Lol I found a livejournal app :D

“What the hell is this?” Alcibiades asked, waving a piece of paper frantically, his face as red as the most patriotic Volstovic flag.

“Well, if you’d hold it still, my dear, I’ll tell you,” Caius said, mildly annoyed with his best friend’s antics and the fact that he had to jump in a much undignified manner to see the letter.

“It’s a fucking invitation to a fucking banquet that’s to be held to-fucking­-morrow!” Alcibiades shouted, punctuating the last word with three sharp raps of the invitation on Caius’s head. “And what’s more, I found it in your fucking drawer!”

“Alcibiades, my dear,” Caius said, pouting a bit. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, su-fucking-prise! And stop that!” another rap on his head, “You could have let me know about this. Not that I’m going, but, still—“

“Oh, my dear, you have to go! You absolutely cannot refuse an invitation from the Esar himself!” Caius said, perking up a bit about the possible scandal that could cause. “That’s his penmanship, you know. He wrote that out just for you! And he wrote a letter! He especially wants to see his favorite general. You simply cannot refuse!”

“I can and will. I’m not going.”

“Alcibiades, my dear, you sound like a petulant child. And anyway, you can’t refuse, you’ll break my heart. I’ve already got our outfits prepared!”

“Do? What?” Alcibiades made each word a question of its own, narrowing his eyes and straightening to his full, imposing height to tower over Caius. “Prepared. How?”

“Oh, do come see! We’ll be matching again!” Caius was not intimidated.

Alcibiades decided Caius was a bit too close to him. He knew Alcibiades too well and trusted him too much to be intimidated by such simple tricks. Except, maybe, growling, which Alcibiades hadn’t tried before.

He tried it then.

Caius just grinned back at him, pulling him down the hall, completely untroubled by the fact that his companion was not very happy and he was likely to be murdered violently during the night. His companion was not just ‘not very happy’. He was angry, very angry, in fact, that he was being forced to go to this dinner. Alcibiades sighed, thinking ‘bastion damn it all,’ and resigned himself to his fate. He was being dragged down the hall by a boy half his size and ten years younger than him to get ready for some bastion-damned dinner that he had no choice but to—“Greylace! What in bastion’s name did you do to my fucking shirt!” he shouted furiously, any thoughts of resignation driven from his mind by the color of the shirt Caius Greylace was holding. He was going to die, violently, decided Alcibiades.

“Oh, I only dyed it blue, my dear.”

“It was white!”

“Oh, I know. And now it’s blue. No need to be upset, my dear.”

“No need to—! My favorite—! Dyed—! It was supposed to be white! Now it’s Ke-Han-peacock-fucking-BLUE!” he sputtered indignantly.

“Blue looks better on blondes, my dear, trust me. Put it on.” Caius, unknowing of the danger to his life, offered the shirt in Alcibiades’s direction.

“Trust—! Put—!” Alcibiades was spluttering again and Caius was beginning to worry about the health and sanity of his friend. Not knowing whether he should place the shirt in Alcibiades’s hands or lay it on the bed, he dropped the shirt and hurried to the door, thinking that third option is always the safest option, and left Alcibiades to dress while he got himself ready.

Caius was finishing pinning his hair into place when his door was pushed open. Alcibiades stood in the door tugging at his hem and frowning at his shoelaces. “I look stupid,” he said.

“No you don’t, my dear. You look great.”

He grunted in response, tugged at his hem, ran a hand through his hair, scuffed his shoe, and muttered something about “batshit insane.” He looked so adorably nervous that Caius had to smile.

“Come now, my dear, you won’t be the only one wearing blue,” he said, spinning to better show off his blue robes. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“He won’t like it,” Alcibiades said.

“No, he won’t. Nor will he like my robes.”

“That was the point?”

“Oh, yes,” Caius smiled a wicked smile, “That was exactly the point.”

“Well, then. The Esar’s a douchebag. He has this coming.”

