Black Cherry Vanilla

Anime fangirling, or, why I often have nothing to say

Thu, 25 Jan 2007 16:30:43 GMT

Whenever I log onto this journal it has the link to my "yaoi portal" at the top, and I always, always misread it as "yaoi party." It makes me unreasonably happy.

Speaking of parties, I often feel like I have nothing worth saying about most of my anime/manga fandoms (Fruits Basket, Saiyuki, FMA and Wolf's Rain specifically, but I'm sure there are others as well) because I've arrived so late to this one. The discussion, the squeeing, the fanwanking and dot connecting has all happened already, and in fact has already become cliche. I might have a little to add in around the edges here and there, but for the most part it's been said and done and written. So I generally just keep it in my pants when I see something I loved, because god knows I myself have little patience for the crazy newbie "OH MY GOD, BRIAN AND JUSTIN JUST BROKE UP!!1! I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE IF THEY GET BACK TOGETHER OR NOT BUT FIRST I MUST POST A MILLION TIMES AND ASK FOR CAPS PLZ I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY BROKE UP!!1" posts.

Drabble: Alone

Fri, 19 Jan 2007 04:52:43 GMT

The next time Bill showed up in the middle of the day, Sirius was in a rotten mood since he'd run out of milk and had to drink his coffee black. "It's not my birthday again, is it? I know I complain about how long it's been since I've been outside, but I didn't think it was literally years."

Bill dropped a jug of milk on the counter and tugged lightly on Sirius's hair. "Even office drudges get lunch. If you'd rather be alone, I can bugger off."

"I'd never rather be alone. You should know that."

"Actually... I do."

Drabble: Recurring

Thu, 18 Jan 2007 03:40:56 GMT

Pairing: Hakkai/Gojyo
Rating: PG
Notes: You should probably read Nightmare first. It's just a drabble, so it'll only take a second.

"I think we should try it again."

"I thought we agreed to pretend that never happened."

"Yeah, we did. But the thing is, it was awful."

"Yes. Said awfulness being the chief reason why we decided -"

"But it's never been awful before. Even when it wasn't perfect it was pretty damn close. I can't have it getting around that I don't know what I'm doing."

"Do you actually think I'm going to -"

"Look, this time I swear it'll be better. Just lie there and let me do all the work."

"...I suppose I'm not doing anything tonight anyway..."

Drabble: Coming Home

Tue, 16 Jan 2007 02:14:52 GMT

When Henry thought of home, he always thought of Julian's house. The thick, colourful rugs, the expensive and beautiful furniture, the feeling of incredible warmth yet aloofness the entire house exuded. All of it was exactly perfect. Henry never felt more welcome or comfortable in a place than he did there, not in his childhood home or the apartment he lived in throughout college.

Sometimes when he was sick, as he lay in his bed alone and in pain, he would allow himself the luxury of fantasy: himself and Camilla entering Julian's house together. Coming home, once and for all.

Fic: Steady

Mon, 15 Jan 2007 07:43:29 GMT

Count: 1,075
Notes: Prequel to Bill/Sirius. More endless nattering.

"Did Mum ask you to come home for Christmas?" Charlie waited until Bill looked up at him to grab the last kalamarakia on the plate, earning him a glare and a playful jab from Bill's fork.

"No, not this year. I think she's sick of me saying no, to tell you the truth. Did she ask you?"

"Not yet. Dad's been hinting around at it, though. 'You know, your mother would really love it if you came home for Christmas this year,' 'we never see you anymore, you know we're just a portkey away,' that sort of thing."

Bill ran his hand through his loose hair, pushing most of it back over his shoulder. "Or they could always bring the whole family to visit you out at the Dragon Palace. Image that - Ginny, Ron, the twins, Mum and Dad - all of them squeezed into your tiny shack for a week or two. Someone will be murdered before they leave, you know."

"It's not a shack, as you well know. And stop calling it the Dragon Palace."

"It's not big enough for six or seven people, either. We have enough problems getting to sleep when it's just the two of us, and we're cosier than I'd usually like to get with Mum and Dad."

"I suppose this is your way of telling me I should go there, then?" Charlie drank the last of his ouzo and sat back in his chair, enjoying the restaurant's excellent view over the Saronic Gulf.

"If you like. It's always so loud and cramped in the house, and everyone wants you there to talk to..."

"Don't give me that. You know you love the attention. The first Christmas after you left school you're the one who told Ron and Ginny so many stories about the Egyptian curses that neither of them could sleep anywhere but with you. 'Oh, Bill's the only one who can protect us. What if the mummies try to come in through the chimney?' What a lot of rot. Honestly, Bill."

Bill laughed, again playing with his hair as he cast a glance at the next table to see if the two young ladies sitting there were noticing. They were, of course, as they always would be when Bill was around. Charlie crossed his arms and sighed.

Bill's glance was like a spotlight. "Last year I seem to recall someone going out at all hours to play quidditch with the twins. In fact, if I'm remembering correctly, you even took the blame when they broke two of the upstairs windows. I'm not the only one going out for brother of the year award, you know. We are family, after all. It's not that I don't love them, and love seeing them. It's just that it can be a bit much, sometimes, having everyone together."

"To say nothing of the lovely time you have in Egypt, and the hordes of women that will inevitably mourn your going, even just for a few days." Charlie eyed the young Greeks at the next table and shook his head.

"You might have a point there, as much as it pains me to admit it when you're being so hypocritical. Exactly how many people have you brought back to that shack of yours at the end of a long day of dragon tending?"

Charlie opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again, reconsidering.

"Exactly. We are neither of us saints, dear brother, but at least I'm willing to own up to it. Yes, I get lonely in Egypt. Maybe I'm not the sort of person who can be alone for very long without having some kind of arrangement. I try not to hurt anyone, and I think that's all anyone can ask of me." There was a slight edge to the last sentence, and Charlie acknowledged the point with a shrug.

