How is a Raven like a Writing Desk?

[das_vedanya]

WHO: Raivis, Ivan, and Alfred
WHEN: Sunday, October 17th, Afternoon
WHERE: Outside the Great Hall, Grand Staircase.
WHAT: A love-struck Gryffindor, an envious Slytherin, and romantic  potion-maker walk into a barcorridor...

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[waitforsuperman]

Alfred spotted the boy and his heart absolutely soared. There he was, his love, his one true desire~ On light feet, he wandered over toe Raivis and that tall, big-nosed weird guy he always hung around. He watched the younger one turn on the stairs to see him and melted at his soft and sweet face~ God he was just so cute, so boyish and yet that little devilish air in his fathomless light violet eyes.

Face-to-face with his love, Alfred smiled at the boy, a look of absolute sunshine and adoration, very rare for anyone and almost inconceivable to a Slytherin whom Alfred usual reserved looks of absolute pure hatred for. But he didn't hate Raivis~ Never his dear, cherubic Raivis.

"Hello~~" he said as a greeting before one hand slammed on the wallbehind him, near the ugly-Russian and Alfred leaned forward. His free hand cupped that perfect little face, the tips of his fingers playing with the slightly curled hair (God it was soooooo soft~!). He winked once before pressing a long and sweet kiss to the younger boy's lips. Man he tastes so

[man_nav_naudas]

They were a classic, the Transfigured textbooks. A guilty pleasure that no matter how often Raivis swore he would stop indulging in, his own charms always seemed to end up firmly embedded upon creeping, leather bound lizards and chirping Astronomy texts. Today's flavor of magic was a delightful spell to repel an item from its owner regardless of Accio attempts they may or may not have known to try. It elicited a smirk of satisfaction from Ivan and for that, the clawed beast of Anxiety quelled its squeezing around Raivis's heart.

Until he heard that name. "Oh." He was slowly rotating in place as he heard the pound of the American's footsteps. So harsh, too loud. Expected, but not here and God, not now. Ivan, beside him, was still. Predatory in the way a wolf spotted another of its kind and knew it must bare its teeth or be gutted

[das_vedanya]

What.

What.

Что.

Was this the American's idea of an apology? Was there some cultural tradition in America where you apologize for standing someone up by making out with your best friend while you are standing beside them? If so, then America is a place that Ivan has no plan to ever visit. And Americans are the last kind of people he wants to identify himself with. Without a single word of warning and with no regard toward who was physically harmed, he hooked his fore and middle fingers beneath Raivis's tie and yanked him out of Alfred's arms, away from the American's grip, and dislodged from that slimy, deceitful, lying, cheating, whoring, promise-breaking, friend-snogging mouth of his, back by Ivan's side where Raivis belonged.

"What do you think you're doing, Jones?!" The Russian barked with a color on his cheeks so brilliant that the scarlet pebbles in the hour glasses behind him seemed gray by comparison. "Public displays of affection are not permitted!"

[waitforsuperman]

What the Russian was yelling about? Alfred was only really aware of Raivis getting torn away from him. What the hell was Russki's problem? He was just trying to hiss is one and only true love!

"Kissing Raivis!" Alfred said, voice so loud and passionate that he caught the attention of a few passing students who paused on the grand staircase to watch. Alfred felt like Romeo and Juliet except Montague was just a nasty ol' Russian that would be easily defeated by Alfred's undying affect for the young Raivis.

He reached over, grabbing the boy's hand, tugging him back, smiling at him warmly, his large hand holding Raivis' tight. "C'mere Raivis, since we're not allowed in public~" His eyes glinted with the implications and then-

The blue eyes flicked to Ivan- no Russki for a moment. Why was he flushing?

[man_nav_naudas]

Hell is other people.

Yes, Raivis thought, Yes it was.

Already he could see the consequences of his panic that morning unravel further into disasters of cataclysmic proportions. If he let the potion's effects naturally fade, Jones would be liable to continue torturing Ivan indefinitely. How long he had been planning on keeping the Gryffindor at bay with artificial adoration, he didn't actually know but allowing the potion's effects to pursue their course and administering dose after dose also meant an unbearable eternity with Alfred at his heels and the imminent loss of his virtue.

What precious little he had.

"M-mister Jones..." Auras could suffocate if they were strong enough and the pair clashing around him were murderously powerful. Flame and Tundra.

"P-please, stop shouting and calm down. W-what exactly do you want?" It was all he could think to say, rubbing at his neck where the sharp pull of his tie had bit into his skin. Cold then warm.

He wished the taste of Alfred would cease lingering on his tongue.