#double fault

“Pads, you were supposed to wait for the signal! What the fuck happened?” James demanded. It was so rare that he got mad at him, that Sirius was struck dumb. 

“I…shit. I’m sorry, Prongs. I know I fucked it up,” he said, looking down. 

They’d set up this prank weeks ago, but then he and Remus got distracted by each other while waiting for the signal. He didn’t want to tell James that the particulars involved them pressed together in the broom closet rather than acting as a lookout while James cast the necessary spells.

James rolled his eyes. “You and Moony. It’s not even like it’s your fault or his. It’s a double fault.”

Sirius sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, Prongs…won’t happen again.” James still wouldn’t look at him. “I’ll do your detention instead, ok?”

James snorted. “You know McGonagall would never go for that.” But his face softened as he shook his head. “He better have been good if you left me hanging.”

Sirius’s cheeks flushed, thinking about Remus’s lips and hands on him. “You have no idea.”

Word count: 181

Rating: M

Prompt: Double fault from @wolfstarmicrofic

Word count: 285

Summary: Sirius tries to distract a stressed Remus with a friendly tennis match.

I am writing a fic for each of the prompts this month. You can read all of them here.

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Sirius watched in horror as the ball he had so carefully aimed for the other side of the tennis court went straight into the net.

Open-mouthed, he stood in shock as he watched the ball bounce up and down, his eyes following the movement until it settled a metre away from the net.

That morning, he had challenged his Olympic boyfriend to a friendly game of tennis. Remus was nothing but a ball of nerves ahead of his first match the next day and Sirius had dragged Remus out of the Olympic village to a quiet tennis court, hoping that he would be able to calm his usually composed boyfriend.

Though Sirius was no world-class athlete, and he knew that his Olympic boyfriend had spent decades perfecting the artform of tennis and made it look easy as he ran circles around other players all over the world, Sirius considered himself a half-decent athlete who would at least be able to hit the ball across the court, rather than straight into the net. He had not expected this.

“Come on, love, you can d…” called Remus from across the court.

“Remus, I swear to fucking God if the next words out of your mouth are ‘I can do this’, I will break every one of your rackets,” Sirius said, through gritted teeth.

Ignoring the stifled laugh from the other side of the court, Sirius took a ball out of his pocket, bounced it a few times, and braced himself. He threw the ball in the air, swung his arm up and over, and the ball made a satisfying thwack with his racket…

…straight into the net once more.

Julie Finlay in every episode 21/71

Okay, I won’t have time to write at ALL today, so I did my stuff last night/this morning.

Daily word count: 3534

Two sentences (okay it’s three because reasons):

“My brother can disapprove all he wants, but I wasn’t planning on silk screening a shirt with ‘I was fucked by Theodore Marchand’ and wearing it for my match tomorrow.”

Theo felt his lips twitch.

Finlay Friday