Movies - Wolfstar - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 264 words - AO3
There’s a kick at the door, rather than a knock, and James takes two of the four plastic bags from Peter as he lets him in.
“Damn, Wormy, that’s a lot of snacks,” Sirius remarks.
“Got a bag for each of us.”
James gestures to the coffee table. “I got the beer.”
“A lot of beer,” Remus chuckles.
“Well, we’re going to be watching really long movies. Need to stay hydrated.”
“Need to pee a lot, more like.”
Sirius rolls his eyes. “Stop being a spoilsport.”
They all take their designated seats—Peter on the beanbag, James on the armchair, Sirius and Remus cuddled together on the sofa. The first Lord of the Rings film begins playing, and after only five minutes, Remus cannot focus on it, not with the way Sirius’ foot is rubbing against his leg under the blanket.
“Pads…not now,” he whispers in his ear.
“We’ve seen these films so many times now. We know them inside and out. Why should we not have a little fun?”
Peter shushes them, and one glance at each other is enough to make them silently giggle. Remus returns his attention to the TV, and not long later, his boyfriend has attached his lips to his neck. Biting his lips and digging his fingernails into his palms, he tries not to moan. He places a firm hand on Sirius’ thigh, which, in turn, makes him moan.
“Oh my God, get a room!” James exclaims.
“Need I remind you you’re in our flat?”
He huffs. “Next time, we’re doing our monthly movie marathon at mine.”
Vending - Nobelflower - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 250 words - AO3
Shaking herself dry like a wet dog, Alice heads inside, avoiding the puddles around the pool, not wanting to risk being severely mortified if she slips onto her clumsy arse. But she stops in her tracks as she approaches the vending machine, seeing the most gorgeous woman, with long, blond hair tied back in an elegant plait, a baby blue swimsuit revealing her tall pale legs.
The woman turns around after getting her drink to find her staring, wide-eyed and mouth slightly open, positive she looks ridiculous right this moment. “Err…can I help you?”
“No, I- uh, sorry. I'm just…you're very beautiful, you know.”
Her embarrassment of this situation immediately fades away when the woman smiles, her cheeks turning a stunning shade of pale rose.
“You are too,” she says. “I...like your freckles.”
“Thanks.” Alice looks down at the floor, unable to look into her mesmerising blue eyes as she admits, “I like your moles.”
“Thank you. I'm Narcissa.”
“What a lovely, unique name. I'm Alice.”
“Do you want to go sunbathe by the pool with me?” Narcissa asks, voice coming out a quiet, like she’s afraid someone would hear her flirting with a girl.
“I'm more of a swimmer actually.”
“Mind if I watch you swim then?”
“I'd love that,” Alice smirks and extends her hand, the two of them heading back outside, too preoccupied by her that she forgot about buying her own drink. Worth it, to feel Narcissa’s soft skin against her calloused fingers.
Lame - Marylene - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 294 words - AO3
“Girl, who are you trying to impress?” Mary asks, smiling as Marlene—usually so uncaring towards her appearance and throws on whatever is clean, regardless of if it matches or not—stands in front of the full-length mirror, fluffing her short, shaggy hair, applying some smoky eyeliner, smoothing out her brand new leather jacket. She has never looked so hot, which Mary absolutely hates her for. At least before, she could just convince herself that the reason why she didn’t confess her feelings was because they would never work aesthetically, and oh, how she loves her aesthetics. But now, with this new rockstar look of hers, she can’t blame such a trivial thing on her cowardice, not wanting to risk their friendship, risk losing the person who means the most to her.
“No one. Myself,” Marlene replies.
“That’s not no one then. You’re not no one.”
“Yeah, thanks…” She turns to face her, Mary’s heart skipping a beat as she gets a proper look at her. “Do- do you think- Do you think this would be enough?”
“Enough for what?”
“To get a girl’s attention. To be cool and exciting.”
“Babes, let me stop you there. You may look cool right now, but deep down, you’re so bloody lame, and you always will be. But that’s part of your charm, you know. That’s why I love you.”
“You love me?” Marlene asks.
“I- uh, yeah…” Shit, shit, shit. “I love all my friends.”
“Oh…yeah, I love all my friends too.”
She turns back to the mirror and sighs, shrugging out of her jacket as she mutters, “This is stupid.”
