[Harry Potter] [James/Teddy] Paper Thin.
Title: Paper Thin.
Subject: Harry Potter | James/Teddy
Rating: PG
Summary: They run.
Notes: Set in this verse. Prompt was run.
Teddy plans his runs around his shifts at the hospital. Night shifts meaning staying awake a little longer, pushing his body a little farther so he can run with the dawn. Day shifts mean an early start, awake before the sun.
When he runs, it's like everything's the way it should be, he can imagine James by his side, goading him to go faster, harder, longer. When he stops, when he has to put on his mediwizard robes, everything's back to not right and James isn't there and it's hard to pretend anything when you're portkeying out to the latest battle to patch someone up and hoping it isn't your boyfriend.
James doesn't have the luxury of planning his runs, or planning anything. He's the face of the war and nothing else - a face doesn't need to think, it needs to sit pretty, speak pretty and be damn fine at killing. Every aspect of his life is planned for him. The runs are his rebellion, a moment snatched back from his minders, a moment when he can lose himself and they can't find him. He's not stupid. He keeps his wand in his hand. They just don't understand how much he needs to feel of the ground pounding under his feet, the burn of his lungs and the ache of his calves. They don't know how much he needs to lose himself in the memories of evening runs with Teddy, laughing together as their feet beat out a rhythm on the pavements.
They don't understand much except for war.
After the battle of Lindisfarne, James sneaks away. He's battered and bruised and exhausted and he charms his way into the medical tents, smiles and compliments handed out like they mean nothing, and there, in the middle of it all, Teddy is smiling down at a soldier like his happiness might make her injuries better.
James doesn't know about that, but when he sneaks up on Teddy and sets an arm on his shoulder, the startled grin, the suffocating hug he gets certainly make him feel better.
"Wait for me," Teddy says, pushing James gently away. "Five minutes, I'll be with you."
Five minutes turns into ten turns into twenty but Teddy finally comes out of the tent, robes stripped off and he's wearing a shirt that's on the wrong edge of too small and the trackies he'd worn every Sunday morning before the war. James heart constricts, his breath comes in too shallow but he manages to mumble out something, even as he reaches for Teddy.
"Let's run," he says, his hand twisting with Teddy's for a moment before pulls away, steps back and looks for a clear path.
"Now?" Teddy's eyebrows are raised, his eyes wide, but James is adept at ignoring that look.
"Now."
They pick a path through the remnants of the battle, run straight across the causeway and around the castle before they head back. The tide's coming in and the water laps at their ankles but they carry on, back to the mass of tents. Teddy keeps James' pace the entire way, grinning every time James glances back over his shoulder to see him right there.
They stop on the edge of camp, in the shadows, out of sight for a little longer.
"I have to get back," James says, pressing into Teddy's space, close enough that their deep breaths mingle now. "They're going to kill me for running off like that."
"Be safe," Teddy murmurs, leans into to press a gentle kiss to James' lips. "I don't want to have to heal you."
"You too," James says, smiles and holds Teddy's hand a little tighter. "I know what soldiers get like when they're in pain."
Teddy watches him walk away, watches him press onwards into a jog when he breaks the line of tents, watches him until he's out of sight and then he turns on his heel, heads back to the medical tents and not being able to pretend everything's normal.
Subject: Harry Potter | James/Teddy
Rating: PG
Summary: They run.
Notes: Set in this verse. Prompt was run.
Teddy plans his runs around his shifts at the hospital. Night shifts meaning staying awake a little longer, pushing his body a little farther so he can run with the dawn. Day shifts mean an early start, awake before the sun.
When he runs, it's like everything's the way it should be, he can imagine James by his side, goading him to go faster, harder, longer. When he stops, when he has to put on his mediwizard robes, everything's back to not right and James isn't there and it's hard to pretend anything when you're portkeying out to the latest battle to patch someone up and hoping it isn't your boyfriend.
James doesn't have the luxury of planning his runs, or planning anything. He's the face of the war and nothing else - a face doesn't need to think, it needs to sit pretty, speak pretty and be damn fine at killing. Every aspect of his life is planned for him. The runs are his rebellion, a moment snatched back from his minders, a moment when he can lose himself and they can't find him. He's not stupid. He keeps his wand in his hand. They just don't understand how much he needs to feel of the ground pounding under his feet, the burn of his lungs and the ache of his calves. They don't know how much he needs to lose himself in the memories of evening runs with Teddy, laughing together as their feet beat out a rhythm on the pavements.
They don't understand much except for war.
After the battle of Lindisfarne, James sneaks away. He's battered and bruised and exhausted and he charms his way into the medical tents, smiles and compliments handed out like they mean nothing, and there, in the middle of it all, Teddy is smiling down at a soldier like his happiness might make her injuries better.
James doesn't know about that, but when he sneaks up on Teddy and sets an arm on his shoulder, the startled grin, the suffocating hug he gets certainly make him feel better.
"Wait for me," Teddy says, pushing James gently away. "Five minutes, I'll be with you."
Five minutes turns into ten turns into twenty but Teddy finally comes out of the tent, robes stripped off and he's wearing a shirt that's on the wrong edge of too small and the trackies he'd worn every Sunday morning before the war. James heart constricts, his breath comes in too shallow but he manages to mumble out something, even as he reaches for Teddy.
"Let's run," he says, his hand twisting with Teddy's for a moment before pulls away, steps back and looks for a clear path.
"Now?" Teddy's eyebrows are raised, his eyes wide, but James is adept at ignoring that look.
"Now."
They pick a path through the remnants of the battle, run straight across the causeway and around the castle before they head back. The tide's coming in and the water laps at their ankles but they carry on, back to the mass of tents. Teddy keeps James' pace the entire way, grinning every time James glances back over his shoulder to see him right there.
They stop on the edge of camp, in the shadows, out of sight for a little longer.
"I have to get back," James says, pressing into Teddy's space, close enough that their deep breaths mingle now. "They're going to kill me for running off like that."
"Be safe," Teddy murmurs, leans into to press a gentle kiss to James' lips. "I don't want to have to heal you."
"You too," James says, smiles and holds Teddy's hand a little tighter. "I know what soldiers get like when they're in pain."
Teddy watches him walk away, watches him press onwards into a jog when he breaks the line of tents, watches him until he's out of sight and then he turns on his heel, heads back to the medical tents and not being able to pretend everything's normal.