"I don't think I'm anywhere near your level, but all right. You're just lucky Mum and Dad haven't started in on you about settling down yet. You're meant to be the steady eldest brother. All their hopes are pinned on you. They probably already have visions of grandchildren dancing in their heads..."

Bill grimaced and poured himself another drink. "I wish I could believe that you're off your tits, but I expect you're right. I'm not their only hope, though. Every once in a while Mum does ask me if you're seeing anyone. No doubt Mum's got girls in mind for both of us to meet if we do go home for a holiday."

They both shuddered and looked out over the water. The sun was just kissing the horizon, accentuating all the tiny fishing boats coming home for the evening.

Eventually Charlie broke the comfortable silence. "So you're not going home for Christmas, then?"

Bill chuckled, draining last of the ouzo. "No. If you go this year, I promise I'll go next year. Or maybe have them all to Egypt for a bit. Although summer might be better for that, now that I think of it."

Charlie's eyebrows shot up, shocked. "All of them in the tents?"

"There's nothing wrong with the tents. They're very warm and sand-proofed. You never complain when you come to visit."

Charlie rolled his eyes, tossing a bit of cash onto the table. "No more than you complain about the shack."

"I only said it smelled like dragon arse once. Once! You can't hold that against me. It does smell like dragon arse."

Bill added his half to Charlie's money and stood, stretching. "I quite liked this place. We should meet here again next week."

"I thought next week we were going back to that place in Rome with the waitress who fancies you."

"Right. We'll come here the week after, then. She's too lovely to ignore any longer, don't you think?"

"I think you are eminently predictable. I'll owl Mum, I suppose, and tell her to expect me this year. Don't think I'll forget about your promise for next year, either. You owe me."

Bill came round the table and put an arm over Charlie's shoulders. "Char, I'm the steady eldest brother. You know I'll honour my promises." He pressed his lips to Charlie's forehead and glanced around to make sure they were alone before Disapparating with a pop.

The last thing he heard was Charlie's voice. "You'd better. I won't hesitate to contaminate your tent with dragon arse, if need be."

Drabble: Her

Sat, 13 Jan 2007 05:43:38 GMT

For envinyatar15: a happy ending.

For years, no matter what else was going on, they've dropped everything to meet in Athens once a week. Of course with portkeys it doesn't really matter where they meet, but in the middle seemed better. Fairer, somehow. Once Bill moved to London, Charlie assumed they'd meet in Munich or Vienna, but Bill insisted that everything stay the same. It was an obvious clue that something had changed.

"Are you going to tell me her name?"

"What makes you so sure there's someone?"

"Bill, I've known you my whole life. You don't think I can tell when you're in love?"

Ficlet: Perfect Little World

Fri, 12 Jan 2007 05:04:08 GMT

The first time it snowed that year, Henry was sitting at the old rolltop desk at the end of the hall in the country house, occasionally looking up from the scattered pages in front of him as the flakes began to fall silently past the curtains. Everyone else was still asleep, and for a moment Henry felt like the only person in the world, watching the landscape slowly transform from the dawn shadows to a pristine white. Again and again he caught himself staring out the window and forced his eyes back to his neat pages of notes. For the first time in as long as he could remember he found it hard to concentrate on the rhythmic flow of translation; he was so used to the rest of the world falling away when he opened his books that he wondered if he were becoming ill.

It came as something of a shock when he realized he'd been sitting there for a length of time - long enough for a cigarette to burn into a long cylinder of ash - staring out the window without the slightest awareness of the passage of time. He'd lived with snow all his life, of course, and by his age he should have been used to it, but for some reason it never failed to inspire a childlike wonder in him. He thought of the Greek historian Herodotus, who had believed that snow was made up of white feathers, and had complained bitterly that nothing of the Northern lands could be discerned because of all the white feathers constantly blowing in one's face.

In Norse mythology the world began when the sea of flames, Muspellsheim, met Niflheim, the land of frost. The heat melted the snow and from the two was life begun. Henry prefers this origin story to many others he has read. The idea that life is made up of equal parts untamed heat and flame and the intricate, crystalline precision of snow and ice is something Henry finds unusually fitting. And more than that, compelling. The snow was perfect, in its way: silent, beautiful, pure, and cruel.

The Romans had called all of the Northern lands Ultima Thule, far off lands of strange things and stranger people. Watching the snow fall, Henry wondered if his life wasn't reaching its own map's boundaries; if he would soon become so completely part of the past that he will be unable to exist in the present. It would not be the worst thing.

It was only when he heard the unmistakable thump of Bunny's feet on the stairs that Henry recalled where he was and what he had been attempting to do. Of course, with the others up further attempts at translation would be impossible. Lighting another cigarette, he prepared for his prefect little world to be invaded.

Fic: Prodigal

Thu, 11 Jan 2007 04:13:01 GMT

Pairing: Bill/Sirius
Rating: G

It all started off so easily, too easily, considering what came later. Bill sat hesitantly in one of the uncomfortable Black family chairs, loosening his tie with his fingers as he wished like mad for something stronger than the pumpkin juice his father had served him. Sirius had leaned over from his own seat, hair long enough to tumble into his eyes as he smiled wearily at the eldest Weasley son, taking pity on him as much as anything.

"You hate it here, don't you?"

The question had surprised Bill, since they were in Sirius's own home, after all. This was long before he really understood how things were. "It could use a bit of a spit and polish, but I've no doubt that it'll be fine..." He trailed off uncertainly when Sirius burst out laughing.

"Actually, I meant London, though I'm sure you hate this house, too. Merlin knows I despise it, and I grew up here. Being back here is like a nightmare. Worse. I vowed once never to set foot... but here I am." He shrugged a touch helplessly and quickly knocked back the rest of his scotch.

