FIC: Expected Part 5
Dec. 29th, 2008 10:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leashy_bebesExpected, Part 5
PG13
This is a non-smutty chapter, but not the non-smutty chapter that I meant to write. This fic is trying to develop a plot. Weird.
~1500 words [this part]
JKR's, not mine.
The moon is unusually close this month, and you are exhausted by lunch time on Tuesday, even though the full is not until Wednesday night. You head to the dormitory as soon as classes finish on Tuesday afternoon, and curl up on top of your bedcovers, for a quick sleep. The next thing you are even half-aware of is Sirius wrestling with your covers as he pulls them up over you. It is dark and silent as he leans down to kiss your forehead, and you think you mumble a tired thank you before sleep reclaims you.
On Wednesday you feel even worse, and it obviously shows. Sirius hovers anxiously all day, and you try not to get frustrated, because while it is all very nice that he's concerned, you just want to sleep. All your energy is focused on staying awake with none left for reassuring him. James and Peter look at you sympathetically too, but only Sirius feels the need to stay close as though you're about to keel over at any minute. At lunch time, you evade everyone to slog your way back up to Gryffindor tower on your own, intent on getting at least a nap. Sirius wakes you forty-five minutes later, shaking you gently awake.
"Mmm. Hi," you say, scrubbing a hand over your face.
"Alright," he says, sitting down on the edge of your mattress. "Ten minutes 'til Transfiguration," he says and you groan, pushing yourself upright.
"Alright," you say around a yawn.
"I wish there was something I could do."
"Yeah," you nod, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Quick bump of speed?"
"What?" He looks at you blankly, and you think, not for the first time, that the muggle things he does and doesn't know about are weirdly sweet.
"Muggle thing. Drug," you explain, still a bit groggy, and lean forward to kiss him. "Mmm, close enough," you wink, and he laughs delightedly as you push him aside to stand up. "Come on, then."
"Alright," he says. "Just - " and he kisses you softly on the mouth, lips pressed firm and gentle against your own. "That's all," he says, stepping back before you can deepen the kiss and you think a bit wildly that he surprises you. So much. All the time.
Wednesday afternoon passes in a hazy blur, and then there is the full moon. It is immeasurably better with Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail, than it used to be, but you still don't enjoy it. You feel a little guilty about that, sometimes, that you can't fully join in their enthusiasm despite the soaring gratitude that still catches you unawares every now and then, a living, expanding warmth in your chest. Still, it is better, and Sirius waking you up the next morning with a long slow kiss is just great, thank you very much.
"Time is it?" you ask.
"About half five," he says, stroking his fingers over a long, thin scratch on your cheek.
"Where'd that come from?" you ask.
"Me, I think. Sorry."
"S'alright," you say, and reach up, capturing his hand to bring it down and kiss his fingers. "You should go," you tell him, unable to resist flicking your tongue over the tip of his fingers.
"Because that type of behaviour makes me very inclined to move, obviously," he jokes, and you suck one finger into your mouth, biting it gently. He pulls it back out, brushing it over your lower lip as he goes before pressing on the end of your nose. "Go back to sleep until Pomfrey gets here. I'll see you later."
"Alright," you nod, slumping back down into the covers to watch him go - a very lovely sight indeed. He waves over his shoulder as he leaves the room and you smile vaguely, snuggling down into the covers for a few more minutes, your mind full of Sirius' promises about evening entertainment. You are still tired, but the thought of some of the things he'd been promising and threatening to do to you sustain you all day until halfway through Potions class when Sirius manages to get himself a bloody detention with Snape, of all people.
Naturally with the sniping and arguing during, and the prerequisite duel-cum-brawl afterwards, the detention takes twice as long to complete as usual. By the time he gets back to the dormitory and the four of your have worked out how to get rid of the interesting combination of pink hair and yellow eyebrows (yeah, he protests, but you should see the state of Snape) it is after half eleven and you both reluctantly fall into your own beds. Over the sounds of James trailing from the bathroom to his bed and tripping over Peter's discarded shoes, you hear Sirius padding across the room to your bed.
"Where's my Charms text?" he asks, batting your curtains aside and kneeling on the edge of your bed.
"What? I don't have your bloody Charms book," you say and, quick as a flash, he tugs the bed curtains closed behind him and swoops in to kiss you swiftly.
"I know," he whispers against your mouth. "Sorry about the detention. I'll be good tomorrow."
"You'd better," you laugh, and shove him hard in the chest.
"Fuck!" he wails, grabbing at the curtains and pulling them half down as he falls onto the floor on his back. "You'll pay for that," he promises you, bounding to his feet.
"I bet I will," you grin, and you can't bring yourself to care that James is giving the two of you that look again, or that Peter is glaring.
"Night," Sirius calls softly from his own bed.
"Shut up," Peter calls back.
