sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-15 10:50 am
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-15 10:50 am
Entry tags:
The Literal Game
Rating: R (James/Remus)
Summary: Remus and James play very interesting games.
Warnings: None.
Also available at AO3.
***
I have lost consciousness many times
with longing for your listening silence,
and your life-quickening smile.
-- Rumi
I was a simple bet, really -- they'd made hundreds like it in the past. Indeed, as their wagers went, it was pretty harmless; the worst was the time Peter lost a bet with Sirius and had to try to seduce Lily Evans, and got as far as second base. James didn't speak to him for two weeks.
So in terms of bets, it was nearly mild.
James was anxious about the House Cup game, sixth year. It was against Ravenclaw, and they'd been showing a distressing tendency towards strategy lately. James was no good at strategy, really. He was good at flying fast and seeing small golden balls and catching them. Strategy had never really entered into it. Now he was studying things like feints and dodges and generally feeling a bit intimidated.
So he'd made a bet with Remus, because Remus wouldn't let it slip like Sirius or Peter would (he thought), and betting on a game one was in wasn't really considered...well, a Gryffindor thing to do. Even if he was betting on winning.
"If I win, you've got to buy me Chinese next time we're in London. I keep smelling it whenever I go to Diagon Alley and you know, I've never tried it," James had said, one day, in the dormitories. He'd been slumped on his bed, a book on his chest, staring at the ceiling; Remus, only half-dressed (well, it was Saturday, after all) tilted his glasses down his nose.
"How can you never have eaten Chinese food?" he asked.
"Dunno. Aren't any magical take-away Chinese places, you know," James replied. "Not where I live. But if you win, I've got to buy you dinner anywhere you like. Expensive as you like."
"And wear makeup," Remus added. James glared. "What? It's motivation, remember? Clown makeup," he added. "You've got to take me to dinner as a mime."
"Remus, how can you look so sweet and innocent and yet house the soul of an elderly, cranky goblin in that cavity you call a heart?" James asked.
"Practice," Remus replied.
"All right. Deal. Good lord, just the thought of what Black would say is enough to scare me into catching that Snitch," James muttered.
And he had, of course. His friends never had any doubt he would. Remus, realising that he'd have to buy James a dinner, bet heavily on Gryffindor through Sirius and skewed the odds (Snape was keeping book) by letting slip that he was betting against James to the tune of an expensive dinner, though he didn't say who with.
Severus Snape, when he found out, was furious, but he'd made the odds after all, and he still kept a sizable profit either way, so the Gryffindors, as usual, paid him no mind. And Remus, for once, had enough money for new robes and books come fall.
It was summer before Remus could pay off his bet to James, though, and even then it wasn't as good as James had hoped. He'd wanted to drag Peter and Sirius along, too, but Sirius had got a job as groundskeeper for the first few weeks of summer, and Peter was off on holiday somewhere. So, it was just James and Remus as they slouched out of the Underground -- Remus didn't like traveling by floo, and anyway they didn't want to go to Diagon Alley itself.
James was surprised when Remus led him past the little take-away window near the Leaky Cauldron, down a side-path, and out onto another street entirely. He followed dutifully, however, wondering if this were some sort of ritual.
Eventually Remus stopped under a faded red sign in front of a tinted-glass window, and pushed the door open. James peered in.
"Go on, you great git, don't stand in the door," Remus said, giving him a poke in the back. James glared, but walked inside.
The restaurant was not crowded, but it certainly wasn't empty; a woman led them to a table spread with a crisp white tablecloth, and a man appeared instantly, bearing a teapot and two small cups. Remus, to James' surprised, ordered immediately; sweet and sour prawns, hot and sour soup, jiaozi, fried rice, and maotai.
"There's bound to be something you'll like," Remus said, pouring the tea. James was examining the chopsticks next to his plate. "You can use a fork, I won't make fun," he added, with a grin.
"How d'you know all this?" James asked. Remus shrugged.
"Spend a bit more time in the Muggle world than you do, don't I?" he said. "Had to. Dad used to drag me all over creation, talking to Muggle doctors about..." he looked down, and shrugged. "Well. You know."
James nodded.
"Anyway, he took me to this Chinese herbalist and we spent weeks seeing if there was anything he could do, and he taught me...oh, all sorts of things. Literal Game and a little bit about tea, and philosophy, and that. Quite enjoyed it. Didn't help my situation at all, but it was fun while it lasted. Didn't charge dad anything for it either, said it was nice to have a good student." Remus grinned. The man who'd brought their tea appeared at his elbow again, setting down two small stoneware cups, and a matching jug. James peered at it.
"And this," Remus said, reverently, filling the glasses, "is the reason we came here."
"More tea?" James asked.
"This is maotai. They import it specially. It comes from the Guizhou province -- I think it's made from wheat. And it is highly alcoholic," Remus said appreciatively.
James, hesitantly, watched as Remus picked up his glass, put his lips to it, and tilted his head back, swallowing once, smoothly. He set down the glass, upside down, to show that it was empty, and sipped his tea quickly. James watched a light flush creep across his face.
