... Why Was My Another Talk?

A Life and Thousands Miles August

Title: A Life and Thousands Miles August
Author:

nefene
Beta :

acardia17
Fandom: Harry Potter
Paringa / Characters : Ted Lupin / James Potter Sirius
Rating: NC17 (or pushed R)
Warnings: slash! Sex descriptive, post the 7th book including the epilogue
Genre: Romance / Introspective
Disclaimer: the characters are not mine, and this story is not is for profit. Just pure fun and healthy
Summary: James, the London fog, a few numbers, and too many thoughts.
Words: about 1400
Note: the birthday of the

duedicoppe and

elthefirst ♥ ♥ ♥
A megagrazie to acardia17 , without which even the non-public list of spesaXD Thanks my darling \u0026lt;3 And thanks to

appletree79 who saved me at the last minute with the title! ♥

And to all, happy reading \u0026lt;3

The story Nocturne Alley: http://www.nocturnealley.org/viewstory.php?sid=6029&warning=11

;

Life and A Thousands Miles August

When I run, just run.
In theory in a vacuum.
Or vice versa, it is also possible that I run to catch up the gap.
[Haruki Murakami, "The art of running"]

The burning throat, and lungs, the cold air of early morning.

the cold and drizzle to puncture the skin and penetrates the bones. He wonders if just to wash the smell of sex still feels on your body. A clear footprint of the bed just before he left, stealthily, like a stranger met at the pub and dragged home to the casual sex without commitment.

No , knows that is not enough. It penetrated too deeply within him because those drops impalpable can find it.

Increase the speed of their steps, leaving the surrounding gray London fog, feeling like an outsider observer of the atmosphere of calm and crystallized lethargy enveloping the neighborhood.

There are five blocks away from the apartment where he lives and the nearest park. The anonymous-looking buildings in the outskirts - no elevator, with a few windows, facades greyed wear and pollution, and stench spicy the take-away corner to soak the interior - looking houses become ordained. Small gardens with roses and boxwood bushes. Blinds and curtains colorful crochet.

knows by heart, these identical sequences, such as a printed map to focus the mind. The faint light of a sleepy cafe with a few customers, the newsstand with newspapers just arrived, the barking of a dog in the distance, a few cars at irregular intervals.

His panting is the only constant noise in that cold Monday in January - and others gasped sighs are in his mind, ghosts something that would tighten, hold, claim. But he can not.

hour of racing. Thirteen kilometers.

Every day, every month, every season. A bizarre punishment designed to Hogwarts at the time by his father - tired of yet another recall for its unruly exuberance - had become a habit. An outburst daily.

Distances are constant . He has taken to calculate the morning in the morning, and with them to count the steps, the days of his life. As if the casino crowds and senseless that its existence could make up some numbers with a little 'of apparent order. Teddy is convinced that he would laugh, if you know, running a hand through his hair matted. Leaning for a kiss when they were alone.

He can not imagine himself without his warm gaze, his smile, those big hands on his skin, his gentle ways and at times a bit 'sharp. And everything hurts, but it would be worse if there were.

was seimilaseicentonovantacinque kilometers before he Teddy and they kissed for the first time. It can not even think about it now without feeling a shiver through while walking along the fast asphalt pavement hard.

A kiss so initially, the flavor of Butterbeer and Firewhiskey of freedom after the end of the school, parted lips and half-closed eyes - the eyes of Ted uncertain investigator. And his legs trembled, while the mind refused to believe it, thinking it was true that had happened, finally .

But the cold wall behind his back was more than real, as was the smell of piss and garbage in the alley behind the pub, or the excitement of Ted pressing against his thigh. There was drowned in that kiss, filling the hands of locks of hair, mouth and skin and blood of bites, while the other gave himself up to him.

There was immersed in the illusion. We had believed - even though Ted's eyes were widened, staring, and he found himself gasping and then watched Disapparate, leaving him alone with his lips still red and moist, the heart in turmoil, his taste on the tongue. Why wanted always , and was no longer a child attached to the trousers of a kind of bigger cousin.

Seimilacinquecentocinquantatré miles before he shook hands with Ted under a table at a dinner Potter, caressing the fine lines that were woven into the palm, and the streets that hardened skin - an act childishly secret that had demanded with malicious bullying. Not seen him that day, and spent the time to think, want, imagine to tighten it against a wall and shouting you want, I want to.

But Teddy had moved away the hand with a gesture, and scared, and then avoid his gaze for the rest of the evening. After dinner had gone murmuring unavoidable commitments, and he was left in that living room, stunned and motionless, while the seeds of bitter knowledge made its way inside him.

A week later Teddy told him he had taken to hanging out with Victoire, and that James had pretended to be fine. Because he saw in his eyes the fear and the desire to be normal . Along with all those things - respectability, marriage, adoption, children - that he was not able to give him.

He was lying for months in that strange and distorted their friendship as if nothing had happened. Why was fine, they were. He could not help it.

And then, tremilaottocentotrentacinque miles before they had made love for the first time. Teddy had bumped into the furniture of the kitchen, tired of her yet another provocation, the latest in a series of reckless and malicious digs with which he was tormenting him in recent times, when the frustration, jealousy, would not let him breathe. And then she kissed the cold, brutal. He had violated his mouth furiously, rubbing against his teeth and hold it against the corner behind his back.

James replied with equal violence and despair that kiss, then he slipped his hands under the shirt of Teddy, moaning in relief with his warm skin. He thought that Teddy would have taken up, holding it against the wall of the room, opening just inside the pants entrargli. And it would go well, did not mind the pain, if not stopped, not realized the error they were about to do, and that this would be the beginning of the end. Teddy Instead he had withdrawn from him for a moment, staring at him with eyes clouded by desire. He had not stopped: he had dragged into the room. The clothes scattered throughout the house, their naked on the bed, suddenly all that anxiety seemed to have vanished.

Teddy had covered his body with soft long kisses and caresses. They had not said a single word, uttering only a few sighs, and broken light, and one above the other relished the contact between their skin. Then Teddy had entered him up, gently, forcing him to look into his eyes and drown in his eyes so sweet and adoring, stifling her moans of pain with kisses and caresses continued. He had come into him, and James still could not forget the first time he experienced the feeling of that body which was lying on his sweaty and relaxed.

He loved sleeping in the arms of Teddy, feeling safe immersed in a protective warmth and then wake up feeling her warm breath against his ear asking him you hold me, hold me. Then he turned, drew him to himself, and interlock with one another, as he wove his fingers to his brown hair, and walked down the profile of his face with wet kisses and axons.

Ted's eyes were warm and friendly and the needy, and his gentle caresses hurt him every time as sharp edges, and that name, Victoire , remained solid and ignored like a wall of glass between them.

Teddy was in his eyes every time: sorry, forgive me, and in his hands every time it still has the will, of falling back, to cling to him again.

Frost in his lungs with each breath, the pulse deaf joints with every step on the sidewalk, holding up the pace of its distance.

There is a profile behind a window, a man who stares at him, while driving along a street flanked by elegant middle class houses. The figure burdened by too many pounds is confused in the gray morning. The cigarette between his fingers manifests itself in fleeting glints of orange. James stares cheeky, a wry smile on his face in vain, as it passes in front of the house, ignoring the pain in your tired feet from the asphalt and the veil that wet wet eyes.

A Life of miles before it was in love with Teddy. It is concerned that not enough never to return.

Finish.

... Why Was My Another Talk?

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