Week Four Drabbles
Welcome to Week Four! Early posting because I'm fairly sure I'm going to sleep for a week after being kept awake all night by sooky kids. *grumbles*
The theme for this week is erotica, and our participants delivered the expected heat and sexy times! With no further ado...
1.
Title: To Sir
Author: threepwillow
Summary: If the world were fair it wouldn't end like this.
Warnings: explicit written content!/mentions of oral sex
If things were fair you wouldn't be here. It wouldn't be you who gets shipped round the world to translate, infiltrate, break; you'd shut everything out, and he'd fly off everywhere. But in this backward world he stays trapped as Azkaban and you're as lost and wandering as ever. They say "at least you have each other." But in war, no one has anyone.
An owl flutters outside and you let it in. The room chills with the open window, but you warm at the familiar penmanship, so you stay about the same, really. I'm bored, every letter begins. He's miserable; you'd give anything for boredom.
You screech to a halt mid-page.
Truthfully I'm rock-hard right now, he writes; your breath quickens, little visible puffs - just thinking of what I'd do to you. Miss your cock, the skin of it, roll and slide of it, my hand, my mouth. I'd suck you so hard, open my throat wide for you, your smell, your skin. Always your skin. The parchment trembles. The owl has flown. I know you love this. Last March, you had me by the hair, bloody fucked my mouth. I can remember exactly how deep you were. You say it's the moon, you lose yourself when it's approaching, but I think you're bluffing. I think you always want this, it's always there. Deep down, inside of you, like I want you deep down inside me. Take your thick, enormous cock and fuck my mouth, Remus, like your heart and soul have fucked the whole of me.
If the world were fair, he'd write gracelessly, like a petulant schoolboy, terrible at turning phrases. His words would never flutter from your hand as you jam it to your mouth, jam the other down your robes, don't even close the window.
2.
Title: Platonic Erotica
Author: amuly
Summary: Sirius shares an erotic moment of Remus’.
Warnings: nerdiness ahoy
Soft moans drifted out from Remus’ bed curtains and over to Sirius early one Saturday morning. Sirius leapt from his bed. What could be causing Remus to make such heavenly sounds, when Sirius wasn’t with him?
He flung Remus’ curtains open, only to find Remus wanking over “Arithmancy?”
A flushed Remus greeted him, glazed eyes looking up from the spells as one hand fisted his erection. “Sirius. Join me?”
Sirius couldn’t believe that Remus was actually aroused by the spells, and not just bluffing. But then Remus let out another filthy moan as the glowing numbers realigned. Sirius’ cock went from flaccid to rigid in one second flat.
Well then.
From beneath thick eyelashes, Remus glanced up at him. “Sirius, please? Can I…?”
Sirius wanted to tease Remus relentlessly. But then he heard his voice treacherously beg “Please, Remus,” and he was lying on the bed, watching as Remus wrote glowing equations on his skin. The numbers and symbols danced; Sirius found that in their radiance, Remus never looked more beautiful.
Afterwards, as they were basking in the remnants of magic and numbers, Sirius rubbed a hand over Remus’ stomach. “This might be the sexiest thing we’ve ever done,” Sirius wondered, watching as numbers still shimmered over their skin. Remus hummed agreeably.
Sirius suddenly felt the need for a proclamation. He pulled himself up, looking down at Remus. “You know, even when your penis is all gross and wrinkly, and your balls are hanging way down -”
“Sweet Merlin, does that happen?!”
“Sush, love. I’m being romantic.” Sirius cleared his throat and continued. “Even then, I’ll still want to shag you rotten every day, because of your gorgeous brain.”
“You sop.”
“Your sop,” Sirius corrected smugly. As they kissed, the last of the golden equations melted from their skin.
3.
Title: in vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua
Author: kittysorceress
Summary: Some dreams are better than belief and too vivid to be true.
Warnings: teenage pranks
You awake to the press of lips against your own. These lips are soft and inviting, they are coaxing and then insistent. You don’t dare to open your eyes but have no qualms about kissing back with the same gentle passion afforded to you. You can smell his particular scent and, feeling the press of the length of his body against yours, its wiry shape and graceful movement, there is no doubt who is kissing you.