"London's fine," Bill answered slowly. "I'm still getting settled in to my own flat -"

Sirius fumbled by his ankles before retrieving a nearly full bottle of scotch that he had obviously hidden away on the floor. "I noticed you weren't long for the Weasley bosom. Not quite up to living with the folks at your age, I take it?"

"No." The look of pure horror on Bill's face made Sirius snigger. Bill cast him a wry smile as he took the bottle from Sirius and poured a generous slug into his juice. "I lasted all of a day, I think. It was always different when I went back for a visit because I knew it'd only be temporary until I went home to Egypt. And my parents mean well, you know, they're quite good people, but I honestly couldn't take the idea of living with them again. It just wasn't on. I took the first flat I found, sight unseen."

It felt strange to admit these things to a near stranger, or even worse, one of his Dad's mates. Bill hadn't quite figured out all of the relationships between the Order members, but Black and Lupin certainly struck him as being closer to his father's age than his own. And yet there was an understanding air about the way Sirius leaned closer to him, even casually putting a hand on Bill's arm, which encouraged full disclosure.

The way Sirius nodded sympathetically after everything Bill said certainly didn't hurt, either. "Families are always difficult," he sighed, taking the bottle back from Bill and topping up his glass. "It's a wonder any of us get out with even a shred of sanity left. I guess that's why some of us have to run away." He gave Bill a pointed look.

Turning his glass in his hands, Bill shook his head. "I wasn't running away so much as running to. When I was sixteen or so I got a giant map of Egypt and put it right up over my bed, so I could lie awake at night and think about being there. When I fell asleep I'd almost always dream about dusty bazaars and camels and nights out in the desert, just me and the huge sky. When I got there it was all more or less as I'd pictured it, so I was never disillusioned. I never wanted to come home. I know my parents hate it that Charlie and I settled so far away, but I couldn't have imagined any other kind of life."

The hand was still on Bill's arm, touching him so lightly he wouldn't have even known it was there if he hadn't been able to see it. When Sirius spoke his voice was low. "But you came back anyway."

Bill glanced toward the doorway, where the voices of his parents and the general clatter of dinner dishes being stowed away were distinctly audible. "That I did."

Sirius leaned back in his chair, grinning hugely. "Two prodigal sons," he mused aloud.

"...Returning only for a short time, I hope," Bill added, sipping the last of his juice and glancing down toward the general area where the scotch bottle had disappeared to, hoping Sirius could take a hint.

"You think this will be over soon? That would be nice, wouldn't it?" He hefted up the bottle, refilling Bill's glass and then his own. "A toast to getting out of here, or at the very least finding something worth staying for."

"Cheers." Their eyes met and held, and Bill was reminded of the daytime sky over the Egyptian desert. It had always shocked him how different the day and night were there, how huge the night was but how tiny and feeble the sky was during the day. It was all sand and sun, gold and brown heat everywhere, and the beautiful clear blue sky he had known in England was always concealed by heat mirages and waves until it looked brittle and white. It was the same sky; you just couldn't see the blue from the ground because the environment obscured it. That's what looking into Sirius' eyes was like, and Bill wondered briefly if he'd ever get another chance to talk to the man alone, to see if a deep and fathomless blue lay beyond in him, too.

Fic: Present

Wed, 10 Jan 2007 00:36:28 GMT

Pairing: Bill/Sirius
Rating: PG
Notes: Now this? Is pure fluff.

They weren't much for proper parties, but nevertheless Bill felt like the day should be marked somehow. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that a celebration would be anything other than a charade, but birthdays only came up once a year, and the least he could do was get Sirius good and drunk.

He waited until after ten in the morning, knowing that the last thing Sirius would expect was for him to drop by Grimmauld Place when he was meant to be at work. Luck was on his side, since Sirius was still curled in bed in more or less the same position he had been when Bill left around four.

Carding his fingers through the thick hair, Bill shook him gently. "Wake up, birthday boy."

His only response was Sirius swatting feebly at his hands and trying to bury himself deeper in the bedclothes.

Bill grinned, pushing his face into the small opening in the blankets. "Sirius, it's your birthday. Don't you think you should get up? I've got something here for you from Harry and something from Hermione and my brother. I also have something for you from me, but in order for you to receive it, you need to get up." He yanked the covers off in one fluid motion, much to Sirius's vocal dismay.

"God, what time is it? Shouldn't you be at work?" Sirius rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the nearest pillow.

Bill sat back against the headboard, stretching his legs out in front of him. He let his gaze slip down the back of Sirius's head, bony shoulders, trim waist, small, perfect arse… he looked away when he felt his brain start to get fuzzy. Clearing his throat, Bill forced himself to focus on his head instead. "Why? Is your daytime lover going to be here soon? I'll go downstairs and wait for you to be done if you want. You and Snape won't need more than ten minutes, will you?"

Sirius waved one fist at him, futility trying to hit him without actually moving. "That's not even a little bit funny, you know."

"Maybe not, but you are very funny. Are you always like this first thing in the morning? It's probably a good thing that I don't spend the night. I'd never be able to take you seriously again."

"Har har," Sirius growled, lifting his head to glare at Bill. "You haven't answered my question. Why aren't you at work?"

"Did you miss the part about your birthday and the gifts? I thought that was worth a day off, especially since there'll probably be loads of people coming to celebrate tonight, so it'd be nice for us to spend some time together before then."

Sirius looked suspicious. "Loads of people, hmm? Sounds like your mother's planned something."

Bill sheepishly buried his face in his hand. "It's meant to be a surprise, but yes, she invited everyone to dinner tonight. It's supposed to be quite festive."

Sirius sighed, rolling fully onto his back and folding his arms behind his head. "She must feel pretty sorry for me."