"Night, Padfoot," you whisper.
There is a snort of laughter from James' bed.
You still can't bring yourself to care
By the time Friday evening finally rolls around, you think you might actually be going mad with frustration. You have had to discount any thoughts you've ever entertained that you might be a little more restrained than him in your needs and wants. You are positively itching for him. You have to try so hard not to beam with delight when Sirius talks Peter, and a suspicious looking James, into doing a kitchen run. He heads over towards your bed as soon as they are gone and you stand up, take hold of his tie and tug him forward, intending to kiss him soundly.
"Don't do that," he says quietly, jerking back a little.
"What?" you ask, genuinely confused. It takes you a moment to realise that he can only really be talking about the tie thing, and that seems like such a weird objection considering some things you've done together.
"That. Don't do that again," he says again.
"Er - okay," you say, and you feel a bit strange. Now that he's drawn your attention to it, you can't quite keep your eyes off his tie. You have no particular desire to pull on it again, especially knowing that he doesn't like you to do it. You still can't stop looking at it though, and you can feel him watching you, can feel him getting a bit prickly. You reach for the knot on his tie, intending to undo it and get the problem out of the way altogether. Your eyes widen when he backs off a step, frowning at you.
"What are you doing?"
"I was going to take it off," you tell him and his frown fades a bit.
"Don't," he says, adding, "Just leave it alone," as he holds his hand out to you. You place your own in it and he squeezes softly, before leaning forward and kissing your palm. He presses his next kiss to your wrist and then reels you in, sliding his hands into the back pockets of your trousers and kissing your forehead, just above your eyebrow.
"Alright," you nod, and deliberately press both hands to the small of his back and shift your head to kiss him properly. "D'you think they'll be gone long enough for anything interesting?"
"Doubt it," he frowns, glancing over your shoulder at the door. "Better not risk it, eh? Tonight?"
"James is getting suspicious," you say, a bit nervously.
"Don't care," he shrugs, and he makes everything sound so intoxicatingly simple.
"Alright," you say. "Tonight, then. When the others are in bed."
"Brilliant," he grins, and wraps his arms around your neck, pressing another kiss to your mouth. His tongue darts over your lower lip and you meet it with your own, drawing him into a more heated embrace.
"All those things," you whisper into the hot skin of his neck, "All those things you promised to do..."
"Mmm-hmm?" he purrs, nuzzling against your hair.
"Did you mean it?"
"Every word," he swears.
Part 6 [ANGST warning]
PG13
This is a non-smutty chapter, but not the non-smutty chapter that I meant to write. This fic is trying to develop a plot. Weird.
~1500 words [this part]
JKR's, not mine.
The moon is unusually close this month, and you are exhausted by lunch time on Tuesday, even though the full is not until Wednesday night. You head to the dormitory as soon as classes finish on Tuesday afternoon, and curl up on top of your bedcovers, for a quick sleep. The next thing you are even half-aware of is Sirius wrestling with your covers as he pulls them up over you. It is dark and silent as he leans down to kiss your forehead, and you think you mumble a tired thank you before sleep reclaims you.
On Wednesday you feel even worse, and it obviously shows. Sirius hovers anxiously all day, and you try not to get frustrated, because while it is all very nice that he's concerned, you just want to sleep. All your energy is focused on staying awake with none left for reassuring him. James and Peter look at you sympathetically too, but only Sirius feels the need to stay close as though you're about to keel over at any minute. At lunch time, you evade everyone to slog your way back up to Gryffindor tower on your own, intent on getting at least a nap. Sirius wakes you forty-five minutes later, shaking you gently awake.
"Mmm. Hi," you say, scrubbing a hand over your face.
"Alright," he says, sitting down on the edge of your mattress. "Ten minutes 'til Transfiguration," he says and you groan, pushing yourself upright.
"Alright," you say around a yawn.
"I wish there was something I could do."
"Yeah," you nod, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Quick bump of speed?"
"What?" He looks at you blankly, and you think, not for the first time, that the muggle things he does and doesn't know about are weirdly sweet.
"Muggle thing. Drug," you explain, still a bit groggy, and lean forward to kiss him. "Mmm, close enough," you wink, and he laughs delightedly as you push him aside to stand up. "Come on, then."
"Alright," he says. "Just - " and he kisses you softly on the mouth, lips pressed firm and gentle against your own. "That's all," he says, stepping back before you can deepen the kiss and you think a bit wildly that he surprises you. So much. All the time.
Wednesday afternoon passes in a hazy blur, and then there is the full moon. It is immeasurably better with Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail, than it used to be, but you still don't enjoy it. You feel a little guilty about that, sometimes, that you can't fully join in their enthusiasm despite the soaring gratitude that still catches you unawares every now and then, a living, expanding warmth in your chest. Still, it is better, and Sirius waking you up the next morning with a long slow kiss is just great, thank you very much.
