For my dear Amber, who requested DudleyPiers with the prompt, "I loved you the way I learned to ride a bike - scared, but reckless." by Rudy Francisco.
Warning, as always for my DudleyPiers: strong themes of homophobia, both internal and external.
QLFC: Holyhead Harpies, Chaser 2: Use the title of a story written by your Chaser 3 for inspiration, using: "I can't do this anymore" from the collection Drabble Along by RebekahGrace. Optional Prompts: (word) eternity; (quote) "I loved you the way I learned to ride a bike — scared, but reckless." - Rudy Francisco; (idiom) every cloud has a silver lining
3026 words by my count, so within the margin by a hair.
HSWW: Assignment 1, Mythology: Task 10 - Ammit: Write about someone who is feared (restriction: cannot be Voldemort or a Death Eater).
The truth is the most terrifying thing Dudley can think of.
He's spent so long hiding the it, even from himself.
But he's lived through months in hiding due to a war that wasn't even his to fight.
He's had a lot of time to think.
And to regret.
…
Dudley is ten years old and he's king of the school. Everybody wants to be his friend, which means he gets to choose.
The kids he doesn't like become outcasts. Like his cousin, who is fun because he runs when they chase him and cries when they stick his head in the toilet.
Dudley loves being in charge.
…
He's twelve and things are shifting. Things are changing, but Dudley's always been good at rolling with the punches, so when he finds out that to stay on top takes more than just strength, it takes flirting, now — with girls, with danger, with the law — he doesn't hesitate.
He teaches himself how to smile bright and say the right things but he schedules dates and then blows them off for more important things, like when Piers has smuggled a bottle of his cousin's alcohol or Malcolm's got a hot older sister back from college that they obviously need to meet.
Because he's not even sure he wants to kiss them; he just knows he's supposed to want that.
Sometimes he wakes up sticky and his sheets are wet but he never remembers what he dreams about. It doesn't matter.
…
He's fourteen and a kid they know goes on a date that's supposed to be a secret, but somebody finds out. Gay. He's gay, and Dudley knows by now what he's supposed to do about that. He's heard his father mutter when they show up on the telly. He's heard his father say real men don't cry, only fairies and women cry.
So Dudley corners the kid, Malcolm and Gordon by his sides, and he says the words he's heard so many times, throws them like missiles.
"You're such a faggot."
"I bet you like it up the arse, don't you?"
"You're weak, and pathetic, and your kind aren't welcome here."
Malcolm and Gordon snigger and nod and Dudley advances, grinning sharply and savagely as the kid shrinks into the corner, terror in his eyes, and Dudley thinks this is what power is.
In theory, Smeltings has a policy against most of what Dudley does. Swirlies. Fist fights. Whacking people with his Smeltings stick.
In reality, the teachers and administrators turn aside. Dudley Dursley rules this school, and nobody cares.
He looks at the kid and wonders what the best way is to show him that his perversion will not be tolerated.
Except then Piers is at his shoulder, whispering in his ear and Dudley pauses.
He's never known Piers' cousin Max is gay. Piers lives with Max, for reasons he's never bothered to explain. Dudley's never asked.
It's never mattered, because they don't go to Piers'. They go to Dudley's, or the park, or Malcolm's because his parents are never home.
Dudley's never even met Max.
But now Piers is saying that Max is gay and Piers has heard him talk about the things people say and… well.
Dudley doesn't want Piers to be unhappy.
When Piers is unhappy, he gets all moody and he won't come out with Dudley and nothing's any fun.
So he turns to the kid who's still cowering in the corner and snaps at him to leave and Malcolm and Gordon are staring at him but Dudley has eyes only for Piers, who is smiling. Smiling in a way that's softer and less sharp than Dudley's ever seen from him before.
Dudley feels weird. He blinks, and the feeling passes, so he shrugs it off and stares down Malcolm and Gordon, who are looking at him like he's lost his head.
Dudley is… confused.
He doesn't know what he's supposed to do here.
In the end, he doesn't touch the kid when Piers is around. He can't stand the way Piers' face will twist into disappointment.
