Glory and Ashes
Marked
Marlene grins at Sirius as he lights the two cigarettes in his mouth and passes one to her.
"Close call tonight, eh kid?" she asks.
Sirius scowls. "Less of the kid, McKinnon. I'm barely eighteen months younger than you," he growls. "And… yeah. I was glad you'd got my back."
She smiles again, blowing smoke in his face. "Any time, kid."
Part of him wants to be angry with her, but another part, the bigger and stronger part, wants something very different. His mouth twists as he tries to think of something to say that will put him on top, where he wants to be, where he is used to being. Right now, he is only too aware that she is playing with him, laughing at him.
She knows what he is thinking. She laughs and throws her cigarette into the gutter, sidling up to him, and throwing his cigarette after hers. Her arms are round his shoulders, her face inches from his, and he finds his body responding to her without conscious thought and despite his continuing annoyance with her.
She leans forward and kisses him hard and deep and long.
"Better?" she whispers, and Sirius can only nod.
She pulls away from him, winds her arm in his and pulls him into the alley nearby.
"Thing is…" she drawls, as she rips open his shirt and moves down to his belt. "Thing is, Sirius love, that this is a war. And war marks people like nothing else does."
He gasps and tugs at her blouse wildly, but she can tell that he is listening.
"We wouldn't behave like this if time wasn't precious," she whispers. "Would we, love?"
Sirius doesn't answer. His mouth comes down hard on hers and silences her. This is war, and they are young.