So you won’t open your eyes, as this is probably still a dream.
You didn’t quite notice at first, feeling only him and oh yes, but he is draped against you in such a way that makes every minute movement - of which there are increasingly more - set off a little jolt in your heart that runs its way down to the tips of your fingers and the bottom of your feet. You lift your tingling fingers from your sides and dare not place them anywhere but on the waist they first make contact with.
He lets out a moan and bites at your lower lip and runs a hand through your hair and you moan and this is exactly the right thing to do in this moment.
But then there is laughter from beside the bed and he pulls away. Despite all your better judgement, your eyes snap open to see Sirius straddling your lap and grinning, James and Peter pyjama-clad and camera wielding.
You have never felt so betrayed, but this is not the time for that. This is the time for teenage boys being teenage boys and calling bluffs and throwing pillows and...
You think you see something apologetic in Sirius’ eye over breakfast. Your heart leaps and you don’t know whether you want this dream to start or to end.
4.
Title: White Collar Boy
Author: archduck
Summary: Sirius enjoys their morning ritual
Warnings: Implied reference to masturbation
It was the same every morning. Crisp cotton slid easily over pale skin, making soft rustling sounds as it settled itself over lithe musculature. Practised hands smoothed the starched white fabric and turned the collar down with careful precision. For an all too brief moment, the shirt hung open, leaving the huge red scar in the centre of his chest exposed, the scar Sirius liked to trace with his tongue over and over until Remus’s fingers clenched in his hair and he’d gasp, ‘Sirius, oh...’
Sometimes, Remus ran a hand over his bare skin, dropping to brush the light wisps of hair trailing from bellybutton to waistband, and he’d lift his head to flash Sirius a teasing grin. Sirius hoped desperately that one day Remus wouldn’t be bluffing, that he’d slide a hand into his trousers and touch himself there and then. Instead, long, deft fingers made light work of buttons and tucked shirttails in neatly.
Sirius’s favourite part of this morning ritual was when Remus walked him back against the bathroom wall and pressed close, smelling of soap and fresh aftershave.
‘Do me up, Padfoot?’ he’d whisper, lips grazing Sirius’s ear.
Sirius would nod and reach down to button up Remus’s shirtsleeves, letting his fingertips brush the silky skin on the inside of Remus’s wrists. Then he’d dip his head to press a feather-light kiss to the base of Remus’s throat, and spend the rest of the day in eager anticipation of the moment when he’d get to watch Remus take his shirt off.
5.
Title: Worship
Author: ceredwensirius
Summary: Their worship is mutual.
Warnings: Sex
Remus can’t find the words tonight, so rare for him, but he is overcome by a familiar intensity. It emanates from Sirius, as though it has flowed into Remus and been turned inside out. It always feels like worship between them, like every tender press of Sirius’ lips against his body is a benediction. Sirius has long since left his bluff and bravado behind him, a change that came with the acceptance of what they are to one another. Remus lets his fingers drift down from the nape of Sirius’ neck, slow and careful, wanting to feel every inch of skin. Sirius’ mouth opens to gasp and Remus sees the surrender. It humbles him, that Sirius - who submits to no man’s will - gives over so willingly to Remus. This reverence is mutual; Remus feels it under his fingertips as they slide further down and slip into the cleft of Sirius’ arse. It awes him to feel Sirius relax, to know that Sirius wants this, wants to be prepared, wants to feel Remus inside him. It is nearly sacred to Remus, who feels like the supplicant, and entering Sirius’ body is a sacrament. As they move in tandem together, gasping praise and endearments, they find more in each other than any deity could offer.
There will be one elimination this week due to a participant dropping out.
Comments are screened. Please include both the number and title of your favourite and least favourite fic in your vote. Participants, you are encouraged to vote, but please don't vote for your own drabble. Reveals and results will be posted Wednesday, 11th August.