But when Piers isn't around, when it's just Malcolm and Gordon and Dennis, then he backs that kid into corners just like any other loner or loser or anyone who dares stand against him.
And he ignores the twisting in his gut that comes with it, lets himself soak up Malcolm's grin instead.
...
Dudley is fifteen the first time he wakes up sticky with a memory. He can't quite catch the thread of his dream, but he remembers a soft smile and a thrill of warmth.
He's not sure what to do with that, but he knows he doesn't want to forget it.
…
Dudley is sixteen and the world is cold. Someone is screaming. Maybe it's him. It feels like all of the happiness he's ever felt is gone from the world and it's never coming back. He's watching everyone he's every hurt and he can feel their terror, feel their pain.
He reaches out next to him because Piers should be there — Piers is always at his side — but there's nothing there.
Piers is gone.
Piers is gone and Dudley is sobbing. Everything is darkness. This is how he dies.
Then there's something silvery and galloping, driving the darkness away. Then his cousin is helping him up and Dudley doesn't even know when he wound up on the ground in this alley.
He's shaking and shuddering. He keeps reaching out beside him but Piers still isn't there. Dudley still feels so cold.
Harry takes him home and feeds him chocolate. The world gets warmer slowly, but something inside of him is still off until he sees Piers the next day.
He's not sure he wants to know what that means.
…
He's sixteen and he doesn't know who he is anymore.
Things have been different ever since Harry saved him.
He can't forget the terror. Now, every time he tries show someone who's in charge, he meets their eyes and he feels their fear and he can't anymore. He winds up choking on his own words, feeling the way that fear had welled up inside of him, blocking his throat, making him feel like he couldn't breathe.
He can't do this anymore.
But he doesn't know how to stop, either.
…
He wakes up, chest heaving, dream crystal clear. He feels warm and also terrified.
Because his sheets are sticky but he remembers more than just a smile, this time.
He remembers bright blue eyes and long legs and Piers. Piers smiling at him sharply, tipping his head back as he laughs. Piers kissing him, fierce and rough, teeth digging into his bottom lip, Dudley pushing into it, urging him on.
He's breathing too fast, and he wonders if this is going to turn into a panic attack because… what the hell?
He's not…
He can't be.
It's just a dream. It doesn't mean anything. He's not a… no. He's not.
…
He's sixteen and standing face to face with his best friend and wondering if his hands are as soft as they look. Wondering if he would kiss like he does in Dudley's dreams, fierce and reckless and wildfire all the way, or if he'd be gentler in reality.
He shakes himself.
This is wrong. It's wrong. It's disgusting. It's everything Dudley isn't. He's a boxer, a fighter. He's not some nancy-boy.
He's not.
He turns away from Piers.
…
Dudley is seventeen. His cousin is leaving. He and his parents are going into hiding for a war he found out about yesterday.
Dudley can't handle the thick silence in their house. He makes his way to the tiny apartment that he's dropped Piers off at a hundred times. He's never been inside before.
Max answers the door. While Piers is thin and tall, Max is shorter, more solid. They have the same dark black hair and the same bright blue eyes, though.
Max looks him up and down. "Dudley, right?"
Dudley nods. They stare at each other.
He thinks about the things Piers must know he's done to people for being gay, and he thinks that Piers has probably kept them apart for a reason.
But Dudley is working on it — on making sure that he never causes anyone to feel the fear that he felt.
"Is Piers home?" he asks, deciding to leave everything else unsaid.
Max nods and then says, "Come in, then."
Piers is on a tiny, shabby couch in the small living room, watching some show. He looks up at Dudley in surprise.
"What's up?"
Dudley bites his lip, because the truth is he's running away from the dense, cloying silence in his own home, but he's also here to say goodbye, and he's not sure how to say any of that.
Especially not to Piers.
In the past year, just being around Piers has confused Dudley. He still feels that shot of whiskey-like warmth when Piers smiles. But he also feels a twist of disgust at himself, and something that's different, warm but deeper, something he doesn't want to acknowledge.
Because he isn't gay. He isn't.
Piers is his best friend. That's all he'll ever be.
Dudley sits on the couch next to him, listens to it creak as it takes his substantial weight. Max raises an eyebrow at Piers, but Piers just shakes his head and Max wanders away.
