fic that is currently in my notebook

[bedlamsbard]

The blow between his shoulders sends Danny to his knees, abused flesh screaming protest when it contacts the rough cement floor, even through the negligible protection of his jeans.

He hurts. Everything everywhere hurts, even places he didn't know he could hurt.

Another hand on the back of his neck forces his head down against the floor and he whimpers a protest of pain before he can think. His breath stutters against the floor; Danny can hear the harsh sound echoing back into his own ears.

Someone grabs his hair and pulls his head up. From this angle he can see Crazy Carl Lisardo clearly, crouched down in front of him with his elbows balanced on his knees. "You should have known I'd find you sooner or later," he says. "Nobody can hide forever, not when they've got me looking for them."

One of the men behind Danny slaps a gun into his open palm. Carl racks the slide once and smiles. "Louie," he says, "you ran fast, but not far enough."

-

On his way to the bar, Danny tried to keep from staring at the subway walls and twitching by thinking of all the things he'd say to Louie when he saw him. How the hell did you fuck up this time? topped the list.

That in mind, it was a surprise to both of them that the first thing out of Danny's mouth was, "What the hell did you do to your hair?"

Louie patted down the bleached blond mess nervously, looking sheepish. "Hiya, Danny," he said. "Goodta see you too."

This time Danny managed to tear his eyes away from the hair and toward the face beneath. "Louie!" he said, finally hitting the Note of Righteous Indignation he'd been looking for. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't come home and try for a drink with my brother now?"

"You have a nefarious purpose," Danny snapped. "You have to have a nefarious purpose. You always have a nefarious purpose! I'm not giving you money this time, Louie."

"Christ, you've gotten a stick up your ass ever since you went straight."

"Christ, you've gotten to be more of a jerk than ever since you left town," Danny scowled. "C'mon, Louie, what'd you do, fall in a vat of bleach?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time." He fingered the ends of his hair thoughtfully. Danny could hear the bleach crunch. "C'mon, twin, at least I don't look like you anymore."

"No, now you look like a me that's gone and fallen into a vat of bleach." Danny threw his hands up, frustrated. "Christ Jesus, Louie, what are you doing here?"





Harry's ears are ringing with Snape's words as he climbs the steps to number twelve Grimmauld Place's second floor. It's a pity you're not more like your father, Potter. He and Black were...quite the pair. But you wouldn't know what that's like, would you? Weasley's no Sirius Black.

There's an innocent explanation, Harry tells himself as the stairs creak under his weight.





Sirius leaned in close to James and whispered, "Bet I can make you scream."

James flushed. "Bet you cant," he said, but his voice trembled slightly as Sirius slid his hand up from James's knee, the movement hidden by the table.

Sirius's lips brushed his ear. "Bet we can make Snivellus forget his widdle baby potion."

"Bet I can make you forget Snivellus." James ran his foot up Sirius's ankle.

Sirius's hand stopped on James's thigh and began stroking tiny circles. "Bet I can make you forget Evans."

"Bet we can make Sluggy blush." He shuddered as Sirius licked a long stripe across one cheekbone.

Sirius's hand drifted sideways. "Oh," he said, sounding delighted. "Bet I can make you scream."

"You're about to make me scream," Remus said pointedly, leaning forward and poking James with the tip of his wand. "No. Just...no. We're making the Draught of Living Death, not Amortentia."

Sirius squeezed James's knee softly and leaned back, shaking his hair back from his face. "Prude," he teasted.

"No, I just don't want to see you two in detention again."

"Aw, he loves us," James said.

Slughorn waddled over, looking in their cauldrons. "Boys, you haven't even started yet! You'd better hurry up if you want to finish before class ends. Miss Evans has already created a perfect Draught of Living Death." He waved hte flask in his hand enthusiastically and moved on.

Sirius scowled.





It took Flack approximately 1.287 seconds to realize that no, Toto, he wasn't in Kansas anymore. Or New York City, as the case was. Well, he could have still been in New York, but this wasn't what's-his-face's apartment unless he'd had a small mansion hidden in his closet.

Also, he had a killer headache that definitely hadn't been there five minutes ago when Danny had gotten the hinges off the door.

Also, a demon with a mass of brown curls, huge yellow eyes, and a blowtorch was staring at him.

Flack screamed.

A black hand clamped down over his mouth before he could get out more than a squeak and a familiar voice asked, "Where the hell did he come from?"

The yellow eyes resolved into goggles and went up over the brown curls, revealing Stella's face, wide-eyed and with the blowtorch roaring bright blue flames dangerously close to Flack's nose. "You're the smart one, Hawkesy! Isn't it your job to figure that out?"

Hawkesy?

Hawkes held up his free hand. "Sweetcheeks, I'm just here to blow stuff up and you know it."

Sweetcheeks? Either he was in a parallel dimension or hallucinating, and unless someone got naked real soon this hallucination was going to go somewhere Flack didn't like. "Mmmpphhgh," he said.

