Chervil

FICLET: Moments Like These

2006-11-28T00:36:03Z

Title: Moments Like These
Author: Chervil
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Harry Potter / Severus Snape
Rating: PG
Summary: Their relationship isn't always frantic couplings and heated arguments. Sometimes, it's made of moments like these.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Written for: 30_breathtakes theme #08 - you're good at what you do

Harry sighed, and slashed a bold red stripe across the nearly illegible essay question at the bottom of the test he was grading. It'd taken him almost ten minutes to pick through each word, and still he'd had a hard time figuring out exactly what the Hufflepuff was trying to say.

The flames in the fireplace crackled, drowning out the soft expletive that escaped from his lips. He gingerly picked the next test from the dwindling pile—after three straight hours of grading, mind you—and started reading through the answers, making the occasional mark when needed. Brighter and brighter the fire leaped, danced, undulated.

The silence was comfortable. It was a different type of silence from the one that descended after Sirius fell through the veil, and certainly different from the eerie stillness that enveloped them right after Voldemort's demise. Harry didn't mind having this silence in his life at all.

The DADA tests were steadily being put off to the side, and each time he did, Harry rewarded himself with a gulp from the only slightly chipped mug of hot chocolate by his side. It burned his throat on the way down, but that was okay, because he liked it that way.

The fire suddenly sizzled, then died. Snape cautiously dipped a wooden ladle into the bubbling contents and, after staring inscrutably at the lavender concoction for several seconds, tipped the ladle so it streamed back into the cauldron. He grabbed a tube he'd placed on the mantle, and tilted it over the potion so that the liquid inside dripped down, all the while using his other hand to stir it clockwise, rhythmically.

“One... two... three... four... five.... six... seven...” Harry counted.

Snape slanted him a darkly amused glance.

After the eighteenth clockwise stir, Snape stopped, and then started stirring counter-clockwise. Again, Harry counted each circumvention until Snape stopped again. He kept his eyes fixed on Snape's hands, watching as Snape once again lifted the ladle and, this time, steadily fill the empty vials upon vials he'd procured from his supply storage.

Once he'd finished with the last vial, and set it on the mantle alongside the other identical ones, he flicked his wand. The cauldron disappeared, along with the vials, and Snape's lips curved into a smile of lazy satisfaction.

From the living room off towards the right, a clock struck nine.

Harry heard, and hurriedly return to his work. Those tests weren't going to grade themselves. Snape set about cleaning himself, dragging off the thick dragon hide gloves he'd had on, and disappeared into his bedroom on the left.

It wasn't until later that the grandfather clock in the corner chimed nine, fifteen minutes late, and Snape emerged from the bedroom. His eyes met Harry's, and that lazy smile still curled at his lips. Snape silently sat down across from Harry, and helped himself to some of the essays that had already been graded.

Mere moments later, he made a noise of disgust. Harry glanced at Snape. Snape dipped his own quill into the red ink pot, and crossed out something that Harry had missed. Grinning, Harry shrugged, and returned to his own test.

After Harry was done with his test, he set it to the side, and took a sip from the mug of hot chocolate. It burned again, but that was okay, too, because the warm tingle that spread over him—when he'd handed the mug to Snape, and their fingers brushed—was more than enough comfort.

Their relationship isn't always frantic couplings and heated arguments. Sometimes, it's made of moments like these. </div>

FICLET: Then Tell Me You Love Me

2006-10-26T03:36:15Z

Title: Then Tell Me You Love Me
Author: Chervil
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh
Characters: Kaiba Seto / Jounouchi Katsuya
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Seto takes Katsuya on a motorcycle ride.
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh is copyright 1996 Kazuki Takahashi and Konami. No infringement or disrespect is intended.
Written for: 30_nights theme #22 - love you till the very end

Jou let out a whoop of joy as the motorcycle served around the corner, narrowly missing several pedestrians. He flipped his shoulder length blonde hair away from his flushed face and extended a hand in apology to the people who were now shaking their heads in bemusement.

“Enjoying yourself, pup?” Seto asked from the front seat, a wolfish grin alighting on his lips at the sight of his puppy, all flushed and giddy with joy.

Jou tightened his grip on his boyfriend of five months and nodded. He pressed a kiss to the nape of Seto’s neck, a gesture strangely gentle, considering what they were doing at the moment.

“Faster, Seto!” He yelled over the roar of the motorcycle, squeezing Seto’s stomach briefly. “Just remember not to crash into anybody!”

“Your wish is my command,” Seto purred in a throaty tone, the tone that usually sent shivers down Jou’s spine and blood rushing to his groin. A flick of his wrist and they sped up, passing the concrete sidewalks of Domino City in favor of a less populated field off to the side.

Another whoop escaped his throat, louder than the last, and he practically jumped with joy as Seto swerved sharply right before they hit the fence around the field’s perimeter. Faster and fast they went, Seto controlling the motorcycle with an expert hand.

“Seto,” Jou murmured after about half an hour of riding with no end in sight; merely languid swerves and sharp jerks of Seto’s hand. “Can we go back now? I want to eat dinner and maybe go home for a little…something…more…”

The smirk that settled on Seto’s lips was purely predatory and sent another bout of shivers down Jou’s spine. He reached back – the other hand still steadfast on the handle – and rubbed a slow, lazy line down the inside of Jou’s thigh.

