The Days Are Long.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
In a newly started relationship, Wilfred Blair and Julian Godai don't spend nearly as much time together as they would like. At least, not enough time together without others around to spoil things.

So those little moments when they do, it's important to make things count, and Wilfred thinks the tea Julian has had isn't bad at all.

(Set in the Potterverse.)

Submitted: September 03, 2015

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Submitted: September 03, 2015

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THE DAYS ARE LONG.

 

The two Gryffindors walked along in relative silence, their footsteps painfully loud for ears that were trying to pick out a third pair resounding in the vacant corridor. Neither boy attempted conversation, Micah running over his lines in his head and Wilfred barely breathing, the redness to his face scarcely concealed by the darkness around them of the sleeping castle.

Finally, the redhead could take it no more.

"Micah?"

It seemed that the fourth year had been, in essence, expecting and waiting for this, as he didn't even stop walking. "Yes?" His head turned ever so slightly, just enough for his braid to swish and for Wilfred to be able to see the eyes that were fixed on him behind Micah's glasses. "You don't need my assistance in going from here, do you?" Wilfred asked, not quite keeping his tone completely casual and carefree. His Housemate's eyes sparkled, but it could have always just been a mere figment of Wilfred's imagination. "No. I'm fine from here on out," The younger Lion stated easily, continuing to walk while Wilfred continued to stand still there. "Okay - goodnight - sleep well, Micah!"

The silver-haired boy rose a hand in farewell, disappearing behind the sharp edge of a corner. Wilfred let out a sigh, throwing a hand into his hair in slight bewilderment - why was he so nervous?

"Is he gone?" A playful voice asked, somehow feeling like it was coming from everywhere. Wilfred glanced around himself, not quite sure in which direction he should look to address the speaker. "Yes. I sent him on his way." The redhead responded softly, feeling an electric shock startle some more straightness into his spine as he was hugged from behind, darker hands crisscrossing across his stomach, dirty dirty lips murmuring into his hair.

"Great."

A smile instantly lit up Wilfred's features, feeling Julian's fingertips digging into his side and the blasphemous mouth just brushing against the exposed flesh of his neck, an affectionate gesture as they embraced, alone in the hallway. "The day feels like it has gone on forever," He breathed out, angling his neck so that his soft hair wouldn't get in the way of Julian's light pepper of kisses. Julian sniggered, giving his sides a pinch. "Naughty naughty, Wilhelm. What would Morgan think if they heard you?" The Asian boy behind him teased, always too playful. Too slow.

Squirming, Wilfred turned around in Julian's arms, now coming face to face with the boy as the other one purposefully drew his upper limbs around him more tightly. Julian was taller than Wilfred, but the Gryffindor carried himself in a way that would quickly put this out of anyone's mind, usually. But not now. Around Julian, he changed. The boy pressed forwards, ensnaring Julian in an embrace and pressing his mouth hotly against Julian's, the kiss of greeting delivered with a mostly closed mouth, yet still fiery.

He felt Julian snicker against his lips and found the grin becoming infectious as his arms traveled the Hufflepuff's shoulders, settling with their foreheads together and smiling far too happily.

And in that moment, despite Wilfred being the kind of person to love far too easily, he would have honestly said the three little words - maybe four - but then Julian's hands were at his neck and he was pulling Wilfred in for a repeat, murmuring something that had them both grinning like the idiots they were, as nose met nose and breath met breath.

Julian tasted like tea. Wilfred suspected that he would probably taste similarly, but he couldn't shake it off; whatever tea the other boy had had was the best tea to ever be brewed. He felt Julian's hands rise slowly from his neck to his nape, tangling in his neat red hair and fingers knotting themselves in it, yanking. Wilfred jerked away, chin pointed upwards slightly, brow slightly knitted as they breathed jagged gasps, all sharp edges and warm vapour.

"Julian?" Wilfred named, heartbeat erratic, as usual, a mixture between adrenaline and sweet anticipation mixing with the blood in his veins. Julian puffed out a breath, voice far more even. "Yeah?"

"What tea did you have?"

There was a pause. He felt the fingers ease up in his hair and let his eyes return to Julian's face, mostly cast into shadow, the flames of a nearby torch casting slivers of light over his eyes that made Wilfred's chest constrict in a pleasantly painful sort of way. The Hufflepuff laughed in disbelief, the sound airy but still obnoxiously loud.

"That's what you're thinking about now?" Wilfred felt his face heat up, feeling foolish, drawing back into himself, small, but Julian wouldn't allow it. "Come on, I'm sure you can guess it," One of his slender hands came to rest on the underside of Wilfred's jaw, pressing in closer with enough force to ensure that they both staggered backwards in a way that would have made the best penguin jealous.

Neither could hold in their laughs at the ridiculousness of the action, but laughter always came so easy at times like these - just the slightest look, the slightest facial twitch could trigger a myriad of grins when it was just them two (and, often, even when it wasn't).

The Gryffindor's back hit against the solid, rough surface of the hallway's wall, the impact still awkwardly uncomfortable even through his jumper, and he went to complain but found - to his delight - the sounds sucked right out of him. His arms tightened around Julian, drawing in closer and encircling his neck to pull him in, tugging and pulling and yanking, because they had a few minutes to themselves and all he wanted was to make them count.

Searing hot fingers clasped him by the collar, tilting his face up and holding on with so much strength that the top button popped open, the rounded piece of plastic bouncing away, the only piece of evidence on the crime scene. Nothing that couldn't be fixed.

Some opportune stones jutted out of the wall, making Wilfred squirm, trying to wriggle away from them, pushing his back off it in a slight curve that was broad enough to let Julian wedge a hand there. His fingers burned through the two layers of fabric to dig into Wilfred's skin, easily bruised by the pressure, leaving marks of his fingerprints that would later lead to some thorough teasing but that Wilfred loved in that moment. One of his own hands drifted aimlessly up and down Julian's neck, trailing over warm flesh and taut muscle, like ghostly spiders, softly nesting in the dark mess of hair.

He couldn't help the slight trembling of his knees, nor the way his pulse skyrocketed. And he certainly couldn't help the little noises that the kiss tore out of him, until Julian pulled back, visibly satisfied by the sight before him of rumpled clothes, messy hair, unfocused eyes and gaping mouth gulping for air. Wilfred Blair had never looked this disheveled for anyone, and he supposed that was what pleased the taller boy. "So," Julian started, curling one finger in Wilfred's red hair casually. "Have you guessed what tea it was?"

Wilfred gulped down another lungful of air, like he'd just been drowning moments before, but then his lips split into something that could be easily considered as an idiotic beam, with something just shy of smugness lurking in the corners of the smile.

"Orange." 


© Copyright 2019 Willoughby Blair. All rights reserved.

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