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hp_may_madness2014-05-03 08:08 am
katekintail.livejournal.com) wrote in hp_may_madness2014-05-03 08:08 am
Entry tags:
FIC: Game of Letters 3
Title: Game of Letters 3
Author: KateKintail
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: R
Kink: Wanking
Disclaimer: Not my characters, world, or paycheck.
Summary: A series of letters.
Notes; Written for hp_may_madness 2014
Word count: 200
My Padfoot,
Do you mean to say that James insists on unwinding every night in a gay nightclub? Is he mental, or is he just trying to make me jealous, thinking of all those sweaty men dancing with you and touching you and ogling you all night when I’m stuck here, surrounded by unavailable unwanteds? If I were there, I would fight each and every one of them off with every defensive curse in my considerable arsenal.
But I’m not there, am I? At the most, I can sneak away to a dark corner to scribble thoughts and, if I’m especially lucky, shove a hand down my pants and wank. My wanks have to be quick, faster than our time up on the tower, that’s for sure. Just a couple firm strokes, a squeeze and pull or two. Or I rub myself against a wall, imagining that it’s you. And, like time, privacy is a luxury I don’t have here. The best I can do is close my eyes and pretend that there aren’t werewolves walking by or, worse, watching from the shadows. I imagine you each time. But from now on, I’ll imagine you dancing. With me.
Your Moony?
Author: KateKintail
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: R
Kink: Wanking
Disclaimer: Not my characters, world, or paycheck.
Summary: A series of letters.
Notes; Written for hp_may_madness 2014
Word count: 200
My Padfoot,
Do you mean to say that James insists on unwinding every night in a gay nightclub? Is he mental, or is he just trying to make me jealous, thinking of all those sweaty men dancing with you and touching you and ogling you all night when I’m stuck here, surrounded by unavailable unwanteds? If I were there, I would fight each and every one of them off with every defensive curse in my considerable arsenal.
But I’m not there, am I? At the most, I can sneak away to a dark corner to scribble thoughts and, if I’m especially lucky, shove a hand down my pants and wank. My wanks have to be quick, faster than our time up on the tower, that’s for sure. Just a couple firm strokes, a squeeze and pull or two. Or I rub myself against a wall, imagining that it’s you. And, like time, privacy is a luxury I don’t have here. The best I can do is close my eyes and pretend that there aren’t werewolves walking by or, worse, watching from the shadows. I imagine you each time. But from now on, I’ll imagine you dancing. With me.
Your Moony?
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