The dinner went oddly well. The only remarks that were made on their outfits were a few people asking why in bastion’s name they were wearing Ke-Han blue to a banquet celebrating Volstov’s victory, to which Caius only responded “Blue just looks better on blondes” and Alcibiades always said “I just like to show a little solidarity” and nodded to Caius, who everybody would agree was just batshit insane and there was nothing to be done about it.

There was nothing to be done about it. Caius sighed, thinking about Alcibiades wearing the blue shirt to the banquet. The patchwork outfit was most certainly payback. He wondered vaguely as he put it on if Alcibiades would possibly be wearing anything that would match it. He liked to match. He glanced in the mirror and frowned, deciding that if he squinted just right it didn’t look too bad.

Caius walked into the kitchen, where Alcibiades was sitting, neat as you please, eating a sandwich in an outfit as terrible as his, except in the Ke-Han style. Caius started laughing, not bothering to hide behind his sleeve.

Apparently there was no limit to which Alcibiades would go for vengeance, but at least they matched.

“So,” Alcibiades said, giving up on eating because he was laughing so hard, “Shall we go to the theatre?”





Written for DragonGem5 on dA and all my thremedon friends

Back before that bastion-fucked magician’s plague, I’d have never thought I’d be where I am now. Even when I was stuck in the Basquiat with Royston and his child-bride and that damned kid kept making jokes about the sickness, I didn’t like him.

I certainly would never have imagined I’d like the way he tended to take even a grunt as conversation, the way he bounced and vibrated when he got excited, his sighs, his delicate shivers. Recently I’ve found myself doing things just to hear him sigh in irritation, and wearing the ugliest damned clothes I could get my hands on just to see him shiver. And I sure as hell would never have believed it, even if I’d gone back in time and told myself, that I’d fucking let Caius fucking Greylace snuggle to my side for warmth in the middle of the damn winter. Well, okay, late fall, but that doesn’t matter, does it?

We were walking to his ‘surprise’ and there he was, pretty as you please, freezing his ass off in that thin-ass silk thing from Ke-Han, so he snuggles in to my side. Only, I don’t really feel like pushing him off. But the way he was shivering, I had no choice. Hated it, though, the little whimper he made and the way he shivered so violently when I pulled my arm out of his grip. I could see he was trying not to pout as he stood there shaking, telling me he wasn’t cold. I don’t know if it was gallantry or just a ploy to get my arm back, and I really didn’t—and still don’t—give a flying fuck. I threw my jacket around him, keeping my arm around his shoulders too keep him warmer. He let out one of those beautiful sighs—of relief or happiness or something—and snuggled in, sliding his thin arm around my waist. I shivered, thinking that I could get used to this, his arm around my waist, those little sighs, the way his body fit just right under my arm and pressed against my side when he suddenly pulled away. He had one of those looks, like when he’s fussing about my temper. Oh fuck, I thought, What’d I do this time?

“You are cold!”  he chastised.

I grabbed him back to my side, holding the coat on him, keeping him from throwing it off to give back to me.”No. Not cold.”  Just incredibly aroused, but I wasn’t telling him that. It’d just make his head bigger. Though, that may not be such a bad thing, depending on the head. “We there yet?” I asked, chuckling when he told me my voice sounded funny.

When we finally got to his ‘surprise’—which was a bastion-be-damned cabin that he was gonna live in ‘to give me space.’ Like hell that was gonna happen—we ended up having a bit of an argument. The result? I’m moving. He’s coming with me. We sealed that deal with a kiss—about damn time. I didn’t realize I’d been waiting so long.

I would have never in all my years imagine I’d have a very naked Caius Greylace curled against my body with his head on my naked chest and his leg thrown over mine and looking so fucking gorgeous in the moonlight that I just gotta kiss him. And, not being a man to be completely unreasonable, I did. He sighed—that little cross-dressing shit-stirrer, he was awake the entire time!—and raised up a bit to see me. I loved the little content smile on his face at that moment. He seemed so happy to be practically laying on me. I know I sure as hell was happy with the moment. But it didn’t last long.

