Dumbledore/Sirius
ah, dumbledog. a classic.
...
"Live in cave, Sirius. Live with your ex, Sirius. Stay in this fucking nightmare of a house, Sirius. And don't get me started on your role in my imprisonment!" Sirius laughs bitterly to himself—why is his first impulse always to laugh? "Why?"
There's a faint ripple in Dumbledore's stoic calm. "You remind me of someone," he says in that half-whispered way of his.
Sirius almost asks 'who?' But that isn't the right question. The right question is, "In what way?"
Dumbledore paces, avoiding. "You have a similar sort of... passion... daring..."
"Attractiveness?" Sirius supplies, trapping his gaze. "Are we actually similar, or do we just drum up similar desires?" Leaving his lips parted, he tilts his head and lets his eyes lick up Dumbledore's face. "Are you afraid of what I might do, or are you afraid of what you might do?"
Breath audibly ragged, pupils swallowing the icy blue of his eyes, he's got him now. Sirius has him, this relic of Wizarding power, in the palm of his hand. He cups his cheek, solidifying it, encouraged by the surprising softness of his beard to claim his lips.
cursed ship game