Bill shrugged uncomfortably, putting the wrapped parcels down on the table beside the bed. "She'd do the exact same thing for Remus or Tonks."

"Then she feels sorry for them, too," Sirius shot back.

"Maybe," Bill admitted. "But you know she means well. It's just how she is. You might as well just let her throw you a party. It will be good having everyone together, anyway. I feel like I haven't seen any of the other Order members in ages."

"You're not the only one," Sirius muttered darkly, scowling up at the ceiling.

"There is a good side to all this that you are overlooking, however."

When Sirius looked over at him, Bill used his best come-on smile. "I did take the day off so we could spend some time together." He began undoing the clasps on his robe. "Just the two of us." The robe pooled around his waist as he leaned forward toward Sirius. "Here, alone." His body covering the other man, he pressed his lips against the roughness of his chin before whispering in his ear, "Whatever are we going to do to occupy ourselves all day?"

"I think there's a deck of cards downstairs," Sirius responded brightly, although the way his hands had clamped onto Bill's shoulders belied the light tone.

Bill cocked his head to the side. "I think exploding snap might be a little …immature for you. You are an entire year older today, you know, and old men need exercise."

"Exercise?" Sirius pretended to ponder this as his hands explored Bill's back. "I don't think there are many opportunities for exercise in this house, unless you want to try cleaning out more of the rooms."

Bill snorted, catching Sirius's lips in a hard kiss. "Cleaning, huh? Is that the best thing you can think of?"

"If I'm so old, I probably shouldn't push myself. I could break a hip if we tried anything more strenuous than cleaning. I don't want you to have to worry about hurting me or anyth—"

Bill held him down as he forced his tongue into Sirius's mouth, kissing his thoroughly as he glared into his eyes.

"Or you could just hold me down and fuck me hard," Sirius went on breathlessly, once his lips were relinquished.

"Consider it a birthday present."

Ficlet: Desire

Tue, 09 Jan 2007 07:00:06 GMT

Pairing: Bill/Sirius
Rating: PG-13
Notes: A rare interlude of shameless fluff.

Sirius liked to watch Bill sleep. His face relaxed, he looked younger and happier than Sirius would have believed otherwise. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he was an entire decade older than the other man – especially just after Bill had come in from another frustrating day stuck behind a desk. Those were the days that Sirius lay back and asked no questions, trusting Bill to control himself.

"You're staring at me." Even in the pitch black of the room Bill would know something like that.

"Just wondering if you were awake," Sirius lied, turning back to his side and staring out into the dark.

"I am now," Bill muttered, spooning behind him. "Your stare would wake anybody up. You might be able to turn that into a weapon."

Sirius chuckled, settling back into the embrace. "I'm not sure it would exactly stop any Death Eaters in their tracks, unless they thought I might try to have sex with them."

The tip of Bill's tongue traced delicately over his ear. "You're right. That'd scare anyone. I know you're willing to give up everything for the Order, but can you really imagine trying to come on to Crabbe or Jugson? Now granted, Lucius Malfoy would probably be a great shag, assuming he doesn't cut off your prick at some point during the proceedings, but I don't think you're in much of a position to demand Glenlivet when there's so much Springbank around."

Sirius reached back to grab Bill's arm, pulling it up to his mouth and copying the movements on his ear lightly onto the tips of Bill's fingers. "As much as I'd like to help out the Order, even I have limits. They wear those outfits for a reason, you know."

Bill's mouth slid down to the back of his neck, lightly grazing the skin with his teeth. "That's true. I think we have the obvious advantage there, to which we Weasleys make no small contribution, mind you. We're not the only ones, though -- we are entirely lucky to have such a beautiful piece such as yourself on our side."

Sirius stilled, allowing Bill's hand to slither out of his grasp. "Maybe once. Now I probably belong under one of those bedsheets, if you're judging by looks alone."

There was a low grunt from Bill, then the hand was on his chin, forcibly turning his face.
"Don't be daft. You haven't been taking the care you might over the past few months, but you're still relatively good looking. Besides which, I happen to have a thing for slim pillocks with manky hair, all right? Only generally not when they're too busy sobbing into the pillows to shag. That sort of thing inevitably turns a man off."

Sirius made himself smile, enjoying the wet warmth of Bill trailing kisses from his ear to his mouth. "Am I detecting a command in there, Mr. Weasley? Even a need, perhaps?"

Bill squeezed a bony hip, turning Sirius over for a real snog. "I choose to think of it as more of a desire."

Sun, 07 Jan 2007 04:07:48 GMT

001.	Beginnings.	002.	Middles.	003.	Ends.	004.	Insides.	005.	Outsides.
006.	Hours.	007.	Days.	008.	Weeks.	009.	Months.	010.	Years.
011.	Red.	012.	Orange.	013.	Yellow.	014.	Green.	015.	Blue.
016.	Purple.	017.	Brown.	018.	Black.	019.	White.	020.	Colourless.
021.	Friends.	022.	Enemies.	023.	Lovers.	024.	Family.	025.	Strangers.
026.	Teammates.	027.	Parents.	028.	Children.	029.	Birth.	030.	Death.
031.	Sunrise.	032.	Sunset.	033.	Too Much.	034.	Not Enough.	035.	Sixth Sense.
036.	Smell.	037.	Sound.	038.	Touch.	039.	Taste.	040.	Sight.
041.	Shapes.	042.	Triangle.	043.	Square.	044.	Circle.	045.	Moon.
046.	Star.	047.	Heart.	048.	Diamond.	049.	Club.	050.	Spade.
051.	Water.	052.	Fire.	053.	Earth.	054.	Air.	055.	Spirit.
056.	Breakfast.	057.	Lunch.	058.	Dinner.	059.	Food.	060.	Drink.
061.	Winter.	062.	Spring.	063.	Summer.	064.	Fall.	065.	Passing.
066.	Rain.	067.	Snow.	068.	Lightening.	069.	Thunder.	070.	Storm.
071.	Broken.	072.	Fixed.	073.	Light.	074.	Dark.	075.	Shade.
076.	Who?	077.	What?	078.	Where?	079.	When?	080.	Why?
081.	How?	082.	If.	083.	And.	084.	He.	085.	She.
086.	Choices.	087.	Life.	088.	School.	089.	Work.	090.	Home.
091.	Birthday.	092.	Christmas.	093.	Thanksgiving.	094.	Independence.	095.	New Year.
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