“So?” he asked, looking for all the world like a lost child, all of a sudden.

“What?” I grunted, irritated with the change of mood.

“Are we friends, or—“

“Caius, if we were friends, I wouldn’t have just fucked your damn brains out.” I said. Suddenly, he was shifting, getting up. What  the hell had I said this time? I grabbed his wrist, determined not to let him go. “Why’re you upset?” I asked in a gentler tone. It wasn’t his fault I was hard as all hell—well, actually, it was, him being all naked and stuff, but that’s beside the point—so I really shouldn’t take it out on him. He pulled at me, trying to make me let go. I just pulled him closer, grabbing his face. “Caius, what’d I say?” I asked, leaning my forehead against his. “You know me. I don’t get the emotional shit. You’re gonna have to tell me, okay?”

“You said we weren’t friends—“

I grunted, cutting him off. “No. We aint. I’d say—“

He pulled suddenly, angry with me for something again. I grabbed him around the waist, pulling him into my lap, holding tightly with one arm while my other hand went to his face, forcing him to look at me. “Why don’t you fucking let me finish!” I growled. He settled down, watching me warily. “I was saying that I don’t think that we’re just friends anymo—“ another jerk, bastion damn it all. I flipped him over using my body to pin him to the bed. “I don’t do ‘friends with benefits,’ Caius, so I guess—hold still damn it and let me finish!” He was still bucking and jerking around, trying to get loose. I kissed him--hell if I know why. He resisted a bit, then moaned as I slid my tongue along his lip. He bucked again, but this time I didn’t think he was trying to get away. Seemed more like he was trying to get closer. He moaned again, and I let his hands go and raised up, breaking the kiss.

“Oh,” he breathed, “I get it.” Ah, there it is, I thought as that content smile slipped back onto his face, replacing the frightening angry and hurt look from before. “Alcibiades, my dear, you could have just told me you wanted us to be lovers.”

“What the hell do you think I was trying to tell you? You jumping all over the damn place didn’t make it easy for me to make my point.”

“Oh,” was all he said as he grabbed me around the waist, pulling me down on top of him.

I just kissed him again, bucking a bit myself. He seemed to like the idea and opened his legs and mouth, granting me access on both fronts.

Another battle won for General fucking Alcibiades of the fucking Glendarrow.

Okay, a bit of language, you know Al..
___________________
“Greylace!”

Ah, yes, I have somehow managed to again annoy Alcibiades. The poor dear really needs to learn to control that temper of his, or he’ll end up having a heart attack, which would be bad for both of us.

And I think I know just the way to cheer him up.

Alcibiades ran into the room, eyes wild and face blood red—perfect color for him, that, though it clashes terribly with his clothes. My concern about his heart increases, I mean, if his heart was to explode, I would be terribly sad, not to mention dear Yana, and I tell him so.

“Why the hell,” he asks, calming a bit at the mention of poor, dear Yana, “would you be sad? You’re the one who—“

“Oh?” I cut him off, “Because you’re my best friend, that’s why.” I left out what else he meant to me, knowing it would only anger him more. “But, my dear, I want to show you something.” I clamp onto his arm, tugging him out the door to my secret place, flattered that he didn’t try to shake me off as he used to in Xi’an.

“You gonna answer my question?” he asks.

I snuggle closer—pretty as it is, this thin silk is not good for autumn in the country—and say “Alcibiades, my dear, I already answered it. I said I’d be sad because you’re my best friend, and—“

“No,” he interrupts, “I got that. I asked a different one.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, where the hell’re we goin’?”

“You’ll see.” I smile, look up at him, and snuggle a bit closer, trying to hide a shiver.

“Cold?” he asked, inevitably pulling his arm out of my grasp and stealing all the warmth.

I suppress another shiver and try not to pout, not wanting to anger him. “No, I’m fine”

“You can’t be. That silk is thinner than Hapenny cloth! Hold on.” He pulled his off soldier’s jacket, wrapping it around me and pulling me to his side. “There, better?”

