brownleaves

“and the ponytail?” sokka laughs. “you were such a freak back then!”

zuko smiles. “it was pretty bad.”

sokka looks up with a dubious but fond expression. “and to think…” he says, “I used to have the biggest crush on you.”

zuko’s eyes widen, and lightning strikes the sky behind him. “used?”

sokka sits up, frowning at him. “you didn’t know?” he puts his hand behind his head. “man, I thought I was so obvious. think I lost every sparring match we had because I couldn’t focus.”

zuko still looks shocked, head close to sokka’s as the latter laughs. “ha! good thing we’re just friends now. I can actually beat you.”

sokka then pushes himself to his feet. “anyway, I think it’s time we head back. if we don’t help aang with dinner we’ll be stuck eating branches.

March 6 Prompt: Whimper. Word count: 917. @wolfstarmicrofic

CW: NSFW/Sexual Content

Sirius loved the sounds Remus made.

He loved the sound of the surprised little breath that escaped as Sirius snuck up behind him, doing the washing up, and started trailing kisses down his neck. Each one lingering a little longer, each one a little less soft; morphing into love bites by the time he reached the delicate spot where neck met shoulder.

And while it was loud, he liked the sound of the dishes clattering back into the sink still dirty, mingled with Remus’ breath hitching as Sirius distracted him further, hands roaming his stomach, his chest; lips still diligently working the sensitive skin on the side of his neck.

He adored the little gasp for air Remus made when Sirius spun him around to kiss him properly, deeply; back now firmly pressed against the kitchen sink.

Adored, even more, the small happy sounds Remus made as their lips met, sounds Sirius swallowed whole, too precious to be released to the cold air of the kitchen.

A hungry groan tickled his ears as he unceremoniously dropped to his knees. Its mingled pitch of want, anticipation and desire sent shivers through his body.

Unsatisfied,

I swallow my pride

I beg you, dear.

@wolfstarmicrofic 

“I’m almost done with the porch,” Sirius said, leaning in to press a lazy kiss into Remus’ hair. “Gonna start your greenhouse in a bit.”

Remus hummed, lowering his book and glancing over the top of the page. He smiled, reaching up to wipe a streak of dirt from Sirius’ jaw. “Need any help, love?”

“Nah, ’tis a surprise. Enjoy your book...it’ll only take about an hour. You’re going to be so impressed.” He winked, caught Remus’ hand, kissed his palm and strode out the back door.

Remus smirked, curling deeper into the armchair, appreciating Sirius’ rather lovely retreating form…until

“Twenty-eight!” George’s voice rang out from the couch, where he and Fred were sprawled, parchment between them as they planned something undoubtedly illegal for the upcoming school year.

On the rug, Ron groaned, not even pretending to touch his homework. “Oh, brilliant. I said twenty-seven. Just my luck, innit?”

“Pathetic,” Fred scoffed. “Amateur, brother o’ mine. I went with fifty-nine. Go big or go home.”

“Fifty-five,” Hermione said calmly, not looking up from her neatly arranged summer homework on the coffee table.

Harry, lying on his stomach beside her, quill tapping his chin, said, “I’m sticking with sixty-four.” 

Remus frowned.

They’d been at this for nearly an hour now. At first he had ignored it, assuming it was one of those strange summer games children invented. But now every so often one of them would blurt out a number with alarming urgency, and every single time Sirius happened to be somewhere nearby.

Sirius was having an off day today and had decided to do a little mending around the cottage. but in practice this meant he spent half his time wandering back into the cottage for supplies and emerging with things Remus was fairly sure had no business being used.

In the last hour alone he had come in for twine, a golden tray, one of Molly’s old mixing bowls, a hand mirror, and, for reasons unknown, a spoon. Remus adored it though, because he got to kiss his boyfriend everytime he passed by. 

The counting was probably nothing, Remus decided and went back to reading. 

Almost another hour later, after a lot more numbers had been shouted, Remus decided to get to the bottom of it. 

“Sixty three!” Ron shouted far too loudly for someone who apparently had lost, from whatever game they were playing..

Fred rolled his eyes. “That’s not how this works, Ronald.”

“Oh shut up, I’m tracking the score now.”

“Almost” Harry was grinning to himself. Hermione had, rather suspiciously, stopped reading altogether. The twins were peering over the back of the couch toward the open back door, intensely.

Remus lowered his book. “Alright, what are you lot doing?” His curiosity was now impossible to ignore. 

No one volunteered an explanation. Too lost in whatever was happening

Then Sirius came in again, streaked with dirt, a smudge of green across one cheek, and headed straight for the kitchen, but not before squeezing the back of Remus’ neck and pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“Yesssss!” Harry pumped his fist. Hermione glared at him. 

“Harry?” Remus started, but before Harry could reply Sirius ruffled his hair then blew him a ridiculous little kiss before disappearing again.

“Aaaaannd Time!” Harry announced, sitting up fast . “Two hours. Final count: Sixty Six.”

There was immediate uproar.

“What?” George squawked.

“No, no, no, that’s absurd,” Fred said, throwing his hands up. “Sixty-six?”

Hermione shut her book with a snap. “That is wildly unfair. Harry lives here. He had an advantage.”

Ron, already digging into his pockets with a look of deep suffering, nodded. “Yeah. You should’ve been disqualified from the start.”

Harry said smugly, holding out his hand.. “You’re all  just sore losers.”

With much grumbling, Ron surrendered four Chocolate Frogs.

Fred slapped down two Fizzing Whizzbees.

George contributed a crumpled bag of Acid Pops, muttering darkly about corruption.

Hermione placed one packet of sugar quills in Harry’s palm and said, “This was poorly regulated from the beginning.”

Remus stared at the pile of sweets now accumulating in front of Harry.

Then finally, because he could not bear it any longer, he asked, “Would someone mind telling me what, exactly, you’ve all been betting on?”

Harry looked instantly sheepish. Ron looked delighted to expose him.

Fred and George both turned toward Remus at once, mouths already opening.. But before anyone could answer, the back door swung open again.

Sirius stepped in and crossed straight to Remus, bent down, and kissed his cheek. “Babe,” he said, as if this were the most natural thing in the world, “come see. I finished the new enchanted sprinkler system and only got moderately attacked by the hose.”

Remus looked from Sirius, to the children, to Harry’s heap of sweets. Understanding dawned.

“Oh my god,” he said, already laughing. “You were counting how many times he’s kissed me.”

“Yep! Sixty-seven times in two hours. Pads has no self-control whatsoever.”

“How long have you and Moony been together?” Harry asked quietly, late one summer evening when he and Sirius were sitting on the floor of the parlour, old polaroids scattered in front of them and a lingering warmth in the air.

Sirius held one in his hand, the date March 1976 printed across the bottom in his careful hand writing. In the photo a much younger Remus was sitting on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common rooms, a book in hand and Sirius’s head in his lap. He carded his fingers through Sirius’s hair while the other boy slept with an arm thrown over his face, and when Remus looked up from his book a warm smile spread across his face and he waved in greeting.

And when a kid would assert something incorrect In class, he wouldn't tell them they were wrong, he would help lead them to the right answer and then when they admitted/ accepted the new information, he'd say "now we're both right! Nice work!"

Fem wolfstar for Lesbian Visibility Week.

(Sirius has an aristocratic and elegant air despite herself, and hair that looks effortlesly classy)