I don’t ever want to be over Black Sails; I want to wallow in this beautiful sea of hope, and rage, and soul-crushing agony for the rest of my goddamn life.
andantegrazioso
Vienna |
dreamingofmidsummer
“why did they send you?” / ”perhaps my lack of education is showing” is a blessed interaction, i can’t believe they had a meet rude
Thomas: Are you the liaison sent by the Admiralty?
James: I am, my lord.
Thomas: [sign me the fuck up]
Hello. Could you please do a 6 for wolfstar? Thank you for all that you do. I appreciate it a lot.
((@shadowcoffinflame also asked “Maybe 6 for Wolfstar?”))
send me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a drabble
Remus sighed heavily, fingers pressed to the nagging headache at his temples. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
Sirius stared up at him. “How do you know I’m naked. I’m under the covers.”
“Your arse isn’t and there’s a mirror behind you.”
Sirius yelped and shifted the blankets over. Remus looked around the room trying to get a full grasp on the situation. He realized a few things almost immediately. First, what appeared to be all of Sirius’ clothes were in a solid block of ice in the middle of the room. Second, he now understood what Peter was doing with a Rubbermaid box full of water. Third, James was maxing out his cooling charms.
With another sigh, Remus dropped his bag onto the floor, got out of his shoes and sweater and climbed into his bed.
“What are you doing?!” Sirius asked. His voice was high with panic.
“I’m exhausted,” Remus said. “Stop being inconvenient.” He reached to Sirius and pressed his hand flat against his chest.
Sirius whimpered at the touch and made Remus want to pin him to the bed and take him apart one kiss at a time but…
He shoved Sirius out of his bed, “Yes, you can borrow my joggers. It’s not like you don’t steal them all the time anyway.” Remus rolled over and closed his eyes, wondering if he’d ever give in and tell Sirius how he felt.
It was an awful lot for our young days;
Is it love you want? ‘Cus it’s love you made.Novo Amor
ref.
I thought our love would be so beautiful,
Somehow we’d make the whole world bright.
I never knew that fear and hate could be so strong,
All they’d leave us were these whispers in the night.
But still my heart is saying, we were right.
"A happy ending was imperative. I shouldn’t have bothered otherwise. I was determined that in fiction anyway two men should fall in love and remain in it for the ever and ever that fiction allows, and in this sense Maurice and Alec still roam the greenwood."
— E. M. Forster, terminal notes on Maurice (via sofficisaffiche)
London beauty.
james/thomas, 57+74 :)
“Is that my shirt?/Of course I remembered!”
James traces the curve of Thomas’s jaw, fingertips lazy in their caress. His other hand slips down to brush across Thomas’s collarbone.
Thomas murmurs sleepily into his palm. Something that sounds vaguely and hopefully like “tea?”
James smiles, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
He rises from the bed and grabs the first item of clothing he spies, pulling the shirt over his head, letting it fall to his thighs as he makes his way to the kitchen.
By the time he returns with a mug of hot tea, Thomas has managed to sit halfway up in bed in an effort to be awake. His hair is delightfully tousled and he only makes it more so by scratching his fingers through it sleepily.
He smiles at the sight of James in the doorway.
“What is it?” James hands him the mug, sitting down beside him.
“Do you remember the first time you wore my shirt?” Thomas asks.
James pauses. Does he remember that? Is Thomas serious?
* * *
He’d been so intent on leaving before Thomas woke that first morning together. He’d gotten dressed and was creeping towards the door, clutching his boots when there had come a soft question behind him.
“Are you really leaving before breakfast?”
James turns back to find Thomas sitting up in bed, gazing at him with a disappointed expression.
“I know how busy you must be, my lord.” James offers futilely. “I didn’t want to disturb you further.”
“If it comes to that, you haven’t disturbed me at all.” Thomas’s mouth curves upward slightly. “Just one question then, before you go, lieutenant.”
James waits, heart thumping painfully in his chest.
“Is that my shirt?” Thomas asks curiously.
James stares down at himself and then sheepishly nods. “I just grabbed the first one I saw.”
“Come here.” Thomas reaches out a hand and half reluctantly, James lowers his boots to the floor and goes over to him.
Thomas takes him by the sleeves, fixing his cuffs, making James blush with the casual intimacy of the gesture. They had been in bed together, skin to skin and still, this is what makes him blush in the morning light after.
“Must you go?” Thomas whispers, his fingers stroking over James’s wrist.
“I suppose I could stay a little longer.” James confesses.
Thomas smiles, drawing him down by the sleeves to kiss him again.
* * *
Thomas is just sitting there in bed, smiling at the memory. If he hadn’t been holding tea, James would have thrown something at him for the sappiness of his expression.
“Of course I remembered.” James says.
He moves to straddle Thomas’s thighs, gently taking the tea from him and setting it aside as he does.
“I was drinking that.” Thomas complains.
“Too late.” James murmurs him. “You got me all nostalgic.” He sinks down between Thomas’s thighs, nuzzling at his cock.
“Nostalgia, is that what we’re calling it?” Thomas exhales as James licks down the full length of him.
“Mhm.” James says and takes him in his mouth.
* * *
Do you remember the first time you wore my shirt?
Flint stirs restlessly, again wondering at Thomas’s asking such a foolish question. Of course he remembers. He turns over in bed to tell Thomas this yet again.
But Thomas isn’t there. The bed beside him is empty and cool. These sheets have never smelled of Thomas’s scent. The shirt he’s wearing no longer does.
The sunlight spreading across the floor is dim. From the kitchen he can hear Miranda making tea.
Flint squeezes his eyes shut against the inevitable arrival of morning, willing himself to return to that dream world. But it’s too late. The phantom has faded and he’s alone.
WHO PERMITTED THIS excuse me this is illegal fuck you
i’m not a freak. that’s a horrible thing to say.
