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FIC: Un Crimine in Tre Atti (Roger/Blaise, R)
Title: Un Crimine in Tre Atti (A Crime in Three Acts)
Fandom: Harry Potter (barely :|)
Pairing: Roger/Blaise (hints of Blaise/Theodore)
Rating: R
Word Count: 350 words
Summary: Il Seduzione. La Relazione. Il Tradimento.
Additional Notes: Because things sound better in another language, hee. Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ccharlotte, though most of the inspiration for it came from her too. :P Happy Birthday! Here's to more random plotting, Roger and Blaise, growing old!, and eee, graduating and grad school! (See you in August! :D:D:D)
Atto I: Il Seduzione
It starts with a playful comment, like it always does. It follows through with a wink here, another smirk there, like it always has. But his eyes linger a second longer and you catch him then, and where you would not have pushed, you do.
(Cat-got-the-mouse grin, voice lowered to a murmur.) "Like what you see?"
Where he might have backed out, he doesn't.
(Tongue wetting full lips.) "Maybe."
Where you meant to keep your distance, you don't.
(Hips now dangerously close, lips moving against his ear.) "But you do, don't you?"
Where he would have said no--
(The softest, traitorous hitch of breath.) "Goddammit, Roger."
He doesn't.
*
Sosta A
His skin pulses hot with blood, flushes desperately against your hands, pinned to the wall back arching hips thrusting lips moaning si si-- you kiss.
Si.
*
Atto II: La Relazione
There is a line, and you've crossed it-- once that first night, many more after. You fuck him in your bed, wedding ring glistening from the chain that hung round his neck. He comes hard, moaning your name.
You meet him again, fuck him again, in places with higher chances of being found, of being caught--a stolen kiss when you visit him at work, a quick fuck on their bed while he is home alone.
You do not care.
One night he hesitates, and you pull him back to bed. He stays the night-- it's another line you've crossed.
You will not apologise for it.
*
Sosta B
He doesn't meet your eyes-- you growl, touch rough lips harsh grip tight skin marked yours yours yours.
"Does he fuck you too?" you ask agan.
"...No."
*
Atto III: Il Tradimento
It cannot end when he sleeps tucked against you, not when your feet play beneath the table over coffee, not when he slips his fingers between yours. You don't want it to end, not when you've developed a taste for his lime sherbet, his blackberry tea, not when he's agreed to watch your games.
(Words softly murmured, question quiet.) "Stay?"
You don't see how it can end.
(Smile sad, barely-heard sigh.) "He'll ask where I've been."
You don't want to push it.
(Subtly pleaded, pleadingly whispered.) "Stay forever."
You don't know if it can--
(Wordless, startled gasp, eyes flickering to hold your gaze.)
But that's how it begins.
Fandom: Harry Potter (barely :|)
Pairing: Roger/Blaise (hints of Blaise/Theodore)
Rating: R
Word Count: 350 words
Summary: Il Seduzione. La Relazione. Il Tradimento.
Additional Notes: Because things sound better in another language, hee. Written for
ccharlotte, though most of the inspiration for it came from her too. :P Happy Birthday! Here's to more random plotting, Roger and Blaise, growing old!, and eee, graduating and grad school! (See you in August! :D:D:D)Atto I: Il Seduzione
It starts with a playful comment, like it always does. It follows through with a wink here, another smirk there, like it always has. But his eyes linger a second longer and you catch him then, and where you would not have pushed, you do.
(Cat-got-the-mouse grin, voice lowered to a murmur.) "Like what you see?"
Where he might have backed out, he doesn't.
(Tongue wetting full lips.) "Maybe."
Where you meant to keep your distance, you don't.
(Hips now dangerously close, lips moving against his ear.) "But you do, don't you?"
Where he would have said no--
(The softest, traitorous hitch of breath.) "Goddammit, Roger."
He doesn't.
*
Sosta A
His skin pulses hot with blood, flushes desperately against your hands, pinned to the wall back arching hips thrusting lips moaning si si-- you kiss.
Si.
*
Atto II: La Relazione
There is a line, and you've crossed it-- once that first night, many more after. You fuck him in your bed, wedding ring glistening from the chain that hung round his neck. He comes hard, moaning your name.
You meet him again, fuck him again, in places with higher chances of being found, of being caught--a stolen kiss when you visit him at work, a quick fuck on their bed while he is home alone.
You do not care.
One night he hesitates, and you pull him back to bed. He stays the night-- it's another line you've crossed.
You will not apologise for it.
*
Sosta B
He doesn't meet your eyes-- you growl, touch rough lips harsh grip tight skin marked yours yours yours.
"Does he fuck you too?" you ask agan.
"...No."
*
Atto III: Il Tradimento
It cannot end when he sleeps tucked against you, not when your feet play beneath the table over coffee, not when he slips his fingers between yours. You don't want it to end, not when you've developed a taste for his lime sherbet, his blackberry tea, not when he's agreed to watch your games.
(Words softly murmured, question quiet.) "Stay?"
You don't see how it can end.
(Smile sad, barely-heard sigh.) "He'll ask where I've been."
You don't want to push it.
(Subtly pleaded, pleadingly whispered.) "Stay forever."
You don't know if it can--
(Wordless, startled gasp, eyes flickering to hold your gaze.)
But that's how it begins.