Oakstone730 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oakstone730) wrote2014-01-05 12:00 pm
oakstone730) wrote2014-01-05 12:00 pm
Entry tags:
Happy Birthday to ImpishTubist
A very happy birthday to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
impishtubist - I know her preferred birthday gift was already granted by not one, but two, OTP hugs during last week's Sherlock premier, so instead I only can offer this... an excerpt from a story I'm working on.
Pairing: Charlie/Remus
Length: 600ish
Rating: Sadly PG-13
Warning: Unbeta'd
His breath was laboured as he broke a path through the drifts of fresh snow that had fallen while he was in the village. The path was lit by the bluish moonlight, the moon having just crested the horizon of the valley. Charlie stopped and peered at it through the silhouette of the trees, waxing, just two days until the full moon. He looked ahead at the path, and swallowed his disappointment; no one else had travelled this way tonight.
It was during the winter months when it was the most difficult. Long nights spent reading by the fireplace, solitary meals eaten out of obligation rather than desire, and trips to the village, reluctantly seeking out the companionship of others when he could no longer bear the isolation, then sitting in the smoke-filled tavernă, listening to the same stories he’d heard a hundred times before - of escaped dragons, poachers and dubious sightings of winged nogtails. He’d sat amidst the others, watching the chess game, sipping his whiskey and daring to hope that when he returned home that the matching armchair next to his wouldn’t be empty.
The path opened up to the clearing, his stone cottage that he’d called home for the past four years. The wood pile stacked to the eaves on the lee side, the small pen where he cared for injured animals. He forced himself to shake off the melancholy and appreciate the beauty of his little part of the valley; the fresh snow clung to the branches of the trees and covered the cottage with a cocoon of white that meant it would be snug and cozy inside, despite the temperatures that were below zero.
Kicking the snow away from the door, he pulled it open, no need for locks on doors this deep into the woods. Stepping inside, he quickly shut it to keep the snow and cold out and sat on the bench by the door, unlacing his boots and hanging up his parka, the mittens he walked over to the banked fireplace to dry. As he'd known it would be, the chair was empty.
It was only as he reached for a piece of wood stacked next to the fireplace that he realized he wasn’t alone in the room. The shadow stood in the doorway to the bedroom, Charlie forced his arms to move, using the log to jab at the coals, sending a shower of sparks upwards as he set the piece of wood on the coals followed by two more. It would only take a few moments for the fire to heat the room.
He sat back on his heels and waited, closing his eyes as he heard the pad of bare feet across the wood floor. Remus knelt behind him and Charlie leaned back into him as his arms embraced him. Remus buried his face in Charlie’s hair, taking a deep inhale, and then he nuzzled Charlie’s neck and jaw. “You smell of tobacco, whiskey, and...men.”
“Chess, down in the village.” Charlie reached back with his arm, feeling the silkiness of Remus’s hair. “Wouldn’t have gone, if I’d known…”
“I only have a few hours, but couldn’t stay away, not two moons in a row.”
Charlie nodded; he knew the need that drove Remus before the full moon. Turning in his arms, Charlie studied his gaunt face, the werewolf was hovering near the surface, his eyes were black, the tension showing in the lines around his eyes, his mouth. Standing up, he pulled Remus to him. Their mouths met and Charlie groaned with the assurance that this wasn’t another of his dreams, the hands gripping him around the waist wouldn’t vanish when he opened his eyes. The tongue tasting, seeking his own could only be Remus. He walked backwards towards the bedroom, pulling Remus with him as he went, not breaking the kiss until the mattress hit the back of his legs.
impishtubist - I know her preferred birthday gift was already granted by not one, but two, OTP hugs during last week's Sherlock premier, so instead I only can offer this... an excerpt from a story I'm working on.Pairing: Charlie/Remus
Length: 600ish
Rating: Sadly PG-13
Warning: Unbeta'd
His breath was laboured as he broke a path through the drifts of fresh snow that had fallen while he was in the village. The path was lit by the bluish moonlight, the moon having just crested the horizon of the valley. Charlie stopped and peered at it through the silhouette of the trees, waxing, just two days until the full moon. He looked ahead at the path, and swallowed his disappointment; no one else had travelled this way tonight.
It was during the winter months when it was the most difficult. Long nights spent reading by the fireplace, solitary meals eaten out of obligation rather than desire, and trips to the village, reluctantly seeking out the companionship of others when he could no longer bear the isolation, then sitting in the smoke-filled tavernă, listening to the same stories he’d heard a hundred times before - of escaped dragons, poachers and dubious sightings of winged nogtails. He’d sat amidst the others, watching the chess game, sipping his whiskey and daring to hope that when he returned home that the matching armchair next to his wouldn’t be empty.
The path opened up to the clearing, his stone cottage that he’d called home for the past four years. The wood pile stacked to the eaves on the lee side, the small pen where he cared for injured animals. He forced himself to shake off the melancholy and appreciate the beauty of his little part of the valley; the fresh snow clung to the branches of the trees and covered the cottage with a cocoon of white that meant it would be snug and cozy inside, despite the temperatures that were below zero.
Kicking the snow away from the door, he pulled it open, no need for locks on doors this deep into the woods. Stepping inside, he quickly shut it to keep the snow and cold out and sat on the bench by the door, unlacing his boots and hanging up his parka, the mittens he walked over to the banked fireplace to dry. As he'd known it would be, the chair was empty.
It was only as he reached for a piece of wood stacked next to the fireplace that he realized he wasn’t alone in the room. The shadow stood in the doorway to the bedroom, Charlie forced his arms to move, using the log to jab at the coals, sending a shower of sparks upwards as he set the piece of wood on the coals followed by two more. It would only take a few moments for the fire to heat the room.
He sat back on his heels and waited, closing his eyes as he heard the pad of bare feet across the wood floor. Remus knelt behind him and Charlie leaned back into him as his arms embraced him. Remus buried his face in Charlie’s hair, taking a deep inhale, and then he nuzzled Charlie’s neck and jaw. “You smell of tobacco, whiskey, and...men.”
“Chess, down in the village.” Charlie reached back with his arm, feeling the silkiness of Remus’s hair. “Wouldn’t have gone, if I’d known…”
“I only have a few hours, but couldn’t stay away, not two moons in a row.”
Charlie nodded; he knew the need that drove Remus before the full moon. Turning in his arms, Charlie studied his gaunt face, the werewolf was hovering near the surface, his eyes were black, the tension showing in the lines around his eyes, his mouth. Standing up, he pulled Remus to him. Their mouths met and Charlie groaned with the assurance that this wasn’t another of his dreams, the hands gripping him around the waist wouldn’t vanish when he opened his eyes. The tongue tasting, seeking his own could only be Remus. He walked backwards towards the bedroom, pulling Remus with him as he went, not breaking the kiss until the mattress hit the back of his legs.