(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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[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

[homely_illiad]

Oh, but this was just so rich!

Illiad was smirking as the broom fell and he swung an arm around Paris' shoulder, pulling him closer. Byrd looked like he was about to cry. He didn't even go for his broom again.

"Hsst!" Illiad hissed at his younger teammate, which caused Hisoka to start, fearfully. "Run off, Byrd! Get! Go find Takurai and coach him through his damnable stutter!" Illiad laughed.

Hisoka didn't waste any time picking up his broom. He bolted, the wings of his scarf flying high behind him. It wasn't clear if he was crying, but he was most certainly upset about what had happened.

Illiad, however, was not.

"That was good," he said, wiping tears from his laughter out of his eyes. "I didn't know those two liked one another! Ridiculous. How did he even make the team, anyways?!" he asked his lover, kissing his cheek. He knew Hisoka was a very good chaser, but still.

[perfect_paris]

Paris grinned darkly as he watched Hisoka bolt away. Snickering wildly, he ran a hand through his hair before shaking it out a bit. Ah, it felt so refreshing-- this picking on underclassmen business. Yes, it made Paris feel better about himself, and he wasn't afraid to admit that.

And Illiad-- Lord! Illiad was a sexy, silver-tongued fox. Paris couldn't prevent the swell of pride within him as Illiad chased Hisoka away with his delectable hisses

[homely_illiad]

"I don't shag in nature," Illiad said, raising an eyebrow, suddenly cold. And not temperature wise. "Not in the cold. Not anymore."

He sighed and knew that he might have just ruined the mood, so he pulled Paris close to him and looked up into his eyes.

"No, darling," he amended, quickly. "I want you in the warmth. C'mon. We'll go to a classroom with a grate and we'll lock the doors. Do you like hot chocolate?" he asked. He liked it, but only when it was dark, and luckily, he had some ingredients for that.

"We will curl up in the fire, yeah? And be warm and loved. I would like that."

[perfect_paris]

Paris furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity and slight worry. The tone in Illiad's voice had suggested something bad, but Paris didn't know what it was. He had to suppress his curiosity.

"Whatever you say, cara mia," he continued in a low voice. Paris couldn't hide the worry in his voice, but he quickly moved the conversation along. He smiled at Illiad's suggestion. "I love hot chocolate, Illiad."

He was about to add that he preferred it dark, but Illiad was thinking the same thought at the same thought, apparently! They were on the same wavelength a great deal of the time, actually...

"Mmmm," Paris purred, holding Illiad close to his chest. "I would like that as well, love. Come, let's go back to the castle. Our Quidditch team has failed us, eh?"

Gripping his broom tightly in one hand, Paris used his other hand to tug on Illiad's lovingly.