"We're moving," he says. He ignores the lump that sits in his stomach at the thought. He's leaving everything he knows — leaving Piers — behind.
"When?" Piers asks. "Where? Why?"
Dudley sighs, staring at his hands. "Tomorrow. And… I can't tell you where."
When he looks up, Piers is frowning at him. "What?"
Dudley shrugs. "I wish I could explain. But I can't."
This doesn't ease Piers' frown. "Is this… witness protection or some shit?"
That's… close enough to the truth, Dudley supposes. "Something like that," he says.
Shock and confusion are clear in Piers' eyes.
"What the fuck?" he asks. "Dud, your dad sells drills and your mum stays at home. What the fuck?"
"It's… a long story," Dudley says. "And I wish I could tell you, but I can't. I'll… I might be able to email you. I'll see."
Piers looks wounded, and Dudley hates that. He hates hurting Piers. He hates all of this.
But Harry has said their lives are at stake. Maybe even the lives of people they care about. And Dudley remembers all too well the thing that came after him two years ago.
If they have to hide from Harry's world, Dudley will go.
But he won't like it.
"I wanted to say goodbye," he tells Piers.
"Are you coming back?" Piers asks, and his voice is thin, unsure. Dudley hates that.
"I hope so," he says, because he can't lie to Piers.
Piers looks at him and for a moment Dudley thinks he's going to say something important. He looks like he's bracing himself, preparing himself. But then he lets out a breath, sinks down, and says, "You'd damn well better."
"I have to go pack," he says into the suddenly charged silence. He goes to stand, but Piers catches his wrist.
"Hey," Piers says. "Stay… stay safe, okay?"
There's something deeper in his words, but Dudley doesn't have time to figure out what it is.
Instead, he just nods and slips free.
…
And then he moves to a house in the middle of goddamn nowhere that has no internet. Just books. Not even a telly. When Dudley asks, they turn the basement into a workout room with decent punching bags, so at least he has something to do. They don't seem to understand electronics at all.
Dudley feels the absence of Piers like a missing limb.
He has a lot of time to think about why that is.
About why it's thinking of Piers that makes him ache, but not the others.
About what it means that the dreams never stopped.
He doesn't want to think about it, because thinking about it makes it real.
Thinking about it makes him realize the way his gaze sometimes lingers on Piers' hands when he gestures, or his lips when he talks. Makes him realize that it's not just in his dreams that he's wondered if those lips are as soft as they look.
Makes him realize he's never felt this way about anyone else.
He doesn't want this. He doesn't want any of this. He just wants things to be simple.
But they aren't simple.
He's mocked people for this, bullied them, derided them, shoved them into lockers or toilets.
For this.
For… being gay.
He remembers that kid, when he was fourteen — the first one at their school to be outed as gay. He remembers the terror in his eyes. Remembers the fear of what would happen now that everyone knew.
He thinks about his father finding out, and he thinks maybe he understands that terror all too well.
He thinks about Piers, about saying goodbye, about the way Piers had looked like he wanted to say something, had gripped his wrist tightly.
He wonders if there's a possibility that Piers understands that terror, too.
…
And now the war is over.
The war is over and Dudley is free of that hellish internet deadzone. They've moved back into 4 Privet Drive. His parents are unpacking their sparse bags, but Dudley just drops his in his room and leaves.
Part of him wants to tell Piers everything he's been thinking about, tell him that… god. That Dudley might be gay.
But he can barely think it. He's not sure he can say it.
Part of him just wants to kiss him, like the first kiss Piers deserves.
Part of him wants to avoid the subject entirely.
He's not sure which part is going to win.
He climbs the stairs to Piers' apartment, takes a deep breath, and knocks.
And there he is.
It feels like it's been an eternity since Dudley has seen him. At the same time, it feels like no time has passed at all.
Piers stares at him for a moment, and then his shock morphs into joy, and he smiles, bright and pure.
"You're alive," he says, as though there was doubt.
Dudley grins back. "Eh, nobody can kill me. I'd just punch 'em if they tried."
Piers hesitates. "Back for good?"
Dudley nods. "Should be."