Drabble: Nightmare

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 16:18:20 GMT

Pairing: Hakkai/Gojyo
Rating: PG

"Well. That was…interesting." Gojyo looked over at Hakkai, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with his chin resting on his knees. For the first time, he couldn't meet his friend's eyes.

"Yes." Hakkai's voice was more of a croak, and he cleared his throat. "Very interesting. I think we should – "

"Pretend it didn't happen and never mention it again?" Gojyo was hopeful.

"God yes." Hakkai couldn't hide his relief. "If it had been even slightly… Right. Let's just pretend it was a dream. A bad dream."

"A nightmare," Gojyo muttered, getting back into his own bed.

Ficlet: What Women Want

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 19:37:15 GMT

Pairing: Charlie/Severus (very briefly)
Rating: PG-13
Count: 587
Notes: This is a bit crap, I have to admit. I had to rush the ending so I could get to work on time.

Luckily for Bill, it was his brother Charlie and not Fleur who caught him examining his reflection two days after getting out of St. Mungo's. He leaned in the doorway of the bathroom, watching Bill intently until their eyes met in the mirror.

"Careful there, big brother," Charlie said lightly, "I know you've been admiring my scars for ages, but you might want to mind how you get your own set. Going up against a werewolf might do the trick for making women swoon all over you, but it's still no match for a dragon. I'm afraid you'll never beat me this way."

Despite his best effort to look as if he was taking any of this seriously, Bill's lips quirked into a smile. "Little brother, you need to understand that I will always be tougher than you, scars or no scars. And the women have always swooned, I'll have you know. Just because you've been single for so long –"

Charlie threw his hands up conciliatorily. "Right you are. I didn't mean to impugn your raw animal magnetism." He paused as Bill started to laugh. "Furthermore, I'll have you know that being single for a long time is great for attracting women. Nothing like a bit of pity to make them hop into bed with you, is there?"

Bill shook his head slowly, flicking off the light and putting an arm around Charlie's shoulders as they moved off down the hall. "I wouldn't know. Pity has never exactly been what I'd want women to feel for me. But then, we've never liked the same sort of girls anyway, have we? You prefer the brunettes, if I recall correctly."

Charlie nodded absently, his mind stumbling over images of long black hair on the pillow beside him, cascading around him as he was fucked from behind. That sneering voice whispering all manner of filthy things in his ear… "Yes," he answered softly. "I've always like brunettes. Unfortunately, they never seem to like me quite as much."

Bill pursed his lips as if this were not exactly news. "You just need to adjust your tastes. Fleur has a lot of friends, you know. I wouldn't mind introducing you at all. In fact, there's this one named Elviria who's absolutely someone you should love. I'll set it all up, if you like."

"I…would like that, actually." Charlie couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "Maybe it's time for a fresh start for all of us."

Bill grinned hugely, punching his brother lightly on the arm. "Brilliant. Mum would love it if we could both be married by the end of the year."

Charlie's smile was tinged slightly with sadness as he felt the past begin to float away from him, dark nights evaporating into nothingness. "She would indeed. In fact, you might even be her favourite again for arranging everything."

Bill laughed, looping his arm back around Charlie's shoulders and leading him into the kitchen. "Might be her favourite? Charlie, I'll have you know that Mum and Dad have always loved me more. I'm the golden boy! I'm what the rest of you have been aspiring to since you were born! In fact, if I hadn't turned out so brilliantly, they wouldn't have bothered having other kids at all. Can you imagine if they'd just had Percy first? It'd be enough to put them off sex forever, I swear…"

Charlie leaned his head on his brother's arm and laughed with him, and this time there wasn't any sadness at all.

Drabble: Deep In

Mon, 01 Jan 2007 21:01:01 GMT

Some days, Hakkai thought of Gonou as a snake. A huge python, or a cobra perhaps, coiled up to make itself look insignificant, but still more dangerous than could be imagined. In fact, all the more dangerous because it was underestimated. So far, the camouflage had worked well – none of the others had any idea exactly how close Gonou often came to breaking through all of Hakkai's fragile defences. The few times he did come out should have given them warning enough, but in the end they never understood that Gonou was always there, waiting for his chance, deep in.

Ficlet: Happy

Mon, 01 Jan 2007 06:40:25 GMT

Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Notes: I set out to write fluffy PWP. There ended up being a lot less fluff (and a lot less porn).

"What about getting a curry tonight?" Sirius leaned against the sitting room's doorway, tendrils of steam floating past him from the bathroom. He absently towelled at his hair as he watched Remus mark his place in a book and look at him.

"Eventually we're going to have to buy food and actually cook. That's part of living on our own, you know, and there's no sense wasting money getting food out every night."

Sirius laughed, chucking the towel behind him in the general direction of the bathroom as he stalked toward Remus, bare feet leaving damp prints on the floor behind him. "We've every right to celebrate getting our place, Moony. Just think of eating out for a month or two as an extended celebration. Why do all that boring grown up stuff before we have to?"

"Sirius, you may have a stack of galleons to fall back on, but I really can't—" and then Sirius was on him, pushing him back against the wall and grinning as he leaned in for a kiss.

