longer too.
When he's fucking Sirius, James yells, the feeling screams out of him and his face twists as it wracks his body.
With Remus, the feeling seems to suffuse gently, warmly over James' face, through his whole body and into every last cell of him, and James and Remus curl together afterwards, still joined, panting shaky, overwhelmed breaths onto each others skin.
And Sirius wonders which of them it is that James loves most.
And fic later. Honest, I swear.