"Time is it?" you ask.
"About half five," he says, stroking his fingers over a long, thin scratch on your cheek.
"Where'd that come from?" you ask.
"Me, I think. Sorry."
"S'alright," you say, and reach up, capturing his hand to bring it down and kiss his fingers. "You should go," you tell him, unable to resist flicking your tongue over the tip of his fingers.
"Because that type of behaviour makes me very inclined to move, obviously," he jokes, and you suck one finger into your mouth, biting it gently. He pulls it back out, brushing it over your lower lip as he goes before pressing on the end of your nose. "Go back to sleep until Pomfrey gets here. I'll see you later."
"Alright," you nod, slumping back down into the covers to watch him go - a very lovely sight indeed. He waves over his shoulder as he leaves the room and you smile vaguely, snuggling down into the covers for a few more minutes, your mind full of Sirius' promises about evening entertainment. You are still tired, but the thought of some of the things he'd been promising and threatening to do to you sustain you all day until halfway through Potions class when Sirius manages to get himself a bloody detention with Snape, of all people.
Naturally with the sniping and arguing during, and the prerequisite duel-cum-brawl afterwards, the detention takes twice as long to complete as usual. By the time he gets back to the dormitory and the four of your have worked out how to get rid of the interesting combination of pink hair and yellow eyebrows (yeah, he protests, but you should see the state of Snape) it is after half eleven and you both reluctantly fall into your own beds. Over the sounds of James trailing from the bathroom to his bed and tripping over Peter's discarded shoes, you hear Sirius padding across the room to your bed.
"Where's my Charms text?" he asks, batting your curtains aside and kneeling on the edge of your bed.
"What? I don't have your bloody Charms book," you say and, quick as a flash, he tugs the bed curtains closed behind him and swoops in to kiss you swiftly.
"I know," he whispers against your mouth. "Sorry about the detention. I'll be good tomorrow."
"You'd better," you laugh, and shove him hard in the chest.
"Fuck!" he wails, grabbing at the curtains and pulling them half down as he falls onto the floor on his back. "You'll pay for that," he promises you, bounding to his feet.
"I bet I will," you grin, and you can't bring yourself to care that James is giving the two of you that look again, or that Peter is glaring.
"Night," Sirius calls softly from his own bed.
"Shut up," Peter calls back.
"Night, Padfoot," you whisper.
There is a snort of laughter from James' bed.
You still can't bring yourself to care
By the time Friday evening finally rolls around, you think you might actually be going mad with frustration. You have had to discount any thoughts you've ever entertained that you might be a little more restrained than him in your needs and wants. You are positively itching for him. You have to try so hard not to beam with delight when Sirius talks Peter, and a suspicious looking James, into doing a kitchen run. He heads over towards your bed as soon as they are gone and you stand up, take hold of his tie and tug him forward, intending to kiss him soundly.
"Don't do that," he says quietly, jerking back a little.
"What?" you ask, genuinely confused. It takes you a moment to realise that he can only really be talking about the tie thing, and that seems like such a weird objection considering some things you've done together.
"That. Don't do that again," he says again.
"Er - okay," you say, and you feel a bit strange. Now that he's drawn your attention to it, you can't quite keep your eyes off his tie. You have no particular desire to pull on it again, especially knowing that he doesn't like you to do it. You still can't stop looking at it though, and you can feel him watching you, can feel him getting a bit prickly. You reach for the knot on his tie, intending to undo it and get the problem out of the way altogether. Your eyes widen when he backs off a step, frowning at you.
"What are you doing?"
"I was going to take it off," you tell him and his frown fades a bit.
"Don't," he says, adding, "Just leave it alone," as he holds his hand out to you. You place your own in it and he squeezes softly, before leaning forward and kissing your palm. He presses his next kiss to your wrist and then reels you in, sliding his hands into the back pockets of your trousers and kissing your forehead, just above your eyebrow.
"Alright," you nod, and deliberately press both hands to the small of his back and shift your head to kiss him properly. "D'you think they'll be gone long enough for anything interesting?"
"Doubt it," he frowns, glancing over your shoulder at the door. "Better not risk it, eh? Tonight?"
"James is getting suspicious," you say, a bit nervously.
"Don't care," he shrugs, and he makes everything sound so intoxicatingly simple.
"Alright," you say. "Tonight, then. When the others are in bed."
"Brilliant," he grins, and wraps his arms around your neck, pressing another kiss to your mouth. His tongue darts over your lower lip and you meet it with your own, drawing him into a more heated embrace.
"All those things," you whisper into the hot skin of his neck, "All those things you promised to do..."
"Mmm-hmm?" he purrs, nuzzling against your hair.
"Did you mean it?"
"Every word," he swears.
Part 6 [ANGST warning]