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Entry tags:
Drabblicious
Ugh, My laptop's right hinge is broken. *fumes* I think mom'll take it to be repaired tomorrow, so I probably won't be able to be online for a few days. So don't wonder if I'm not like, obsesively here XD
But how, how will I manage to be internet-less?! HOW?! *despairs*
Now, this are the drabbles I wrote tonight for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
queerditch_pub. This week's theme was Kinky, so they're all as smutty as I can get. *g*
Stale
Harry/Draco - Silence - 241 words
They stare at each other through the crowded room, playing with straws between their lips and never lifting their gaze from each other as the blinking lights change the colors of their hair, blond turns to purple turns to blue turns to ever deep red as the lips Harry wants to suck.
He walks to the bathroom after half an hour, and he only has to wait two minutes before Draco locks the door with a muttered ‘Alohomora,’ and the world trembles and shakes the moment they collide together, feverish and distant and violent in the only way they know how to be together.
They don’t emit a single sound as they fuck against a bathroom stall, nails digging into pale skin and Harry’s glasses on the floor next to them. They keep on staring into the other’s eyes, mouths touching but not quite kissing, just a sharing of stale air and alcoholic breath as they move together with frantic hands underneath heavy clothes (heavy desire). Harry comes silently, a never-uttered scream that Draco tries swallowing just then.
They leave, and not a word is said as Harry kisses him, and Draco Dissaparates in the middle of it, leaving him panting in the filthy room. Harry closes his eyes, and curses himself for being so weak.
(But then he remembers Draco’s fingertips on his nape, speaking in the way they don’t allow themselves to, and he runs after him once again).
Tease
Remus/Sirius - "This is a very improper thing to do in public" - 245 words
“This is a very improper thing to do in public,” Sirius reminds him almost playfully, as if the mere idea of being naughty, naughty little boys is what’s making his blood sing in his ears, instead of Remus’ hand dancing on his skin just below his navel, twining with the coarse hair there and the breath on his neck making Sirius shiver as Remus hums softly, and his hand goes lower as the rhythm of the sound increases in speed (the same as his breathing, the same as the heat in the room).
“Oh shush. You love it.” Remus puts his other hand to work, slipping just inside his waistline, and Sirius bites his lips as he’s mildly aware that the subtle invisibility charm on Remus’ hands won’t do any good if it appears Sirius’ clothes are moving on his own.
“You know me so very well, Moony.” Laughter, and Remus hugs him for a moment, still behind him, bites his earlobe, and Sirius knees suddenly want to give out (give in). Remus teases him, strokes once just to tickle his belly the next second, caresses and nips at his neck just to joke later, and Sirius stands by the corner of the Potter’s Christmas party with his pants half undone and his face as red as Lily’s hair, heartbeat out of control.
“You’re looking far to red, Padfoot. Want me to get you some ice?”
And that, that is the moment Sirius goes undone
Vintage
Remus/Sirius - Knee socks - 202 words
Remus puts his socks on as if they were made of silk, as if he were getting ready to put on his garters and paint his lips bright red just before slipping into those devilishly stunning high heels that only exist in Sirius’ imagination. He puts them on slowly, caressing the cotton between his fingers as he mutters the grocery list with the barest sliver of breath, and Sirius desperately wants to cover his neck with pearls from the thirties and slip a black feather into brown hair, wants to do something else than stare at him from his Gryffindor bed with none of his Gryffindor courage.
“You all right?” asks Remus when he sees his flustered face, and Sirius nods and laughs and fails at being brave as Remus leaves the room just ready to face the day.
He wanks desperately after that, arching into the mattress with his hands itching to draw a line up Remus’ calve in an invisible pantyhose like the ones in the forties and he wants, wants, wants, and then he’s coming and the world is white.
He steals a pair of Remus’ socks, later, and cajoles Remus into kissing him just to get it back.
But how, how will I manage to be internet-less?! HOW?! *despairs*
Now, this are the drabbles I wrote tonight for
queerditch_pub. This week's theme was Kinky, so they're all as smutty as I can get. *g*Stale
Harry/Draco - Silence - 241 words
They stare at each other through the crowded room, playing with straws between their lips and never lifting their gaze from each other as the blinking lights change the colors of their hair, blond turns to purple turns to blue turns to ever deep red as the lips Harry wants to suck.
He walks to the bathroom after half an hour, and he only has to wait two minutes before Draco locks the door with a muttered ‘Alohomora,’ and the world trembles and shakes the moment they collide together, feverish and distant and violent in the only way they know how to be together.
They don’t emit a single sound as they fuck against a bathroom stall, nails digging into pale skin and Harry’s glasses on the floor next to them. They keep on staring into the other’s eyes, mouths touching but not quite kissing, just a sharing of stale air and alcoholic breath as they move together with frantic hands underneath heavy clothes (heavy desire). Harry comes silently, a never-uttered scream that Draco tries swallowing just then.
They leave, and not a word is said as Harry kisses him, and Draco Dissaparates in the middle of it, leaving him panting in the filthy room. Harry closes his eyes, and curses himself for being so weak.
(But then he remembers Draco’s fingertips on his nape, speaking in the way they don’t allow themselves to, and he runs after him once again).
Tease
Remus/Sirius - "This is a very improper thing to do in public" - 245 words
“This is a very improper thing to do in public,” Sirius reminds him almost playfully, as if the mere idea of being naughty, naughty little boys is what’s making his blood sing in his ears, instead of Remus’ hand dancing on his skin just below his navel, twining with the coarse hair there and the breath on his neck making Sirius shiver as Remus hums softly, and his hand goes lower as the rhythm of the sound increases in speed (the same as his breathing, the same as the heat in the room).
“Oh shush. You love it.” Remus puts his other hand to work, slipping just inside his waistline, and Sirius bites his lips as he’s mildly aware that the subtle invisibility charm on Remus’ hands won’t do any good if it appears Sirius’ clothes are moving on his own.
“You know me so very well, Moony.” Laughter, and Remus hugs him for a moment, still behind him, bites his earlobe, and Sirius knees suddenly want to give out (give in). Remus teases him, strokes once just to tickle his belly the next second, caresses and nips at his neck just to joke later, and Sirius stands by the corner of the Potter’s Christmas party with his pants half undone and his face as red as Lily’s hair, heartbeat out of control.
“You’re looking far to red, Padfoot. Want me to get you some ice?”
And that, that is the moment Sirius goes undone
Vintage
Remus/Sirius - Knee socks - 202 words
Remus puts his socks on as if they were made of silk, as if he were getting ready to put on his garters and paint his lips bright red just before slipping into those devilishly stunning high heels that only exist in Sirius’ imagination. He puts them on slowly, caressing the cotton between his fingers as he mutters the grocery list with the barest sliver of breath, and Sirius desperately wants to cover his neck with pearls from the thirties and slip a black feather into brown hair, wants to do something else than stare at him from his Gryffindor bed with none of his Gryffindor courage.
“You all right?” asks Remus when he sees his flustered face, and Sirius nods and laughs and fails at being brave as Remus leaves the room just ready to face the day.
He wanks desperately after that, arching into the mattress with his hands itching to draw a line up Remus’ calve in an invisible pantyhose like the ones in the forties and he wants, wants, wants, and then he’s coming and the world is white.
He steals a pair of Remus’ socks, later, and cajoles Remus into kissing him just to get it back.