gertrudeflint & lysrouge
Title: Cross-Purposes
Author: gertrudeflint
Word count: 190
Pairing: Percy/Bill
Theme: Because I can see your back is turning/If I could I'd stick the knife in - Tool, Crawl Away
Bill is sure Percy will listen to him. No matter what he said to Mum or Dad -- he'll listen to Bill. He always has.
So Bill sends the owl, without telling anyone, and grins when he gets a reply, and Apparates to London.
---
Percy is sure Bill will understand. Now he's back in England, he can see for himself how well the Ministry is handling matters, how wrong their parents are -- well, Bill isn't stupid. He was Head Boy too, after all.
So Percy replies, and that same night there's a knock on the door of his flat.
---
As soon as the door closes, Bill pushes Percy against it and kisses him hard.
It's been months. Far too long.
They'll remember this later: the few minutes when Bill's hands clutch Percy's shoulders and Percy rubs himself against Bill's thigh and their mouths lock together, starved and seeking, and they're both so sure everything is all right -- so certain --
Before they speak. Before a wall of words rises between them, growing from fond whispers to loud, angry disbelief.
---
"You'll be sorry."
"I already am," Bill answers, not looking back. And Disapparates.
Author: lysrouge
Title: Cambiata
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: ~1200
A/N: Thanks to actress_krissie and kaalee for the great beta jobs. This was a very fun piece to write and I enjoyed the hp_remix experience a lot. And I blame this on all the orchestral music I've been listening to lately.
Percy,
I’m back. Mum and Dad have no clue that I’m sending this, it’s for the best that they don’t. I think we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.
Bill
---
Bill,
I am most pleased to hear from you. I agree that Mum and Dad are best left in the dark. Drop in sometime soon. I have missed you.
Percy
---
Bill is certain he’ll get through to Percy where his parents seem to have failed. They’re great parents, but they don’t understand Percy. He doesn’t believe they ever have. He understands Percy like the others don’t, and knows he’ll listen.
When he gets the response he grins. “Score one,” he thinks then Apparates to London, just outside Percy’s flat. He raps lightly on the door and waits for Percy to answer.
Percy is thrilled that Bill is back in England. He’s certain that he will understand how wrong Molly and Arthur are about the Ministry. The two of them have always had a connection, made stronger by their shared accomplishment of making Head Boy. Percy is certain that this connection, their brotherhood, and their deeper understanding of each other will outweigh anything that their parents might have said.
Percy sends off his response to Bill and is startled, but pleased, to hear a knock on the door within the hour. He walks over and peeks out the peephole, the sensible thing to do, before opening the door and pulling Bill into a warm embrace.
“So good to see you,” he says. “Come in come in. No need to let all the air in.” He steps aside and Bill enters. Percy closes the door and within seconds Bill has him pressed against it. Bill’s lips mash Percy’s in a desperate kiss. The last time they saw each other it was Christmas, and that was months ago. It’s been too long and Bill doesn’t seem to want to waste a minute.
Percy lets out a moan as Bill’s tongue invades his mouth, a most appreciated gesture. Percy is certain that after this Bill will listen to his reasoning. They are after all, quite similar. Bill may sport long hair, and wear a fang in his ear, but he’s sensible on the inside, and that’s what counts. Percy is sensible throughout; he has to be working at the Ministry. He doesn’t understand how his father has kept his job for so long, though it’s evident why he hasn’t gotten a promotion. Percy has been rising through the ranks and loathe as he was to give up his cauldrons he now has a cushy office and someone else measures the cauldrons.
He wants to ask Bill if he’s proud of what he has become, if he’s proud of his little brother. The rest of their siblings don’t matter as they’re all brainwashed by that Potter kid. Percy warned Ron about him two years ago, but it’s obvious he didn’t listen.
Bill’s mouth insists that Percy stop thinking and just live and breathe and have fun for a moment. Percy listens, his brother has always been reasonable. He lets Bill’s tongue ply him like liquor, opening him up physically and emotionally, letting the real Percy break through, the one he strives to keep so neatly tucked away.
“Penelope is out for the night. She’s at her mother’s,” Percy whispers as Bill kisses along his jaw, his tongue tracing the sweet skin, with only a tinge of salt.
“Don’t you ever sweat?” Bill asks, knowing full well his own skin tastes as salty as the sea. He lets his tongue glide along the crook of Percy’s jaw, slipping behind his ear as he sucks on the lobe. His hands grip his hips, thin slender ones, Percy’s legs spread to let one of Bill’s between. Thigh to crotch contact is made and Percy rubs against him, moaning at the friction. His cock is hard and straining against the closure of his trousers.
“Only when I’m with you,” Percy murmurs after a pause, his breath quick and harsh and right in Bill’s ear.
Bill chuckles and takes Percy’s mouth again, his teeth scraping his lip, teeth clanking as he kisses Percy like an attention-starved child. He sucks Percy’s tongue into his mouth, letting his teeth lightly graze along it as his tongue strokes. He holds Percy by the shoulders as they grind together, mouths and hips in tandem.