“Only if you indulge me for a little bit,” he replied, voice strangely breathy. “Give me a hug.”

Jou debated on arching an eyebrow and telling the genius in front of him that they weren’t exactly in the right position for hugs. In the end, he merely gave a mental shrug and reached forward, clasping both hands around Seto’s chest and plant a little kiss on the nape of his neck for good measure.

“Happy now?”

Seto graced him with a slow smile. “Do you still want me to take you back?"

“Of course.”

“Then tell me you love me.”

Jou let out a little chuckle of amusement, inwardly pleased that Seto would ask such a thing. He’d never bothered to hide his feelings before – he’d told Seto that he loved him, many times over without him having to ask. Maybe Seto just needed a little reassurance…or maybe the egotistical brunette needed someone to toot his horn.

“I love you, Seto. I’ll continue to love you, forever and ever, no matter what happens.”

Seto smiled a strange, quirky smile, and responded with, “Can you do me one last favor, then? Take off this helmet and put it on yourself. It’s bothering me and itches horribly.”

Jou rolled his eyes, but did what he was told nonetheless, making sure to secure the clasp. “I’ve done what you told, you conniving bastard. Now take me home before I decide that you’re enjoying this way too much and withhold sex.”

Seto laughed. “As you wish."

Excerpt from the Domino Dispatch:

“Seto Kaiba, 19, CEO of the multibillion dollar gaming corporation died late last evening in a car crash due to brake failure. Experts believe that the brakes were intentionally damaged, but no suspects have been found. Kaiba is survived by boyfriend of five months, Katsuya Jounouchi, 18, who narrowly missed death by protection of his helmet. Jounouchi was rushed to the hospital after the accident and left earlier this morning a little worse for the wear, but nothing was life threatening.

Kaiba left Kaiba Corporations and the rest of his assets to his younger brother, Mokuba Kaiba, and boyfriend Katsuya Jounouchi…” </div>

FICLET: Just A Boy

2006-08-30T02:30:25Z

Title: Just A Boy
Author: chervil
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Harry Potter / Severus Snape
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It seems as if Potter's hair is perpetually messy.
Disclaimer: The story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Written for: 30_breathtakes theme #1 - wind in your hair

It seems as if Potter's hair is perpetually messy.

Snape remembers the very first time he saw those unruly strands, billowing in the wind as an elusive Potter flitted after an equally slippery snitch. He vividly recalls the exhilarated flush to Potter's cheeks, the pleased glimmer in his eyes, and the erratic rhythm of his chest as his fingers wrapped lovingly around the golden ball. Potter was just a boy then, brimming with youthful innocence.

He remembers those disorderly tresses, cradling Potter's rosy face in their exquisite embrace, as he yelled at the boy, spittle flying, and insisted that yes, aconite and monkshood and wolfsbane were all indeed one and the same. The boy was as harebrained as ever, and fixed those coruscating emerald eyes on him, refusing to yield. Potter was still just a boy then, teeming with adolescent ideals, and Snape let him escape relatively unscathed.

He can never hope to forget those raven locks, spiraling and gyrating along with the sinuous motions of Potter's body as Potter eluded the dozens upon dozens of perilous curses slung his way. It seemed as if Potter's hair always kept up the consistent dance, eternally intricate and alluring and ethereal, even as the Boy Who Lived wrangled his way to Voldemort, with blazing eyes and fluttering hair, to end the Dark Lord's reign in one final, triumphant blaze of glory. Snape realized that Potter was not just a boy then, and had never been a boy, for he had never had a chance to be one.

After The War--for it deserves all the significance they can afford--Snape found himself settling into a routine. It was during those evenings that it dawned on Snape that Potter's hair could never, ever simply stay flat--those evenings when they drew their tattered robes around tattered bodies and languidly sipped amber liquid from crystalline glasses. They rarely spoke, but that was fine, for Snape wasn't sure of what to say to the Boy Who Never Was A Boy. He chuckled at that--another nickname to tag to the reluctantly famous teenager--and Potter looked up from the book in his hands, eyes questioning and hair rippling. Snape merely stared back at him, arching a sardonic brow, and after a moment, Potter turned back to his book, a secretive smile lingering about his lips. Snape forced himself to tear his gaze away from the boy, and futilely reminds his treacherous mind that Potter was still just a boy, albeit one with more experience and wisdom than many older than him.

On those lonely days by the fire, he finds himself reminiscing on That Day, and yes, it deserves as much recognition as The War. He relives the exact moment in which Potter uttered that guttural sound of impatience and dissatisfaction and dropped his book on the floor in favor of intertwining his fingers in Snape's lank, greasy hair to pull him into a kiss. Snape murmured an inarticulate complaint, but it was swallowed by Potter's feverish mouth and after that attempt, he just couldn't bring himself to care. So his hands slithered upwards into Potter's hair, twisting and caressing and wrenching, all at the same time, and Snape stopped thinking that Potter was still just a boy.

And, of course, as Snape lies with Potter in his arms and between his sheets, he idly glances at Potter's hair. The strands are darkly slick with sweat and flush against the boy's head. He feels his lips curving into an oddly sanguine smile, and knows with absolute certainty that Potter will never be still just a boy to him again.</div>