"Does that mean you can explain why the hell you had to leave?"
Dudley considers this. "Erm. Maybe some of it. But… later."
"Sure, sure." Piers looks him up and down, and Dudley shifts.
"You've lost weight," he says.
Dudley is not blushing.
"Turns out there's not a whole lot to do in witness protection," Dudley says dryly.
Piers laughs, tipping his head back like he does. Dudley stares at the line of his neck, the protrusion of his Adam's apple.
And he's been lying to himself for so long.
He can't anymore.
Caring about Piers — loving Piers — is the scariest thing he's ever done. Far more terrifying than the creatures that came after him. Far more terrifying than running from a war that wasn't his.
But at the same time, it makes him want to do stupid things, like jump off a cliff without a goddamn parachute.
Maybe the war ruined a year of his life, but every cloud has a silver lining, and Dudley thinks maybe Piers is his.
"Can I come in?" he says. "I want to talk to you."
"Sure," Piers says, beckoning him. They pass Max watching telly in the living room, making their way to Piers' room. His bed is unmade, and there are clothes scattered across his floor.
There are stars painted on his ceiling in bright violet, clearly by an amateur.
His room is small, the bed the only place to sit, but Piers flops on it and gestures to the space beside him.
Dudley sits. The mattress springs creak in complaint, but Piers is leaning back against the wall and grinning at him, bright and wildfire dangerous, and Dudley barely notices the bed.
"What did you want to talk about?" Piers asks.
And Dudley finds himself unable to say a word. Because for the first time, he's thinking about the possibility of losing him.
He knows Piers would be fine with… the gay thing. Piers has always been clear about his feelings there.
But… there's a difference between being okay with Dudley being gay and being okay with Dudley loving him.
And the words get stuck, mired in Dudley's fear.
"Mind if I talk first, then?" Piers asks.
Dudley shrugs.
Piers bites his lip. "Look. I… fuck. This might go badly, but I've had a lot of time to think about it and I just… I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend it doesn't exist. So. You can hate me for this, that's fine, but I have to… I have to say it." Piers has been looking down at his hands, but at this point he looks up at Dudley, blue eyes blazing. "I'm gay, Dudley. I'm gay, and I… god. I like you." He looks away. "I'm sorry."
Dudley stares at him in shock. Of all the ways he thought this could go… this was not one of them.
Piers looks back at him. "Are you going to say something?"
And that jars Dudley enough that he can react. "No," he says, and he watches Piers' face fall, but before Piers can say anything else, Dudley is leaning in.
Dudley has imagined their first kiss so many times, in so many different ways — soft, fierce, slow, aggressive — but nothing compares. It's none of these and all of them. It's somehow sparks and wildfire all at once.
Dudley pulls back, and Piers opens his eyes, looking dazed and pleased, cheeks flushed a gorgeous pink.
Dudley wants nothing more than to kiss him again, but he knows that he does actually need to say something.
"I've made a lot of mistakes," he says. "But you're not going to be one of them."
Piers grins, sharp and toothy and wildfire bright, and kisses him again.
Writing Month: 3026 words
Seasonal: Days of the Year:Cousin's Day: Write about cousins.
Shay's Musical Challenge: Mean Girls the Musical - write about being popular
Gryffindor Themed Prompts: Trait: Bold
Character Appreciation: 25. (Plot Point) Raised by someone other than parents
Disney Challenge: C4: The Huntsman - Write about someone being forced to do something they don't want to do.
Showtime: 33. I Know Him - (action) Laughing
Amber's Attic: Slash dleyPiers (5 bonus)
Count Your Buttons: AU1: Orphan!AU
Lyric Alley: 33. As long as I'm alive, swear to God you'll never feel so helpless.
Ami's Audio Admirations: 3. Peter Rouse — Write about someone who is a victim of bullying.
Emy's Emporium: BONUS: Write about someone seeing their identity with fresh eyes. (Review, 5 points)
Funfair: North: balloon wall, violet; East: hook a ship: dry
Hamilton Mania: Act 1, 2. Immigrating - (plot point) moving; optional: Dudley
Insane House: "You can't hurry love" by the supremes