House: Hufflepuff
Class: Herbology
Type: Standard
Prompt: [colour] Beige
WC: 1119
TW: None
Note: Set pre/at the beginning of Voldermort's rise to power
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"What's bothering you?"
The immediate denial to Moody's words died on Kingsley's lips as the other man raised an eyebrow to punctuate his sentence.
"It's stupid," Kingsley admitted with a shrug. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets for something to do. They were off work so the action didn't earn him a sharp reprimand, and he trusted Moody to be paranoid enough for the both of them.
"Might be," Moody said with a shrug. He placed a hand on the small of Kingsley's back and, after a moment of hesitation, slid it round to hold his hip, both of them shaking off the carefully constructed barriers that were in place while they were at work. "Doesn't mean that it's not still important to you."
Kingsley sighed, a world-weary sound, and ran a hand over his head, the stubble biting at his palm.
"It's something stupid that Sherris found in a Muggle magazine. It's a quiz that's meant to work out your personality through what colour you wind up with at the end of the questions."
He hadn't wanted to join in, half-drowning beneath a pile of paperwork he had taken from Moody's desk when the other man had shown signs of wanting to snap and curse everyone in the office, but he knew from time and experience that it would be faster to indulge her, rather than argue.
Her ringing laughter — not intended to be mocking, and yet still cruel — when he had gotten beige still haunted him.
"I mean, it makes sense," she had said. "You're, you know, dependable."
"And boring!" A voice had called from the back, and Kingsley had burned with the embarrassment, but kept his face blank.
Sherris had shushed them, her voice cracking with bubbles of laughter, and the group moved on, leaving the reflexive embarrassment to fester inside Kingsley's chest until he could escape at the end of the day.
"So, yeah," Kingsley finished, feeling the shame twist through his chest anew. He knew it was such a small thing to be upset about, but it had dragged old memories from Hogwarts back up and he wasn't able to shake them off as easily as he used to.
"Idiots, the lot of them. They can't see what's right in front of them," Moody scoffed derisively, shaking his head in disgust. "Far too much free time if they're able to wander round the office and bother people like a roaming pack of teenagers."
"But what if they're telling the truth? You love me, you've accepted my faults. What if I am just boring and beige?"
"Beige isn't just unchanging mediocrity, which you're far from," Moody added, shoulders hunched against the chill, head ducked to light the cigarette clamped beneath his teeth. The muffled curse that followed the burnt-out match that was flicked to the ground was a clear signal that he was unsuccessful.
Kingsley snorted, drawing them both to a stop, glancing around with a practiced eye as he did so. The street they were meandering through was deep enough in Muggle London that running into another wizard or witch was unlikely, and the gentle mist of rain that threatened to transform into a downpour kept the Muggles safely indoors. Hidden in the sharp gloom next to the iridescent circle of light from the streetlamp, they were as hidden as they were going to be before they made it back home.
He leant down — moving Moody with a single finger pressed against his jaw, smoothing over the ridge of a scar — to press the end of his lit cigarette to Moody's unlit one. The other man breathed in and it flared into light, a brilliant glowing orange that left a stain on Kingsley's field of vision as he straightened up.
"You are dependable and you care so much about everything that you do, trying your hardest to make it better. Because you are consistent, you're trusted. It's not just me that sees that. You're going to go far in this life, and I can't wait to see it." Moody tapped off the loose ash from his cigarette, and reached up with his free hand, hooking his fingers into Kingsley's collar so he could pull the taller down to kiss him.
There was a brief pause as Moody took Kingsley's cigarette in his other hand, his eyes dark and lit only the twin glowing orange tips.
Kissing Moody never failed to send sparks down his spine that pooled in his belly. It was a comfort, familiar in an ever-changing world. War was brewing and they all knew it, but this was something that he wouldn't let it stain.
Moody dragged him from his thoughts by nipping at his bottom lip, drawing back with a laugh and taking a long draught on his cigarette
"See? Familiar, but far from boring," Moody chuckled, before frowning at the cigarettes he held, trying to work out which was which. He shrugged and held one out to Kingsley, who took it back with a steady hand.
Kingsley waved the cigarette as he pretended to think, watching Moody out of the corner of his eye as the faint trail of smoke spiralled through the gloom. His thoughts were pleasantly muddled, but he felt better about his previous concerns, something Moody likely knew by the self-satisfied grin on his face, like the cat that had gotten into the cream.
"I'm not so sure," Kingsley said slowly, deliberately not looking at Moody.
"Oh?" Moody's voice lowered to a rumble.
They began to walk once more in a moment of unspoken communication, Moody's arm slung low around Kingsley's waist, his thumb smoothing over the jut of his hip bone through his shirt.
"Yes," Kingsley said, nodding. The smoke burned as he breathed it in, tasting faintly bitter before he exhaled, forming a shaky ring. "I think I might need more convincing."
"You're going to be the death of me," Moody laughed, the noise seeming to rumble through Kingsley as they were pressed so close together.
Footsteps on the opposing pavement made them seperate in an instant, heads ducked as they breathed out smoke into the biting air. They tracked the passage of the blurred grey figure, the Muggle's shoes clicking against the stone before he rounded the corner and was gone.
"Come on," Moody said, tugging Kingsley back into the space at his side, and the other man went more than willingly. "We're nearly in a clear spot to Apparate."
"I must love you to walk all this way in the rain," Kingsley grumbled half-heartedly, twitching away into Moody as the man pinched his hip.
"You do. And I love you too. Now, come on and stop grumbling."