The Kilt and Candy Situation
Elian didn’t have a sweet tooth, spare for hot cocoa. But tonight, he was craving sweeties. He kicked his covers off with a lazy groan and padded to the common room. He was vaguely aware that it was empty as he rubbed his eyes, rounding a yellow, squat loveseat and ducking under a hanging plant.
The Hufflepuff common room had a hidden closet behind a bookshelf, with just enough room for one chair, a lamp, and a shelf filled with sweeties. Elian was already imagining a cockroach cluster crawling around in his mouth, the warm, gooey caramel center spreading across his tongue, as he closed the bookshelf behind him…
Only to see Orpheus sitting, legs spread, nearly completely undressed, in the armchair.
Orpheus was just taller than Elian, who himself barely fit in a chair. Yet here Orpheus was, rear hanging off the front, legs spread wide across the small room, exposing his private bits to the candies. His shoulders were wider than the chair back. His stomach had the topography of the Scottish highlands, rolling firm mounds. And his chest was very full, protruding in a way that always made Elian acutely aware of his own evident ribs.
There was an offensive difference between the two of them. It was made much more offensive by the fact that Orpheus’ entire, muscular, slightly enticing, and very shirtless body was oiled up.
The only part of Orpheus’ massive body covered was his waist, wrapped in a red kilt. Elian had seen the red kilt in Orpheus’ trunk, but never on him. And Orpheus wasn’t wearing anything under the kilt. His legs were spread wide, sprawled across the room, not even a boot on his feet. Orpheus’ legs were equally offensive, slightly hairy and rippling with muscles. There was even an aggressive patch of hair by his stomach, climbing from the waistband of the kilt, that offended Elian with its exclamatory masculinity.
Elian immediately screamed, slapping his hands over his eyes. “ORPHEUS—What the shit?!”
Orpheus nearly flipped the chair slapping his legs shut. “What are you doing here?!”
“What are YOU doing?” Elian hollered back, face burning.
“Out, Saerling!”
“Who is that for? Merlin!” Elian spun around, trying to find the handle through closed eyes.
“GET OUT!”
Elian let out a panicked scream, voice high and cracking. “I CAN’T GET OUT!” His eyes were still clamped shut, making him blindly slap at the back of the bookshelf for the handle to open it.
Behind him, Orpheus growled. It was very loud, very deep, and very gravelly. Within that very same moment, a wash of fear ran down Elian’s back, and a flutter of butterflies ran down his front.
He heard Orpheus stand from the chair and lean forward. He pinned Elian to the door. Elian opened his eyes, half-shocked and half… well, something else that he usually only felt around Sebastian.
“You are very dense,” Orpheus growled in his ear. Elian would be in a lot of trouble if he were wearing a kilt right now. He was very thankful for the confines of his sleeping trousers. And then Orpheus reached under Elian’s arm and opened the door.
Orpheus was suddenly gone, the chair behind him groaning in protest as he fell backward onto it. Elian heard him grunt as he situated himself.
He yanked the door inward, sidestepping it to throw himself back out into the common room. He only barely heard Orpheus’ low growl as the bookshelf snapped shut.
“Don’t wait up…”
Elian saw WAYYY too much hehehe
Orpheus belongs to my bestie @amus2110
I had to write this for her—no reason in particular 😩😩😩
