Hey! I know you haven't heard from me in a while, I'm a busy woman!
Really.
I do have a life. Kind of. Ish.
Anyway, this is the first short one-shot/drabble for my Harry Potter request story.
This is how it works:
Each chapter will be a new drabble/one-shot. The prompts will start with the letters of the alphabet. For instance, this chapter is At All, and the pairing is Cedric/Harry. So, the next chapter could be, Bubbles; Ron/Luna, and so on.
And I want all of you to request something. But be quick about it! The first review is the one I'll be doing! So make sure you don't hesitate if you want your idea to make it!
It had all started with stolen, brief, but lustful all the same, glances at meals, in corridors, wherever they could.
Then, it had escalated to forbidden, electrifying touches, brushes of fingers, or a friendly, reassuring clap on the shoulder that lasted just a bit too long.
Afterwards, it was what seemed, to the casual observer, a very affectionate friendship. Meetings in the kitchens for a more private lunch, laughter-filled games on a sunny Quidditch pitch, nights spent by the lake, gazing up at the starry sky, their breath coming in small, cloud-like puffs.
Later, a particularly cold night of stargazing, body heat was the most desirable and satisfying form of warmth.
That night, their relationship changed. Changed, twisted, warped into something neither of them could have anticipated.
But it was changed in a way that was so deeply fulfilling to both sides that it never crossed their minds how deep they were getting.
From then, it was short, but passionate nonetheless, meetings in deserted corridors, feverish kisses across collarbones, on flat, Quidditch-hardened stomachs, up soft, smooth thighs, on lips that were swollen and red from heated, zealous kisses.
It was secret, lust filled hours in the Room of Requirement, where they needn't keep their moans to a minimum. It was moist lips sucking, nibbling and exploring every inch of one another's body, even those where the simplest touch was the most pleasurable thing the other could ever imagine.
It was hushed trysts behind red; Gryffindor curtains, with moans muffled by fiery kisses, and bit lips to keep from screaming in bliss. Quiet escapades behind yellow, Hufflepuff drapes, where actions of a sexual nature where preformed behind closed hangings, on a regular basis, with the aid of a rushed Silencing Charm.
But the night before the big event that neither knew was to bring about the deepest grief ever felt, the soft, desirable words I love you, were said for the last time.
When the Boy-Who-Lived sits, face in hands, with stolen Firewhisky as his lips, bittersweet memories plaguing his every thought, his nose ravaged with his lover's smell, his hands aching to feel the same splay of creamy skin, almost wishes he hadn't made it at all.
You know what to do!!!
Give me some requests! Be creative about it!
Lexi.