Sirius could feel the shape of Remus's next words against his lips, but as he deepened the kiss he could feel Remus giving up and beginning to kiss him back. Pleased by the ease of his victory, Sirius slid his hands under the faded white shirt that Remus always seemed to be wearing. As Remus deepened their kiss gently, Sirius let his fingers skim over the familiar dips and furrows of ribs and abdomen. He could feel Remus's shuddering breaths and the quick beat of his heart.

Without warning Sirius fell to his knees, ignoring the startled gasp from Remus and the tightening of hands on his forearms. He undid Remus's trousers and guided them slightly past the half hard cock. Licking his lips, he leaned forward and engulfed it wholly, delighting in the way it pulsed and hardened against his tongue.

He sucked eagerly, paying close attention to the sensitive area on the underside of the head and swirling his tongue along the slit. He knew Remus, and though he usually liked to draw these things out, tonight he was a man with a mission, and making Remus come hard and fast was not something he found difficult.

Afterward Sirius sat back on his heels, watching raptly as Remus tried to gather his scattered wits. The only time Sirius ever saw him relax – really and truly let himself go – was during sex, and Sirius thanked whatever was out there that he was able to glimpse what Remus was like without his guard up. He sighed as the young werewolf caught his breath and pulled up his trousers, his usual reserve returning full force.

"Would you like…something?" It never failed to amuse Sirius that even after all the time they'd spent in bed together, Remus still couldn't quite bring himself to form the words.

"Just dinner," he answered as he stood and wiped his mouth. "I missed lunch, after all."

He turned away before he could see Remus's glance sharpen into something suspicion. "You do always know how to get what you want, don't you?" The tone was light, but Sirius knew that Remus was fighting against a deep urge to dig at one of their constant sore spots.

"It's just dinner, Moony. My treat."

"You know that's not the point. I don't want to fight about this, but—"

"Then let's not, okay?" Sirius couldn't stop a hint of desperation from creeping into his voice. "Let's just go and get dinner and be a happy couple out having a curry, and all the unhappy couples will see us laughing together and think to themselves how lucky we are, and how they'd be willing to give up just about anything to be as happy."

Remus didn't look entirely convinced, but he reached for his cloak and slipped the house keys into the pocket with a jangle. "All right, Padfoot," he said softly. "We'll be a happy couple tonight."

Drabble: Smoke

Sun, 31 Dec 2006 07:51:00 GMT

Sex was the easiest means of escape. His past, present and future always became a blur of sensation, pleasure, and release. Those were the best times, and Gojyo always envied Goku for existing like that all the time. He pitied Hakkai, who would never allow himself to get lost in any way. Gojyo had tried to push him in the direction of a girl exactly once, and would probably never forget Hakkai's expression when he did so.

Sometimes at night he'd light a cigarette and watch as the smoke climbed toward the stars, wondering when forgiveness would ever be enough.

Drabble: Magic Fingers

Fri, 29 Dec 2006 16:29:46 GMT

Pairing: Hakkai/Gojyo
Rating: G

Hakkai reached take Gojyo’s hand, wincing as aching muscles refused to cooperate. Chi was draining, but fighting hand to hand always left him a stiff mess.

Gojyo sighed theatrically, pulling a chair out from the table and elbowing him into it. “You’re not exactly subtle about this anymore, are you?” he muttered, concentrating on rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.

“I’m pretty sure you ignore subtle,” Hakkai responded, slumping forward in ecstasy. “Besides, isn’t it more fun when I can move my arms?”

Gojyo grinned. “You’re right. You can have a massage any time you want, subtle or not.”

Drabble: Personal Lubricant

Fri, 29 Dec 2006 03:53:24 GMT

Pairing: Hakkai/Gojyo
Rating: PG-13

Notes: Very, very silly. Wikipedia really is the font of all knowledge.

"Gojyo…"

"It's great, isn't it? I can't believe I never thought of this before. Now we don't have to wait for a town that sells lube. It's lucky for us the damn monkey is always hungry."

"Gojyo, those are egg whites."

"Exactly. A natural lubricant. It's perfect. Cheap, too. Now turn over, I want to try it out."

"You're kidding, right? That's just sick and wrong."

"I know you just mispronounced 'amazing and brilliant.' Turn over."

"You are not putting that anywhere near my ass."

"In, not near. You won't even know—hey!

…Hakkai? Why did you lock the door?"

Drabble: All for one

Thu, 28 Dec 2006 16:23:07 GMT

Pairing: Hakkai/Gojyo
Rating: G
Notes: This is what happens when I try to write at work. It seems impossible to write porn in a drabble, but I'll give it a shot when I get home tonight.

Hakkai is the first to admit that he's the most fastidious of the lot. It's true that Sanzo is used to a certain level of tidiness, but he's never likely to clean up after himself, and certainly won't after anyone else. That’s Hakkai’s job, and it gives him a definite place within them.

Gojyo is different. He’d never wonder about his contributions to the group; never question his place among them. He’s there, and if that changed tomorrow he wouldn’t worry too much. As he sleeps beside him at night, Hakkai wonders if Gojyo would even miss him a little.

Drabble: In Medias Res

Thu, 28 Dec 2006 02:57:07 GMT

They all have nightly rituals. It depends on the rooming situation, but even if they're stranded in the Jeep it can be assured Hakkai will comb the countryside for a stream to wash in before he tries to sleep. Gojyo and Sanzo will smoke their last cigarettes of the night with an addict's grim remorse.

Only Goku's routine changed. At the beginning he simply passed out, an exhausted child. Later he would lay awake, watching the stars slide across the sky, one by one flaring off into oblivion. If each star is a person, he wonders which star is him.