I sigh contentedly. “Yes, much, thank you. But won’t you get cold?”

“I’m not the one wearing silk in the bastion-be-damned winter.”

“It’s still fall, my dear. And we’re almost there.” I sigh again, content in the warmth, and utterly thrilled that he was holding me for a change. I snuggle yet closer, though heat isn’t what makes me do it. There’s plenty of heat now: heat from the jacket, heat from his arm and body, and heat pooling deep in my gut. As I slip my arm through the sleeve of the coat and around his waist, I feel him shiver violently. “You are cold!” I cry indignantly. Touched as I am that he gave me his coat, I was not going to let him freeze in the cold autumn air, but when I try to shrug off his arm and jacket, he only pulls me closer, his other arm crossing over us to hold the coat on me.

“No,” he said, “not cold. We there yet?”

His voice sounded funny, and I told him so. He just chuckled—rare sound, that. “Yes, dear, it’s in the cabin up ahead. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“If it’s worth getting your new shoes dirty, I’m sure I’ll like it”

I smile, thinking this is the friendliest he’s ever been, though he had been notably friendlier after he nearly tore the castle in Xi’an down. I wonder what Lord Temur said to him?

“Cute,” he says, “the cabin, I mean. Never knew it was here”

“I built it myself, or rather, had it built,” I say as I open the door—quite a challenge, since Alcibiades showed no signs of letting me go for a moment. I finally broke away from him. Sweeping my arms out elegantly, I say “Your room at Yana’s is your own.” I don’t much like the idea of leaving my sweet Alcibiades, but I try to hide it. “If you want, I’ll stay here.” I’m trying to present it like it’s a great idea. The one thing Alcibiades wanted from me more than anything was space, time away from my craziness. I really was trying, I was, but I still had to turn away to compose myself, so I walked to the window.

Alcibiades grunted, and then grunted again. Suddenly, his hand was on my shoulder and he was growling “Turn the fuck around, Caius.” I barely had time to paste a falsely excited grin on my face before he jerked me around, grabbing my other shoulder. He stared at me a moment, sadness and disgust and something else written on his face and in his eyes. “No,” he said, shaking his head violently and shaking me gently to punctuate his point. “If anyone leaves Yana’s, it’s me.”

“Alcibiades, my dear,” I said, raising my hand to touch his face. I hadn’t meant to hurt him. “I’m the stranger here. Dear Yana would be horrified if you leave. I—“

“She likes you too much.”

“You’re like a son to her”

“She worries about me too much, you’d—“

“I am not letting you leave her!” I yelled. “I just can’t let you.”

“You can and you will, Caius. It’s me that’s gotta go. It’s not far away—“

“But what about her cooking? It’s wonderful! Wouldn’t you miss—“

Alcibiades silenced me with a fingertip. “There’s a fair deal more privacy out here, too. She won’t be offended if I leave, but you’re a guest. She’d be offended if you left.”

”But—“

“And you’re my guest, so I don’t suppose she’d mind as much if you follow me.”

Had he always been holding me so close? I can see each eyelash, the tears in his eyes. Was I wrong? Did he not want me to go, to give him space? And what did he mean by ‘follow’?

“Caius?”

When did his hand get on my hip? And the other, why was it cradling my face?

“Caius, please, please listen to me. If anyone moves, it has to be me. You can come with me if you want—I don’t suppose there’d be any stopping you—but it has to be me.”

“I’m sorry. I was trying to give you space. I thought—“

Alcibiades smiled softly. “Caius,” he breathed. It was such a beautiful sound and I wanted to make him do it again, but at the moment he was speaking. “If you wanted to give me space, Caius, you would have never read that letter,” he said, running his thumb along my bottom lip.

I was wrong, so wrong. He wanted me to go—with him, some place very private.

He bent down and caught my lower lip between his teeth. I sighed, then groaned, as he toyed with it, licking and nipping, then, when I finally decided enough was enough, I grabbed him and kissed him full on.