Percy tastes of chicken and potatoes, a simple but dignified meal, one Bill is sure he eats on a daily basis. Percy was always the sensible one, and if this wasn’t right he would have stopped Bill ages ago, right? Bill scours Percy’s mouth with his own, determined to pick up every last bit of the lingering taste and replace it with himself.
Time seems almost stagnant, as though if Bill played Percy just right this moment could stretch on for all eternity. That Percy could be his forever. That if he accomplishes this, Percy will listen and come back to them, stop blindly following the Ministry, when war is upon them, like the waning moon was nearing new.
Running his fingers down Percy’s chest, Bill slowly disrobs him, letting his fingers graze the newly exposed, pale freckled skin. By time they are both disrobed, Percy is pliant beneath his fingers, being played like an instrument; a harp, and Bill is pulling all the right strings. Bill is certain that things will play out the way he envisions. Percy will listen, he is positive.
Fingers entwine and entangle in hair, short and curly, long and straight as lips press firm against each other. Hands quickly travel downward across jutting planes of flesh, into crooks between bones, dips and dives, swooping tongue and nipping teeth. A cacophony of limbs thump against the door, cock in mouth and moans into the night - all thought processes halted. Percy comes and Bill swallows, pleased to see that something about Percy is salty.
Bill delivers little nips and kisses to Percy’s shoulder as he turns him around, facing the door. He reaches down into his robes and grabs his wand, casting a lubrication charm before sliding into Percy. He’s as tight as their first time, though it’s no surprise considering how long it’s been. Percy clenches around him as he thrusts in and out, his hands running soothing circles across his shoulder blades.
They move together, slow and deliberate until neither can take it any longer and Bill’s tempo increases, his cock stroking his prostate with each thrust inward. Soft whispers float between them, rapidly becoming soft whimpers, low moans, and names repeated over and over again like rolling sounds of timpani.
Panting, Bill buries his face in Percy’s neck as he comes, muffling his voice in the now salty skin. Hands quietly roam along arms and sides as breath is collected in a measure of rest.
“I missed you,” Percy says. They talk and catch up, their voices playing off each other like frolicking flutes, while they lean against the door chest to back. As the conversation leads to its intended purpose, words become brassy and harsh. They push away from each other and clothing is tugged on, their words separating each other like a brick wall.
“You’ll be sorry,” Percy says, seething at Bill’s unexpected bout of stupidity.
“I already am,” Bill retorts. He doesn’t look back as he pushes past Percy, Apparating back to the Burrow, the door slamming in Percy’s face with the inevitability of the bass drum’s final resonating beat.
Author: gertrudeflint
Word count: 190
Pairing: Percy/Bill
Theme: Because I can see your back is turning/If I could I'd stick the knife in - Tool, Crawl Away
Bill is sure Percy will listen to him. No matter what he said to Mum or Dad -- he'll listen to Bill. He always has.
So Bill sends the owl, without telling anyone, and grins when he gets a reply, and Apparates to London.
---
Percy is sure Bill will understand. Now he's back in England, he can see for himself how well the Ministry is handling matters, how wrong their parents are -- well, Bill isn't stupid. He was Head Boy too, after all.
So Percy replies, and that same night there's a knock on the door of his flat.
---
As soon as the door closes, Bill pushes Percy against it and kisses him hard.
It's been months. Far too long.
They'll remember this later: the few minutes when Bill's hands clutch Percy's shoulders and Percy rubs himself against Bill's thigh and their mouths lock together, starved and seeking, and they're both so sure everything is all right -- so certain --
Before they speak. Before a wall of words rises between them, growing from fond whispers to loud, angry disbelief.
---
"You'll be sorry."
"I already am," Bill answers, not looking back. And Disapparates.
Author: lysrouge
Title: Cambiata
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: ~1200
A/N: Thanks to actress_krissie and kaalee for the great beta jobs. This was a very fun piece to write and I enjoyed the hp_remix experience a lot. And I blame this on all the orchestral music I've been listening to lately.
Percy,
I’m back. Mum and Dad have no clue that I’m sending this, it’s for the best that they don’t. I think we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.
Bill
---
Bill,
I am most pleased to hear from you. I agree that Mum and Dad are best left in the dark. Drop in sometime soon. I have missed you.
Percy
---
Bill is certain he’ll get through to Percy where his parents seem to have failed. They’re great parents, but they don’t understand Percy. He doesn’t believe they ever have. He understands Percy like the others don’t, and knows he’ll listen.
When he gets the response he grins. “Score one,” he thinks then Apparates to London, just outside Percy’s flat. He raps lightly on the door and waits for Percy to answer.
Percy is thrilled that Bill is back in England. He’s certain that he will understand how wrong Molly and Arthur are about the Ministry. The two of them have always had a connection, made stronger by their shared accomplishment of making Head Boy. Percy is certain that this connection, their brotherhood, and their deeper understanding of each other will outweigh anything that their parents might have said.
Percy sends off his response to Bill and is startled, but pleased, to hear a knock on the door within the hour. He walks over and peeks out the peephole, the sensible thing to do, before opening the door and pulling Bill into a warm embrace.