Drabble: For Giving

Sun, 24 Dec 2006 04:45:09 GMT

Pairing: Hakkai/Gojyo
Rating: G

They're both careful not to mention it, but Gojyo is always bringing him little gifts. An apple, or a dusty old book, or even a tiny print in a broken frame. He never hands them directly to Hakkai, just leaves them tucked under his side of the bed. Hakkai waits until Gojyo goes out for the night before examining the modest offerings, turning them over in his hands in the long silent hours until Gojyo gets exhausted enough to come home. He's based so much of himself on always being the one to give that he's forgotten how to receive.

Repost (expanded) ficlet: Research

Fri, 22 Dec 2006 19:25:07 GMT

Pairing: Bill/Sirius
Rating: R

The trick, Bill keeps telling himself, is not to look like it mattered. Even when he was at Hogwarts he had known that the secret to being cool, despite the fact that he was Head Boy and always had good marks besides, was that he never seemed concerned. He was always so unruffled, in fact, that people just assumed things came naturally to him, without him having to work for anything. He kept hidden the effort he put into everything. The truth was that Bill always did his research. He would spend hours – days even – preparing for trivial matters most people wouldn't think twice about. It was the only way to make sure everything came out the way he wanted it to.

When he began watching Sirius it had mainly been just a bit of fun; a diversion from the never-ending loop of work and Order business. He mentally undressed him hundreds of times, imagining ribs and sharp bones and concave hollows that should have been flesh. He wondered what Sirius would sound like, at what point the rough baritone would give way to breathless pants and Snuffles' customary begging whine. He considered what the mass of dark hair would feel like wrapped around his finger, his leg, his cock, and what Sirius would look like with Bill's red hair spilling around his face, warming it like embers. He watched, and he waited. He had the time to do this right, after all.

It wasn't like Sirius was going anywhere, after all, and their shared desperation only made things more appealing. They both understood exactly what this was about.

The first time they had sex, Bill pretended to be drunk. He hadn't planned it that way, exactly, but it had seemed to make things easier at the time. It gave both of them an easy out the next morning, when Bill left for work before dawn rather than face an awkward breakfast with his mother and father looking on, wondering what he was still doing there.

It was better the second time. After dinner he had risen to go when Tonks did, hugging his mother and sliding on his leather coat. He felt the light touch of a hand on his elbow, and turned sharply to see Sirius looming in the darkness of the entryway. After a second, Bill had nodded before he slipped out the door.

He went back later, once he was sure everyone would be asleep. Everyone but Sirius, of course, who was sitting naked on the edge of his bed, waiting.

"I wasn't sure you'd come back," he croaked, in that particularly broken voice. "I wasn't sure…"

"But I did," Bill smiles, pulling his shirt over his head to hide his face. Because the truth was he hadn't been sure, either.

Drabbles: Winter in Smallville (1-3)

Fri, 22 Dec 2006 05:33:02 GMT

Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG
Summary: Lex's first love, and his second.
Notes: Three drabbles, loosely connected but can stand alone.

I.
Even after months of living in Smallville, Lex still thought like a city person. When CNN reported the first blizzard of the year, he didn't think twice about grabbing his car keys. The mansion's driveway was clear, but the town's streets were still an impenetrable wall of snow that no sports car in the world could cut through. For the first time in his life, Lex had been let down by his one true love. Watching the snow fall silently onto the Porsche's windshield, Lex pinched the bridge of his nose and began to wonder if Hummers came in silver.

II.
By his second winter in Smallville, Lex thought he was prepared for anything winter could throw at him. He had learned that the plow crews would consistently leave the road in front of the Luthor mansion for last, a very obvious fuck you to him from Smallville public servants (though hardly the first, or last). He'd be damned if he would hire a private firm to clear the roads. He paid his taxes, after all.

He sighed as he pulled open the door of the Hummer. One of these days he'd really have to look into doing something with teleporting.

III.
"It's snowing." Clark grimaced as he watched the news. "We're supposed to get eighteen inches tonight."

Lex grinned with obvious satisfaction. "The roads will be treacherous."

"Does this mean I have to listen to you bitch about the Hummer some more?"

"…No."

Clark rolled his eyes, settling back into bed. "No? Every time you drive it all you do is complain."

"I'm not planning on driving it this year, actually."

"But the snow –"

"My roads will be clear in the morning. It's one of the perks of having a loving alien boyfriend."

"Do I even get a choice?"

"Nope."

Fic: Desperate Times

Wed, 20 Dec 2006 18:06:31 GMT

Title: Desperate Times
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Bill/Sirius
Count: 1,216
Warnings: Bad sex and general unhappiness
Notes: when envinyatar15 and fort_army asked for Bill/Sirius, they probably didn't mean this.

Sirius kept his bedroom furnishings sparse. He had told Bill once, before everything, that his mother had long ago gotten rid of anything personal he had left there before he'd moved out. Since his return he'd emptied the room out even more, hating the memories the familiar furniture always conjured up. Hating feeling like a prisoner in his own home again, and knowing that it was real.

Bill understood some of that, of course. It was true that he had been running to something when he had left home, instead of just away from something, but he had still been running. That was the first bond between them, and if either of them had been paying attention it might have given them pause. People who run, after all, are not always stable enough to build a foundation on.

Everything in the room now had been collected haphazardly from all other parts of the house. The double bed had once belonged in one of the lesser guest rooms, used only when distant, poorer relatives came to visit. It was currently wedged into the corner furthest from the door, looking as if a herd of Hippogriffs had recently stampeded over it. The sheets were musty and ragged, not that Sirius seemed to notice or care. Near the foot of the bed sat an empty wardrobe, introduced to the room by Remus in a futile attempt to make Sirius pick his dirty clothes up off the floor. The only other thing in the room, the nightstand, always had at least one empty whisky bottle rattling around on it, and on special occasions even a dirty glass or two.