We encourage you to leave feedback, even for drabbles you didn't vote for, and we'll pass the love along to the authors once voting is over.
Enjoy! :)
The theme for this week is erotica, and our participants delivered the expected heat and sexy times! With no further ado...
1.
Title: To Sir
Author: threepwillow
Summary: If the world were fair it wouldn't end like this.
Warnings: explicit written content!/mentions of oral sex
If things were fair you wouldn't be here. It wouldn't be you who gets shipped round the world to translate, infiltrate, break; you'd shut everything out, and he'd fly off everywhere. But in this backward world he stays trapped as Azkaban and you're as lost and wandering as ever. They say "at least you have each other." But in war, no one has anyone.
An owl flutters outside and you let it in. The room chills with the open window, but you warm at the familiar penmanship, so you stay about the same, really. I'm bored, every letter begins. He's miserable; you'd give anything for boredom.
You screech to a halt mid-page.
Truthfully I'm rock-hard right now, he writes; your breath quickens, little visible puffs - just thinking of what I'd do to you. Miss your cock, the skin of it, roll and slide of it, my hand, my mouth. I'd suck you so hard, open my throat wide for you, your smell, your skin. Always your skin. The parchment trembles. The owl has flown. I know you love this. Last March, you had me by the hair, bloody fucked my mouth. I can remember exactly how deep you were. You say it's the moon, you lose yourself when it's approaching, but I think you're bluffing. I think you always want this, it's always there. Deep down, inside of you, like I want you deep down inside me. Take your thick, enormous cock and fuck my mouth, Remus, like your heart and soul have fucked the whole of me.
If the world were fair, he'd write gracelessly, like a petulant schoolboy, terrible at turning phrases. His words would never flutter from your hand as you jam it to your mouth, jam the other down your robes, don't even close the window.
2.
Title: Platonic Erotica
Author: amuly
Summary: Sirius shares an erotic moment of Remus’.
Warnings: nerdiness ahoy
Soft moans drifted out from Remus’ bed curtains and over to Sirius early one Saturday morning. Sirius leapt from his bed. What could be causing Remus to make such heavenly sounds, when Sirius wasn’t with him?
He flung Remus’ curtains open, only to find Remus wanking over “Arithmancy?”
A flushed Remus greeted him, glazed eyes looking up from the spells as one hand fisted his erection. “Sirius. Join me?”
Sirius couldn’t believe that Remus was actually aroused by the spells, and not just bluffing. But then Remus let out another filthy moan as the glowing numbers realigned. Sirius’ cock went from flaccid to rigid in one second flat.
Well then.
From beneath thick eyelashes, Remus glanced up at him. “Sirius, please? Can I…?”
Sirius wanted to tease Remus relentlessly. But then he heard his voice treacherously beg “Please, Remus,” and he was lying on the bed, watching as Remus wrote glowing equations on his skin. The numbers and symbols danced; Sirius found that in their radiance, Remus never looked more beautiful.
Afterwards, as they were basking in the remnants of magic and numbers, Sirius rubbed a hand over Remus’ stomach. “This might be the sexiest thing we’ve ever done,” Sirius wondered, watching as numbers still shimmered over their skin. Remus hummed agreeably.
Sirius suddenly felt the need for a proclamation. He pulled himself up, looking down at Remus. “You know, even when your penis is all gross and wrinkly, and your balls are hanging way down -”
“Sweet Merlin, does that happen?!”
“Sush, love. I’m being romantic.” Sirius cleared his throat and continued. “Even then, I’ll still want to shag you rotten every day, because of your gorgeous brain.”
“You sop.”
“Your sop,” Sirius corrected smugly. As they kissed, the last of the golden equations melted from their skin.
3.
Title: in vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua
Author: kittysorceress
Summary: Some dreams are better than belief and too vivid to be true.
Warnings: teenage pranks
You awake to the press of lips against your own. These lips are soft and inviting, they are coaxing and then insistent. You don’t dare to open your eyes but have no qualms about kissing back with the same gentle passion afforded to you. You can smell his particular scent and, feeling the press of the length of his body against yours, its wiry shape and graceful movement, there is no doubt who is kissing you.
