FA & MOIRE 7, 8, & 10; DARYN & EZRA 16 (I'm not sorry)
ALRIGHT HERE WE GO BITCH. Warning: This got so long.
âHow long has it been?â
Faolan looked up, eyeing his boyfriend curiously. He knew immediately what he was referring to, because his tone was lazy and content, but still he wondered why heâd ask the question when he knew the answer himself. Fa looked down again a moment later, carefully dicing carrots in the way Xander had showed him so he didnât slice his fingers off. He paused a moment, but it wasnât to think. âTwo years, four months andâŚâ Fa retrieved his phone from his pocket after wiping his hands, checking the date. ââŚsixteen days.â
The corner of Moireâs lips turned up in the way Fa loved, slow and easy, and in a moment he had closed the distance between them in the kitchen, his hand sliding along Moireâs neck to cup it as he grasped his chin gently with his other hand. âFeeling nostalgic, are we?â
Moireâs smirk widened but he said nothing, locking eyes with Faolan as he deliberately squared his shoulders, as if in playful defiance for a moment. Faâs body responded, straightening up to a fuller height before he leaned in to capture his boyfriendâs lips. He was soft at first, loving, but his hand drifted down to grip his waist firmly. He stopped though, amused as he felt Moireâs smile against his mouth. âTwo years, four months, and sixteen days since you said you would stay.â
Moire chuckled against him, and Fa pulled back to look at him. âWhat?â
âI was referring to how long itâs been since youâve given me a blowjob.â
Faolan grinned, his grip on his waist tighter as he leaned in to bite down on his bottom lip. âYou liar.âÂ
An afternoon of walking in and out of the Ministry building was what he was looking forward to, until his phone vibrated against his pocket, prompting him to take it out and answer it. A few workers eyed him curiously as he did, probably because phones werenât often used around here.
âI need you.â Moireâs voice, raspy and exhausted.
âIâll be right over.â No hesitation. There wasnât time for that. He was off in a moment, picking up his jacket and leaving without a word. This didnât happen oftenâhe never left home without confirming Moire wouldnât need him thereâbut his coworkers knew enough of his temperament not to argue with him when he was set on something. So he hurried out of the department, out of the Ministry building, and apparated out as soon as he was able to.Â
The charms in their flat allowed only Moire or Fa to apparate into it, which made the time lapse between his boyfriendâs call and his journey only a couple of minutes.Â
Moire was slumped on the couch, his hands covered in red chalk, and his cheek sporting a streak of it. He was staring dully at a canvas until Faolan settled himself at his side, looking slowly over to meet his gaze. Fa wrapped his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close, running his hand through his dark hair comfortingly and kissing the top of his head. Moire was only a little short of breath, but his despondence was concerning him.
âWhat happened?â
âAnother vision,â he replied bluntly, quietly. âIt was short, it wasnât⌠all that awful. ButâŚâ He nodded at the canvas, and Faolan looked across at it, narrowing his eyes at the face. It seemed to be the same man Moire always saw, and he knew because heâd drawn it after the first vision heâd had. It was sickeningly familiar to him now. Thick brows, a manic expression, drawn in black and red chalk.Â
âI shouldnât have interrupted your work, sorry,â Moire went on quickly, but a stern look from Fa silenced him. âI just⌠itâs bad enough, nightmarish enough, to have visions of him. The last thing I want is a physical reminder that it happened.â
âWeâll get rid of it,â he said at once. âBurn it. He wonât ever hurt you.â Faâs hand moved down the length of the Hufflepuffâs arm, gripping his wrist firmly before threading his fingers through his. âIâll make damn sure of it.â
âI went to the doctor today,â Moire announced, but his tone was quite grave for being conversational.Â
âI know you did. You had an appointment,â Faolan nodded, looking at him expectantly. Usually Moire wouldnât bring that up unless something significant had happened while he was there. And it was usually just a check-up, a necessity when one was a cripple.Â
Moire paused, then suddenly turned into the kitchen, apparently making himself busy with making tea. Faolan watched, itching with impatience, knowing that Moire was just buying time for himself. What didnât he want to say? The only answers the man held back from him were the ones he thought might disturb Fa in some way, though they rarely did. He was taking his sweet time too, the water taking awhile to boil, and Faolan got up from the couch to cross the room and approach his boyfriend.
âMoirean,â he said, his hands, sliding up the Hufflepuffâs forearms, turning him until he was facing him, though he refused to look at him. âLook at me.â The demand had the desired effect, and Moire met his eyes almost immediately. âJust tell me.â
ââŚHe said I might have to get a prosthetic soon,â he confessed slowly. âJust using the cane, itâs not enough anymore. And things obviously arenât getting better for my leg, and the only alternative is for it to get worse.â
Faolan stayed quiet, searching his eyes carefully. That was a serious matter, Fa knew it was, but it was also something heâd been sort of aware of ever since Moire had told him about the condition of his leg when theyâd first met. But it wasnât what he was worried about. âAnd?â
âIf I do⌠if things with it just keep getting worse, then that means you and I⌠it wonât be the same anymore, with us. The sex, theââ
Faolan cut him off with a kiss, simultaneously demanding him to be silent and encouraging him to sink into the warmth. There was a long moment, but then he did, and his submission to the gentle gesture comforted Fa more than anything. He pulled back, looking his love in the eye. âI just want this.â
It had happened and Ezra wasnât entirely sure it was completely a mistake. He had no idea when their relationship had developed beyond Ezra being forced into submitting to being Darynâs pet, and essentially assistant in bloody murder, but it definitely had in the past weeks. It had started when Ezra had become numb to it all, and from there their little sessions had become startlingly domestic.Â
There was something about it after that though, that drew him to Daryn. The Slytherin had always teased him in one way or another, and really it was incredibly obvious that Daryn was attracted to him. He had absolutely no filter when it came to his emotions, so Ezra could very clearly feel everything the man felt when he was anywhere in the vicinity. Maybe that was what had triggered it, Ezra was feeding on the manâs attraction and desire, and things had snowballed from there.
He hadnât quite expected to be okay with it though. Rolling out of bed unexpectedly late in the morning, he pulled on his sweatpants and found Daryn in the kitchen. He had to chuckle at how domestic it was, to see Daryn cooking eggs more or less with success. Normally Ezra did this in the morning because he was better at cooking breakfastâbeing a morning personâbut apparently after last nightâs activities Daryn had been rather inspired. Pure, unadulterated joy rolled from him, and then the man turned to look at him as he approached the table.
âCoffee or tea?â he asked him. âAlso, after breakfast, could you go down and fix that girl for me? Sheâs been awfully loud this morning, and itâs sort of ruining my mood.â
âCoffee,â Ezra responded. âAnd are you sure? It doesnât seem like anything could ruin it.â A thought suddenly struck him and it was easy to turn serious, his expression smoothing as he eyed Daryn. âAbout last nightâŚâ
Daryn stilled, watching him closely.
âI did a pregnancy testâŚâ
No sooner had the words left his mouth that a wide grin spread across Darynâs face. Abandoning the eggs at the stove, disregarding the hazards of it entirely, he moved in on Ezra, pressing him back against the counter heâd moved to. âI think Iâd be a wonderful father,â said Daryn earnestly, and Ezra couldnât stifle a laugh. Still, when the man leaned in again, he couldnât protest; he let him.