“So good to see you,” he says. “Come in come in. No need to let all the air in.” He steps aside and Bill enters. Percy closes the door and within seconds Bill has him pressed against it. Bill’s lips mash Percy’s in a desperate kiss. The last time they saw each other it was Christmas, and that was months ago. It’s been too long and Bill doesn’t seem to want to waste a minute.
Percy lets out a moan as Bill’s tongue invades his mouth, a most appreciated gesture. Percy is certain that after this Bill will listen to his reasoning. They are after all, quite similar. Bill may sport long hair, and wear a fang in his ear, but he’s sensible on the inside, and that’s what counts. Percy is sensible throughout; he has to be working at the Ministry. He doesn’t understand how his father has kept his job for so long, though it’s evident why he hasn’t gotten a promotion. Percy has been rising through the ranks and loathe as he was to give up his cauldrons he now has a cushy office and someone else measures the cauldrons.
He wants to ask Bill if he’s proud of what he has become, if he’s proud of his little brother. The rest of their siblings don’t matter as they’re all brainwashed by that Potter kid. Percy warned Ron about him two years ago, but it’s obvious he didn’t listen.
Bill’s mouth insists that Percy stop thinking and just live and breathe and have fun for a moment. Percy listens, his brother has always been reasonable. He lets Bill’s tongue ply him like liquor, opening him up physically and emotionally, letting the real Percy break through, the one he strives to keep so neatly tucked away.
“Penelope is out for the night. She’s at her mother’s,” Percy whispers as Bill kisses along his jaw, his tongue tracing the sweet skin, with only a tinge of salt.
“Don’t you ever sweat?” Bill asks, knowing full well his own skin tastes as salty as the sea. He lets his tongue glide along the crook of Percy’s jaw, slipping behind his ear as he sucks on the lobe. His hands grip his hips, thin slender ones, Percy’s legs spread to let one of Bill’s between. Thigh to crotch contact is made and Percy rubs against him, moaning at the friction. His cock is hard and straining against the closure of his trousers.
“Only when I’m with you,” Percy murmurs after a pause, his breath quick and harsh and right in Bill’s ear.
Bill chuckles and takes Percy’s mouth again, his teeth scraping his lip, teeth clanking as he kisses Percy like an attention-starved child. He sucks Percy’s tongue into his mouth, letting his teeth lightly graze along it as his tongue strokes. He holds Percy by the shoulders as they grind together, mouths and hips in tandem.
Percy tastes of chicken and potatoes, a simple but dignified meal, one Bill is sure he eats on a daily basis. Percy was always the sensible one, and if this wasn’t right he would have stopped Bill ages ago, right? Bill scours Percy’s mouth with his own, determined to pick up every last bit of the lingering taste and replace it with himself.
Time seems almost stagnant, as though if Bill played Percy just right this moment could stretch on for all eternity. That Percy could be his forever. That if he accomplishes this, Percy will listen and come back to them, stop blindly following the Ministry, when war is upon them, like the waning moon was nearing new.
Running his fingers down Percy’s chest, Bill slowly disrobs him, letting his fingers graze the newly exposed, pale freckled skin. By time they are both disrobed, Percy is pliant beneath his fingers, being played like an instrument; a harp, and Bill is pulling all the right strings. Bill is certain that things will play out the way he envisions. Percy will listen, he is positive.
Fingers entwine and entangle in hair, short and curly, long and straight as lips press firm against each other. Hands quickly travel downward across jutting planes of flesh, into crooks between bones, dips and dives, swooping tongue and nipping teeth. A cacophony of limbs thump against the door, cock in mouth and moans into the night - all thought processes halted. Percy comes and Bill swallows, pleased to see that something about Percy is salty.
Bill delivers little nips and kisses to Percy’s shoulder as he turns him around, facing the door. He reaches down into his robes and grabs his wand, casting a lubrication charm before sliding into Percy. He’s as tight as their first time, though it’s no surprise considering how long it’s been. Percy clenches around him as he thrusts in and out, his hands running soothing circles across his shoulder blades.
They move together, slow and deliberate until neither can take it any longer and Bill’s tempo increases, his cock stroking his prostate with each thrust inward. Soft whispers float between them, rapidly becoming soft whimpers, low moans, and names repeated over and over again like rolling sounds of timpani.
Panting, Bill buries his face in Percy’s neck as he comes, muffling his voice in the now salty skin. Hands quietly roam along arms and sides as breath is collected in a measure of rest.
“I missed you,” Percy says. They talk and catch up, their voices playing off each other like frolicking flutes, while they lean against the door chest to back. As the conversation leads to its intended purpose, words become brassy and harsh. They push away from each other and clothing is tugged on, their words separating each other like a brick wall.
“You’ll be sorry,” Percy says, seething at Bill’s unexpected bout of stupidity.
“I already am,” Bill retorts. He doesn’t look back as he pushes past Percy, Apparating back to the Burrow, the door slamming in Percy’s face with the inevitability of the bass drum’s final resonating beat.