So you won’t open your eyes, as this is probably still a dream.
You didn’t quite notice at first, feeling only him and oh yes, but he is draped against you in such a way that makes every minute movement - of which there are increasingly more - set off a little jolt in your heart that runs its way down to the tips of your fingers and the bottom of your feet. You lift your tingling fingers from your sides and dare not place them anywhere but on the waist they first make contact with.
He lets out a moan and bites at your lower lip and runs a hand through your hair and you moan and this is exactly the right thing to do in this moment.
But then there is laughter from beside the bed and he pulls away. Despite all your better judgement, your eyes snap open to see Sirius straddling your lap and grinning, James and Peter pyjama-clad and camera wielding.
You have never felt so betrayed, but this is not the time for that. This is the time for teenage boys being teenage boys and calling bluffs and throwing pillows and...
You think you see something apologetic in Sirius’ eye over breakfast. Your heart leaps and you don’t know whether you want this dream to start or to end.
4.
Title: White Collar Boy
Author: archduck
Summary: Sirius enjoys their morning ritual
Warnings: Implied reference to masturbation
It was the same every morning. Crisp cotton slid easily over pale skin, making soft rustling sounds as it settled itself over lithe musculature. Practised hands smoothed the starched white fabric and turned the collar down with careful precision. For an all too brief moment, the shirt hung open, leaving the huge red scar in the centre of his chest exposed, the scar Sirius liked to trace with his tongue over and over until Remus’s fingers clenched in his hair and he’d gasp, ‘Sirius, oh...’
Sometimes, Remus ran a hand over his bare skin, dropping to brush the light wisps of hair trailing from bellybutton to waistband, and he’d lift his head to flash Sirius a teasing grin. Sirius hoped desperately that one day Remus wouldn’t be bluffing, that he’d slide a hand into his trousers and touch himself there and then. Instead, long, deft fingers made light work of buttons and tucked shirttails in neatly.
Sirius’s favourite part of this morning ritual was when Remus walked him back against the bathroom wall and pressed close, smelling of soap and fresh aftershave.
‘Do me up, Padfoot?’ he’d whisper, lips grazing Sirius’s ear.
Sirius would nod and reach down to button up Remus’s shirtsleeves, letting his fingertips brush the silky skin on the inside of Remus’s wrists. Then he’d dip his head to press a feather-light kiss to the base of Remus’s throat, and spend the rest of the day in eager anticipation of the moment when he’d get to watch Remus take his shirt off.
5.
Title: Worship
Author: ceredwensirius
Summary: Their worship is mutual.
Warnings: Sex
Remus can’t find the words tonight, so rare for him, but he is overcome by a familiar intensity. It emanates from Sirius, as though it has flowed into Remus and been turned inside out. It always feels like worship between them, like every tender press of Sirius’ lips against his body is a benediction. Sirius has long since left his bluff and bravado behind him, a change that came with the acceptance of what they are to one another. Remus lets his fingers drift down from the nape of Sirius’ neck, slow and careful, wanting to feel every inch of skin. Sirius’ mouth opens to gasp and Remus sees the surrender. It humbles him, that Sirius - who submits to no man’s will - gives over so willingly to Remus. This reverence is mutual; Remus feels it under his fingertips as they slide further down and slip into the cleft of Sirius’ arse. It awes him to feel Sirius relax, to know that Sirius wants this, wants to be prepared, wants to feel Remus inside him. It is nearly sacred to Remus, who feels like the supplicant, and entering Sirius’ body is a sacrament. As they move in tandem together, gasping praise and endearments, they find more in each other than any deity could offer.
There will be one elimination this week due to a participant dropping out.
Comments are screened. Please include both the number and title of your favourite and least favourite fic in your vote. Participants, you are encouraged to vote, but please don't vote for your own drabble. Reveals and results will be posted Wednesday, 11th August.
We encourage you to leave feedback, even for drabbles you didn't vote for, and we'll pass the love along to the authors once voting is over.
Enjoy! :)