"Go on," Remus laughed. "Or don't, if you'd rather not. Thought you might enjoy it."
James picked up the glass. He'd had firewhiskey once or twice, with Sirius; he put the cup to his lips and drank.
Remus grinned as he swallowed twice, in quick succession, set the glass down (still a quarter-full), and gulped his tea, quickly.
"Bloody hell," James said. "Are you sure I won't go blind?"
"I haven't, yet," Remus replied. "And I've been coming here more or less every holiday since I was fifteen."
"And they served you?"
"Well, I usually come with dad, and he lets me, so I guess they figure it's not their responsibility," Remus shrugged. He watched with a smile as James downed the rest of the glass, with tea.
Talk turned to Quidditch, something that they always could discuss, if nothing more interesting was forthcoming. The Quidditch World Cup was happening soon, and James had won two tickets in a Daily Prophet contest. He was planning on going with his dad, but he promised to take thousands of pictures for Remus and Sirius and Peter, and bring them programs. When the food arrived, Remus began to explain what each was, and tried to teach James how to use the chopsticks, somewhat fruitlessly as it turned out.
"Dad and I play animal betting on ours," Remus said, pouring a second shot of the maotai for each of them. James looked intrigued.
"Animal betting?" he asked.
"Yes, it's like rock-paper-scissors. You tap your chopstick on mine and we each say a name. Insect bores stick; stick beats tiger, tiger eats -- " Remus sniggered. "Well. Rooster."
"Cock?" James asked, sipping tea to wash the burning sensation from the maotai out of his mouth.
"Yes, and cock pecks insect."
"Nice trick," James drawled, and they both laughed. "All right. All right. Tap. On three. One, two, three -- cock!"
"Tiger," Remus said promptly, over top of James. "Ha! You've got to do a shot."
"Since when?"
"Tradition."
"Bullshit," James replied, but he drank anyway, sputtering a little. He speared a dumpling on his fork and took a bite, while Remus deftly ate rice with his chopsticks. "So what else did this guy teach you?"
Remus grinned. "You're not ready to play Literal Game, James."
"Literal Game?"
"It is to animal betting what chess is to flipping a coin," Remus answered. "You make up a story by assembling quotations and proverbs and literary quotes, history, fairy tales. There was a Chinese poet named Bai Juyi who thought that it was more elegant and interesting than music."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Well, it's easy to do it, once you get the hang of it. Easy to do it badly, certainly. Doing it well is the challenge, especially after maotai. Though there's an ancient belief that alcohol improves art and poetry," Remus continued, deftly transferring a prawn covered in sauce to his mouth. "The way dad and I played it, the first time you say 'um', you have to pour a shot; the second time you have to pick it up; the third time you have to drink it."
"Anyone ever told you, your dad's a bit weird?" James asked.
"That's the maotai talking," Remus said, with a smile.
"All right then, Moony, lay some literal game on me," James challenged. Remus chewed his rice, thoughtfully.
"Euclid drew a circle on a sand beach long ago, and bounded and enclosed it with angles thus and so. His set of solemn greybeards nodded and argued much -- of arc and of circumference, diameter, and such. A silent child stood by them from morning until noon, because they drew such charming, round pictures of the moon," he began. "There once was a child who walked the beaches of the country in which he lived, an island you understand, best beloved..."
James laughed, recognizing an element of the Just So Stories, one of Remus' favourite books.
"...and in this country lived a man named Euclid, it was true, but this Euclid was the town fool, and um -- bugger." Remus picked up the jar and poured it. James saw him thinking quickly as he did so.
"This Euclid was the town fool," Remus continued, when he'd poured, "and his greybeards were a set of monkeys who would follow him about and beg food from him, which he in turn begged from the townspeople. Now one day he was begging on the beach when the child walked along the sands, and the child, having nothing to give him, promised to bring him the moon, if he could have one of Euclid's monkeys. Now the monkeys numbered three, and one was blind, and one was deaf, and one was, um -- "
James shook a finger. Remus, taking the opportunity to eat a few bites of dinner, lifted the cup and continued talking.
"And one was mute. Euclid, who believed the moon to be made of -- "
" -- green cheese -- " James chimed in with him, beginning to understand how this worked.
" -- precisely, green cheese -- decided that this was quite a good bargain, and gave him the monkey who couldn't talk, and the boy was somewhat happy. But of course eventually the town fool Euclid would come to collect, and um -- blast!"
Remus downed the drink, and continued on; James listened to the story, sampling the different foods on the table. He saw other patrons begin to listen in, and smiled, pleased to be part of the centre of attention. As he told the story, Remus had to down two more shots, the errors coming faster as he drank more of the maotai -- though to be fair, he was talking much slower. By the time he ended, with a crooked grin at James, between the two of them the small jar of alcohol was nearly empty.
"And that, o best beloved, is how the child who walked the beaches acquired the monkeys, and how Euclid became a wise man, and how the king of the island lost his gold tooth," Remus finished. James grinned, and clicked his chopsticks in appreciation.
"Brilliant, Moony," he said.
"That was bloody hard," Remus replied, drinking from his now-cold cup of tea, and finishing up the prawns. His voice slurred a little.