He tasted really nice. He slid his tongue against mine in an imitation of what I really wanted our bodies to be doing. The way things were going, it would be soon that I got my wish.

He tasted really good, and I told him so. He told me to kindly shut the fuck up.

Amid a stillness profound as death... enshrouded in the sky and the sun that burns the flesh, you are vanishing as you go.

What is it that I seek amid this wandering? What for myself, all alone

Alone, again.

I remember the night Lily and James died. It was so still. Too still. The day was hot and the sun felt like it scorched the flesh on my bones. The night was almost as still as death, despite the kids running around, trick- or treating.

The day he went after Pettigrew was like that too. Too hot and too still. Rank with horrible possibilities and distrust.

He got thrown in prison that night, and I was left more alone than I had been since I was eleven.

 I remember the night Sirius died clearly as it was yesterday. I remember watching as he fell through the veil, disappearing as he went. I remember not being able to do anything, except keep Harry from going through after him. And those were the exact words I thought as I saw it happening: Alone, again. 

I keep looking for him, though, as if he weren’t really gone. I’ve never been much of a Seeker though, so my search always is in vain.

But I don’t want to be alone, so completely alone, like I was in first year, like I am now.

Even if you despise yourself from within the depths of frigid eyes still clutching at the hatred,

the pain will not, cannot be stifled.

Embracing that eternally living sorrow,

I remember seeing him after he escaped from Azkaban. He was so old, his eyes so haunted. He hated himself for suggesting Pettigrew, that was for sure. I also believe he hated himself for not trusting me. There’s so much pain there that it was hard to go back to how things were before. How we were before.

I don’t blame him for not trusting me. I mean, Merlin, I am a werewolf. A Dark Creature. Naturally, the first one to suspect of falling into Voldemort’s clutches. But he hated himself for it.

So, he went and did something rash, showing up at the Ministry like that. Yes, Severus goaded him, but I don’t think he was trying to prove anything to Severus Snape. I think he was still trying to prove himself to me, though it was I who should have proved my allegiance to him, Dumbledore, and the Order, instead of letting them suspect me.

Or maybe he was trying to prove that he trusted me, and if that’s the case, then I failed him. I couldn’t save him.

There was nothing I could do.

I cannot help still remembering that vanished person whom once you were,

and my unwavering, unchangeable feelings toward you:

Deeply, deeply, even now...

Yeah...  I love you.

He was barely the person I knew in school, yet, he was there. Yes, even after 12 years in Azkaban, that was still the man I fell in love with. I was still as much in love with him as I was when I was 16. My feelings never changed.

Illumined by the moonlight, even the feel of your name, hummed beneath 

my breath, is snatched away and extinguished by the wind.

On the nights of the full moon, I remember how he kept me sane, a friendly voice, a friendly smell, among all the chaos that assaulted my senses.

But you’re not here anymore, are you?  You can’t help me keep my mind, as you used to. Instead, your name, your scent, your voice echoing off these haunted walls make me as insane as the full moon does. Because, no matter how I look, you’re not coming back, are you?

You’ve been snatched away like flame in the wind. Snatched and extinguished. 

And I’m alone once again.

I kept singing that song for you, the one you taught me as you smiled at the dawn;

and I kept on counting the tears that returned to the starry sky;

again and again and yet again, the nights merely repeated themselves-- 

Deeply, deeply, even now...

Yeah...I love you.

Once, I though I heard a voice in the halls, his, singing a Japanese song that we both loved. Hoshi no something. The name translated roughly to “Stardust.” I heard it, though.

The only Japanese I know is from that song. The last couple lines. And that’s what I heard, Sirius’ voice singing:

Fukaku, fukaku, ima mo

 Sou.. ai shiteru.

Deeply, deeply, even now,

Yeah.. I love you.

And I sang along. Hearing that made me feel not so completely alone.

Yeah, I love you, too, Padfoot. Even now.