“No. No, it’s not. I’m sorry.”
“Just forget about it,” Marlene says as she stomps out the dorm. Well, that was just great, wasn’t it?
Seconds - Prongsfoot - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 360 words - AO3
James paces around the living room, watching the seconds tick by on the clock as his stomach twists in knots. What if this goes terribly wrong? What if his parents catch him, or the house elf? What if Regulus sabotages him? What if he never sees him again?
“James, honey,” his mum places a gentle hand to his shoulder, stopping him from his anxious movements. “Everything will be okay.”
“You can’t promise that,” he whispers, trying not to cry as he imagines the worst.
“No, I can’t. But Sirius is a smart, brave, resourceful young man, he will be okay.”
“Why don’t I make us all a nice warm drink while we wait?” his dad asks.
James just nods, though all he wants to do right now is scream at how unfair this situation is. Why does Sirius have to run away from his family at all? They should be the people who protect and love him the most, not cause him the most physical and psychological harm. They should not treat their own son so badly that his only option of survival is to run away in the dead of night.
He sits on the sofa between his parents as they wait. The clock strikes 1 am. Sirius should materialise through the fireplace opposite them any moment now. Any moment now. Minutes pass and his fears of the terrible things that may have happened to him grows exponentially.
“He’s late,” James says, voice shaky. “Thirty minutes. He’s thirty minutes late. What if-”
“No, what if’s,” his dad interrupts. “He’ll be here soon.”
“Hope is a truly powerful thing, my dear,” his mum adds.
Sighing, he throws his head back, staring at the ceiling and praying for the first time in his life. He prays that his best friend, his soulmate will arrive here safe and sound soon.
The fireplace crackles and James stands so fast black spots appear in his vision. He blinks and a clearly exhausted, disorientated Sirius collapses into his arms. The tears he’s been holding back all day finally spill over as he holds tightly onto him, vowing to never, ever let go off him again.
Indifference - Black Brothers - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 372 words - AO3
Sirius was furious at his brother, choosing the rest of their family’s side and staying with those people with such disgusting, appalling beliefs. His baby brother, who used to cry when he saw their parents mistreat him or Kreacher or would move worms of the pavement to the grass so people wouldn’t step on and kill it. That sweet, innocent kid with chubby cheeks, who used to follow him around like a puppy, is gone. He chose the wrong side. He chose their so-called family. He chose the dark side. He chose this new ‘Dark Lord’. He didn’t choose him.
But at the end of the day, he’s still his brother. His little brother. Sirius may disprove of his choices, he may not even like him anymore, but no matter what happens, he will always, always love him.
“Reg!” he calls out when walking aimlessly around the castle one evening and runs into his brother.
Regulus takes one look at him before immediately turning on his heels and walking back the way he came.
Sirius runs to catch up with him. “Look. I’m sorry for leaving you behind, but you know I had to get out of that place. I would have died one way or another if I stayed.”
“I don’t care, Sirius,” he replies coldly.
“I get it if you hate me, I just want you to know that I still love you.”
He sighs. “I don’t hate you. I don’t love you either. My feelings towards you…it’s just indifference.”
He deflates at that. That’s worse than being hated. Not caring in any capacity is worse than death being wished upon him.
“I- I love you, Reggie,” Sirius whispers, trying to stop his voice from cracking and the tears welling up in his eyes from spilling over.
“I don’t care, so just leave me alone.”
Since he started Hogwarts and left his brother at Grimmauld Place alone for a year, Regulus has been a brilliant liar, amazing at masking his emotions. And as he walks away from him, Sirius cannot tell whether his apathy is real or feigned. But something deep inside fears that his words were true. He fears that he has well and truly lost his baby brother.
Sick - Wolfstar - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 240 words - AO3
“Sirius, baby,” Remus says from the outside of his bed curtains, “let me help you. Please.”
“Go-” He coughs rather violently, “-away.”
He silently chuckles at the ridiculousness of his boyfriend—his confident, expressive, clingy boyfriend—being the one who refuses to let anyone see him sick. Whereas Remus, usually rather reclusive, is so exhausted when he gets a cold that he just wants to be looked after, he just wants to be held. Though that is not the case after a full, when he just wants to be left alone and forget about the monster he became the night before.
“I'm not going anywhere, Pads, so you might as well just let me take care of you.”
