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100quills Teenyfic: It's You
Title: It’s You
Author:![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
angela_snape
Pairing: Bill/Neville
Word Count: 428
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 50.3
Prompt: Unknown
Warning(s): None that I am aware of
A/N: Follows Reverie and Revelation. Thanks toeeyore9990 for the title suggestion, and the ladies in chat for the feedback & suggestions. *smooch*
Disclaimer Belongs to JKR, not me. Just for fun.
Fear of the unknown had struck Neville at several points in his life. The summer he'd turned eleven, waiting for his Hogwarts letter – hoping one would actually arrive – kept him up nights and had Neville constantly hearing owls' wing-beats that weren't there. Flying to London on the back of a Thestral, heading for the Department of Mysteries, Neville prayed that he'd be of some help to the rest of Dumbledore's Army and not the inept bumbler he'd always thought he was. Reaching his hand into the Sorting Hat, not knowing – but hoping – that he would pull out Godric Gryffindor's sword from it so that he could kill Nagini and help end the fighting.
“It's a him.”
The simple phrase seemed to hang in the air between them, and at first, Bill said nothing. After an agonizing moment when Neville was certain that Bill would ridicule him and call him a freak, the easy grin that had been making frequent appearances at their curriculum meetings returned, and he said, “Alright. Well, now, we have the first half of term mapped out, and a teaching schedule for who's doing which lecture...”
As Bill talked, Neville watched: the way his lips formed each word; the crinkles at the corners of his eyes that deepened when he smiled; the silvery scar tissue that marred his cheek but didn't detract from his attractiveness. Desire began to coil low in Neville's belly as he imagined Bill's lips on his, and wondered what Bill would do if he reached out to touch his scars.
“I've lost you again,” said Bill.
Neville blushed – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately – and nodded mutely at Bill.
“Everything okay?” asked Bill.
Neville hardly felt his own head moving as he shook it, side-to-side, afraid to utter even a single syllable for fear of stuttering again. He slumped against the counter he’d been standing beside, feeling as though a Jelly-Legs Jinx had hit him.
Bill took a step towards Neville, and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. Bill was close enough now that Neville could smell him – a hint of spice from his aftershave mixed with soap and a scent that was pure Bill. Neville took a slow, deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out again. The act calmed him – a trick he’d learnt from a yogi in India when he’d been there on a field study course – and he reached up and cupped Bill’s cheek. Neville tipped his head up a little and pressed his lips to Bill’s.
“It’s you.”
Author:
angela_snapePairing: Bill/Neville
Word Count: 428
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 50.3
Prompt: Unknown
Warning(s): None that I am aware of
A/N: Follows Reverie and Revelation. Thanks to
eeyore9990 for the title suggestion, and the ladies in chat for the feedback & suggestions. *smooch*Disclaimer Belongs to JKR, not me. Just for fun.
Fear of the unknown had struck Neville at several points in his life. The summer he'd turned eleven, waiting for his Hogwarts letter – hoping one would actually arrive – kept him up nights and had Neville constantly hearing owls' wing-beats that weren't there. Flying to London on the back of a Thestral, heading for the Department of Mysteries, Neville prayed that he'd be of some help to the rest of Dumbledore's Army and not the inept bumbler he'd always thought he was. Reaching his hand into the Sorting Hat, not knowing – but hoping – that he would pull out Godric Gryffindor's sword from it so that he could kill Nagini and help end the fighting.
“It's a him.”
The simple phrase seemed to hang in the air between them, and at first, Bill said nothing. After an agonizing moment when Neville was certain that Bill would ridicule him and call him a freak, the easy grin that had been making frequent appearances at their curriculum meetings returned, and he said, “Alright. Well, now, we have the first half of term mapped out, and a teaching schedule for who's doing which lecture...”
As Bill talked, Neville watched: the way his lips formed each word; the crinkles at the corners of his eyes that deepened when he smiled; the silvery scar tissue that marred his cheek but didn't detract from his attractiveness. Desire began to coil low in Neville's belly as he imagined Bill's lips on his, and wondered what Bill would do if he reached out to touch his scars.
“I've lost you again,” said Bill.
Neville blushed – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately – and nodded mutely at Bill.
“Everything okay?” asked Bill.
Neville hardly felt his own head moving as he shook it, side-to-side, afraid to utter even a single syllable for fear of stuttering again. He slumped against the counter he’d been standing beside, feeling as though a Jelly-Legs Jinx had hit him.
Bill took a step towards Neville, and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. Bill was close enough now that Neville could smell him – a hint of spice from his aftershave mixed with soap and a scent that was pure Bill. Neville took a slow, deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out again. The act calmed him – a trick he’d learnt from a yogi in India when he’d been there on a field study course – and he reached up and cupped Bill’s cheek. Neville tipped his head up a little and pressed his lips to Bill’s.
“It’s you.”
*hugs*