He couldn't stand to be in the room when he was awake. It was dreary, dirty and empty, and reminded him too much of his current existence. Despite hating the room, he did look forward to using it: falling asleep – or, more accurately, passing out – had become his favourite part of each day. Sometimes he thought that if he hadn't brought Bill up there when he had, he would've committed suicide in those first desolate months.

Some days it was bad indeed, but some days it was a little bit better. Those were mostly the days that he and Remus would drink and talk about old times until neither one of them could walk a straight line to save his life. They were both lonely, and sometimes it was enough just to be lonely together. Until Remus left on yet another of Dumbledore's errands, and took his memories and laughter with him.

So Sirius took what he could get. It had started out drunkenly, as these things do, though Sirius would always suspect that neither he nor Bill had been half as drunk as they were pretending to be. He had been watching Bill watch him for over a week before they were alone together, up late finishing a bottle of wine that Bill had brought to dinner.

Sirius had yawned, pushing himself away from the table with careful casualness. "I'm going to bed. Are you going to stay here tonight or try to find your way home?"

Bill had smiled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Your sofa is about as comfortable as my bed, I'm sorry to say. I'll likely just sleep here. At least I know Mum will get me up with a pepper up potion in the morning, no matter how hung over I might be. At home I'll be left to my own devices."

Sirius had nodded. "In that case, you might as well come upstairs and sleep in a proper bed."

He had looked Bill straight in the eye as he said it, and Bill had gotten up and followed him up the stairs without another word.

He pinned Bill to the wall, lips and teeth moving fiercely over Bill's neck as his hands tore at his collar. Sirius pulled on the cloth until the buttons danced across the floor, revealing ghost white skin and dusky nipples. Wiry muscles quivered slightly under his touch as Sirius moved down Bill's chest, mouthing at anything he could reach. Broad hands sprinkled with red hair settled on his shoulders, guiding him down unmistakably.

Sirius quirked a grin before obligingly falling to his knees. After more than a decade without getting laid he wasn't about to play dominance games with Bill now. He leaned his forehead against Bill's stomach while jerking briskly at the dragonhide belt. Bill's hands moved to cup the back of his head, stroked roughly through his dark hair, wrapping it around long fingers until it felt like it would tear out.

He yanked open Bill's fly, using his thumb to trace languid figure eights on the hardening cock beneath the thin cotton trousers. He remembered Harry once describing Bill wrapped in leather and dragonhide, and his own dick pulsed at the image. It was a shame how time changed things.

He took Bill into his mouth unhurriedly, easing the length past his tongue. It had been a very, very long time since he had done this; choking suddenly seemed like a particularly likely possibility. Somehow Sirius doubted that Bill would appreciate that much – though he probably appreciated the accidental swipes of teeth even less. Sirius's suspicions were confirmed when Bill's hands abruptly clenched in his hair, then pushed his head gently away.

Sirius wiped his mouth and stood, yanking his shirt off over his head as he followed Bill to the bed. He had just started to unbutton his trousers when Bill's hands found his shoulders again, pushing him down across filthy sheets. The trousers were shoved down to his knees and he was turned onto his stomach.

'Do you have…?"

Sirius rose to his knees, cradling his head in his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Nightstand. In the drawer."

His teeth gritted as long, thin fingers entered him, prodding indelicately for a few seconds before being snatched away and replaced by something much bigger. There was no warning, just white burning as Bill entered him slowly. It increased in intensity until Sirius couldn't choke back a moan, his body tensing uncontrollably around Bill in pain.

Bill paused for a moment, his gulping breaths hissing past Sirius's ear. Then he resumed pressing forward until he was fully sheathed. One slippery hand snaked out to engulf Sirius's half-hard prick, stroking it to erection as Bill began to thrust. The pain in his arse eased slightly, settling into discomfort. After only a minute or so Sirius felt the pressure in his balls beginning to build. He had a second of terror and shame before he was coming hard, body pulsing in muted pleasure. Bill had to push him forward as his leg muscles relaxed, continuing to thrust as Sirius went limp around him. He finally came with a grunt, his hands clutching Sirius's shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. Finally he pulled out and rolled over.

Sirius flipped over onto his back, moving carefully to the other side of the bed. Bill didn't touch him, but after a few minutes he was aware of the other man's breath levelling out and deepening as he settled into sleep. He concentrated on the strange sound of another person in his bed, and at some point managed to fall asleep himself.

Ficlet: Research

Wed, 20 Dec 2006 00:13:02 GMT

Pairing: Bill/Sirius
Rating: R
Count: 239
Notes: This is really incomplete on its own, but serves as a window into Bill's POV for the upcoming Bill/Sirius fic.

The trick, Bill keeps telling himself, is not to look like it mattered. Even when he was at Hogwarts he had known that the secret to being cool, despite the fact that he was Head Boy and always had good marks besides, was that he never seemed concerned. He was always so unruffled, in fact, that people just assumed things came naturally to him, without him having to work for anything. He kept hidden the effort he put into everything. The truth was that Bill always did his research. He would spend hours – days even – preparing for trivial matters most people wouldn't think twice about. It was the only way to make sure everything came out the way he wanted it to.

When he began watching Sirius it had mainly been just a bit of fun; a diversion from the never-ending loop of work and Order business. He mentally undressed him hundreds of times, imagining ribs and sharp bones and concave hollows that should have been flesh. He wondered what Sirius would sound like, at what point the rough baritone would give way to breathless pants and Snuffles' customary begging whine. He considered what the mass of dark hair would feel like wrapped around his finger, his leg, his cock, and what Sirius would look like with Bill's red hair spilling around his face, warming it like embers. He watched, and he waited. He had the time to do this right, after all.

It wasn't like Sirius was going anywhere.