“But I'm all gross and phlegmy.”
“I don't care how disgusting you are. I love you and I want to help.”
This back and forth goes on until Remus finally mutters, “I made you some soup that my mum always makes me when I'm not feeling well.”
He hears a huff and feels the magic making the curtains immovable dissipate. Quickly, before he changes his mind, Remus slides onto his bed and hands him the container of soup.
“Thank you,” Sirius murmurs after a spoonful. “This is delicious.”
Once he finishes eating, Remus lies down and pulls the duvet over them.
“Moony, what are you doing? You’re gonna make yourself sick.”
He places a brief kiss to his clammy forehead. “Worth it.”
Friends - Peter Pettigrew - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 495 words - AO3
Peter has always struggled to make friends. He was too weird for the muggle kids in his town, and the few wizards there had already formed a friendship group that had no place for him. So, he spent the first eight years of his life only occasionally playing with his older sisters, though as they grew up, they had less and less time for him. They had their own friends and boyfriends, their own lives. Peter got used to being alone from a young age, playing with his toys, teaching himself chess, watching his mum tend to her garden and learning everything he could without bothering her.
But one day at the park, a boy with messy hair and a wide grin approached him and inquired about what he was doing. Peter could barely get a word out and merely pointed to the worm he found in the mud. He thought the other boy would run away, disgusted by him and his new buddy, instead he sat down and said, “I’m James. Can we be friends?”
“Hello, new friend. I’m Peter.”
From then on, the two of them were inseparable. They would play together every day, running around at the park, seeing who could climb a tree the fastest, telling ghost stories under the blanket during sleepovers. They were truly the best of friends.
All throughout their time at Hogwarts, they were beside each other’s side. They made new friends, had different hobbies, attended different clubs. But first and foremost, they were each other's first friend, and nothing could ever destroy their bond, nothing could ever tear them apart.
Everything changed when they graduated and signed up to fight on the frontlines of the losing side of a war. They knew they were joining the good guys; they were protecting the friends they had made at school who were not pureblood like them, and the millions of innocent people in the country. They were doing the right thing. Right?
But as the years went by, and their numbers were quickly dwindling, Peter didn’t know what to do. He loves his friends more than anything. Or, more than almost anything. Is he really that much of a selfish coward to put his own life above theirs? Above James’? Lily’s and baby Harry’s?
Peter stares into the mirror in his dimly lit bathroom, eyes bloodshot, dark bags underneath them, hair greasy. He looks a complete mess. He would do anything for this war to be over, to be able to live without looking over his shoulder every five minutes, to actually find joy in just being alive again. He would do anything to live, not fight, not merely survive. He would do anything, even kill the first friend he ever had, the only person he could ever truly be himself around, the boy who changed his life for the better. Peter despises himself, but if it’s a choice between his life and James’, he’d choose himself. Always.
Shiny - Moonwater - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 300 words - AO3
Shivering, Remus walks as quickly as his bad hip and knee would let him, mentally cursing himself for not bringing an umbrella. It’s England, for crying out loud. The weather doesn’t care that it’s the middle of summer, of course there would be a torrential downpour when he leaves the house wearing a thin t-shirt and not his usual jumper. But the shiny pavement brings him a little joy, seeing mini rainbows every few steps, until he finally makes it to his building. He looks into the mirror in the lift, hair dripping wet and sticking to his forehead, white top practically see through with how soaked it is. He can’t wait to step inside and relax in a really hot bath before cuddling his boyfriend underneath a fluffy blanket and drinking a warm cup of tea.
“Hi, baby,” Remus calls out as he closes the door behind him, finding little puddles in his trainers as he takes them off.
“I hope you didn’t get caught up in the rain,” Regulus says as he enters the living room of their flat, pausing when he catches sight of him.
“Yeah, I know. I look a right mess.”
“Take it off,” he rasps.
“What?”
“Take your clothes off. Now.”
“Why- Oh.” Remus chuckles at the idea of Regulus being turned on by his current state. “You know, my clothes are pretty tight right now. I could use a bit of help.”
Regulus steps towards him and lifts his top over his head, hands gently running over his bare chest, a shiver running down his spine at the sensation of his perpetually cold hands, before he slams his back against the door, kissing him with fervour.
Sod his bath and cuppa, this—Regulus, lips pressed against his—is all he wants right now.