Disappointingly, Stella showed no sign whatsoever of taking off any part of her clothes. None of which she had been wearing five minutes ago, none of which was any part whatsoever of her NYPD dress uniform. Not that Flack had ever thought of Stella in her dress uniform.

Or with a whip. And handcuffs.

Flack bit down on Hawkes' hand. Hard. Which had the unfortunate effect of forcing it directly into the flame of the blowtorch and Hawkes let go abruptly. "Bloody --!"

Flack skittered sideways. "What the hell's goin' on here, huh? Huh? Stel?"

Hawkes, sucking on his injured hand, glanced up at Stella. "You know this guy, sweetcheeks?"

"I have never seen him in my life." Stella glared at him, blue flames still roaring around her face. "And I'm busy here. We have a very limited window and I'm not letting some hotshot interloper -- Hawkes, just watch him, we can take him with us as soon as --"

"Kidnapping's a capitol crime, that's probably not a --"

"He popped out of a mirror!" Stella said. "Window! Limited! Drugs! Wear off! Danny, how are we looking on time?"

Flack glanced around. Danny was nowhere in sight and he'd never seen this place in his life. Nice study though. Kind of like the things you found on the Upper West Side, when he'd worked cases there.

There was a crackle like static and Danny's voice came through, tinny and a little distorted. "Stel, my readings got all thrown off for a minute there. Somethin' happen? You blow a fuse or somethin'?"

Stella looked at Flack. "You could say that," she said. "How much time? Have you heard anything from Aiden yet?"

"Aiden should be talkin' to you herself, 'f you give her a minute or so. Fifteen, twenty minutes, so finish up fast. None'a your guilt-trippin', Stella."

"What do you mean guilt-tripping, Danny-boy?"

"Stel, I've known you for how many years now? I know whose house you're in, honey."

"Daniel Valentine Messer, if you ever call me that again I will skin you with your own computer keys."

"Er," Danny said. "Middle names. That sounds painful. I'm, um...going now..."

"Smart boy," Hawkes said. "In a temper like this --"

"Stella Bonasera, I am never, ever, ever doing the Mata Hari thing for you again!"





When James wakes up Sirius is sprawled out next to him on top of the sheets, eyes half-closed as he does the crossword on the Daily Prophet upside down with a quill that keeps dripping ink onto his t-shirt. He doesn’t seem to notice, but maybe that’s because he’s busy scratching in Alohomora for “invented by R. Turpin in 1732 during his foray in Woodford, Essex.”

James leans over his shoulder and twists his head to look at the crossword. “The next one’s ‘essence of wormwood’,” he tells Sirius sleepily. “Remember? Slughorn told us about it the other day.”

Sirius scrawls it into the curving boxes and throws the paper and quill aside. “Morning, Prongs,” he says and rests his chin on top of James’s head.

“Mmph,” James replies and bites down hard on the curve of Sirius’s neck.

Sirius hisses a swear and grabs for his wand to charm the curtains closed around James’s bed, then twists around until he’s lying on top of James. “Wait –” he says, and slides a hand under the back of James’s neck so that he can kiss him. James arches up against him, teeth sliding along his lower lip, and wraps his legs around Sirius’s waist.

“Good morning,” Sirius says against his mouth. James just groans and wraps arms and legs tighter against him like the giant squid, moving his mouth to kiss his way down Sirius’s neck. He slides the ankles up the back of Sirius’s thighs and Sirius swears again.

“Like this?” James whispers. He shoves one hand down the front of Sirius’s pajama pants and strokes
. “What about it, Pads?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sirius says and shoves James’s shirt up to run his hands up his best friend’s chest and tweak at his nipples. James arches upwards into his hands and they wrap around each other, a sweaty tangle of limbs and skin and clothes that are getting shed more or less absent-mindedly. They move against each other, rubbing and kissing, and Sirius can’t stop swearing, not when James does that with his tongue and his hands and oh.

After, they lie wrapped around each other, Sirius’s mouth pressed against James’s wild black hair.

“I was thinking,” James says, his voice sleepy again. “You could come over to my place for Christmas again. What d’you think?”

Sirius raises his head to frown at James. “What about your parents?”

“They like you. Or I could stay here.” He suggests this last with a wicked gleam in his hazel eyes, strangely bare without his glasses, like he’s daring Sirius to say yes.

Sirius has never been able to say no to James, and the Potters’ house is so much warmer than Grimmauld Place. “All right,” he says, and lowers his head to nuzzle at James’s neck. “All right, I’ll go home with you.”



Look, I never said they were finished. Tomorrow: more HP: Oliver/Cedric, Harry/Draco post-war.

Comments

Twins?

[(Anonymous)]

Danny and Louie as twins? Oooh. Nice. :)

Re: Twins?

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

I thought it would be. Alas, I have been jossed by the great CBS god in the sky, but I still think it would have made a cool story had CBS decided to go that way.