"Well, it was worth it. You'll have to tell Sirius that story, he'd like it," James added. Remus grinned, and signaled for the bill.
"Want to finish the maotai?" he asked. James accepted the last glass, downing it with a little more ease than the others.
They acquired a few take-away cartons for the rest of the food, and Remus paid the bill with peculiar, colourful Muggle money, while James packed the cartons into a paper bag.
"Right, might as well be going -- " Remus said, standing. Only James' lighting-fast reflexes prevented him from falling over; he caught Moony's arm, pulling him forward, and the brown-haired boy stumbled against him, laughing.
"Should not have let you lure me into playing Literal Game," he managed. "Definitely not with maotai."
"Can you walk?" James asked, steadying him. He wasn't feeling entirely steady himself.
"Technically," Remus replied, grinning at him. "Just a moment..."
He took a few deep breaths, straightened, and nodded. "Right. Lead the way."
"Mind you don't knock anything over," James said, pulling him through the now-crowded restaurant by the elbow. They seemed to manage all right until they turned the corner to pass down into the main street where the Leaky Cauldron was. When they turned, James stumbled into Remus, knocking them both into the wall.
"You see? No good can come of listening to you," Remus cried, pushing himself away from the wall and swaying a little.
"I'm not the one who ordered highly alcoholic Chinese beverages," James replied.
"Mind the corner," Remus said with a grin. James tugged him onward.
"Well, we can't go to my place, that's for sure," he said. "Mum would say you're a bad influence on me."
"So I am, so I am," Remus answered, leaning his head on James' shoulder. "Took you out, got you drunk, told you ridiculous faerie tales."
"Can't go to your place."
"Hah! Two hours south of here! I should think not!"
"Peter's mum would have fits."
Remus snickered into his collar. "Peter's mum would have kittens. And Sirius hasn't got a place..."
"He has," James protested. Remus managed to stand on his own, and looked at him inquiringly. "His great uncle or something. Jus' died. Left him a pile'a money and a..." he paused, for thought. "A flat," he said finally.
"Yeah?"
"He showed it to me. Little place. Nice kitchen. Really old furniture," James said grandly. "Not too far."
"Sleep it off?"
"Aye," James answered. "And we can leave him the leftovers. Payment, like."
"Brilliant. Lay on, Macduff!"
"What?"
"Don't make me explain, Prongs, I'm very drunk," Remus said, somewhat mournfully. James giggled, and pulled him along by his collar, out onto the street and towards the tube.
***
"What's the spell?"
"Olo something."
"Naw, s'not it."
"Alholo?"
"You just...lean there," James said, leaning Remus up against the wall outside the flat that Sirius had inherited. "Hope s'not magically locked. That'd be a drag."
"Alohomora!" Remus said, eyes closed, waving a hand elegantly. James pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the door.
"Holohoma!" he said. The door defiantly did nothing.
"You're buggering it up," Remus observed.
"Alohomo!"
"Alohomora," Remus said helpfully, coaching. James glared.
"Alohomoroa! Hah!" James exclaimed.
Nothing.
He groaned, and leaned against the door. Remus' hand slid over and jiggled the doorknob.
James almost fell over as the door opened inward. Remus let out a snort of laughter and followed him inside.
"Sirius gonna LIVE here?" he asked, catching himself on a hall table. "S'like a museum!"
James set the paper bag on the kitchen counter, and cast a chilling charm over it, without his usual deftness. Remus wandered into the living room, and dropped onto the couch, leaning his head back.
"Probably get rid of lots of stuff," James said critically. "Sirius doesn't strike me as the type to like a lot of...you know..." he gestured vaguely at a tapestry bearing the Black coat of arms.
"I love this couch," Remus declared. "I'm never moving."
"S'a nice couch," James agreed, settling onto it and looking around. Remus slowly toppled over. "Here, geroff me."
"Jamespillow," Remus mumbled, against James' thigh.
"No, no no. I am not pillow for a drunken werewolf," James protested.
"Shhhh!"
"Why?"
Remus laughed. "Dunno."
James leaned back, sinking deeper into the couch. It was an awfully nice couch, this much was true; Remus could sleep here, and he'd get up in a few minutes and find the bedroom. Or maybe he'd sleep just like this too.
He realised his hand had moved, and was smoothing Remus' hair, as if the boy was a dog -- haha, not a dog at all, that was Padfoot, Remus was a wolf, was dangerous...but his brown hair was pleasantly silky under James' fingers.
"Nice," Remus mumbled. James laughed.
"No more maotai for you," he scolded. Remus rubbed his cheek against James' leg.
"You're just jealous. Cos I tell better stories," he answered. He pushed himself up until he was facing James, cheeks flushed, hair slightly disordered from James' fingers. "D'you know what?" he asked.
"What, Remus?" James murmured, aware that Remus was a bit too far in his personal space, and that he was not unhappy about it.
"Next story I tell is gonna be about you," Remus said, nodding. "Once upon a time there was a boy named Prongs..."
James smiled. "You're drunk."
"...and he had beautiful hazel eyes," Remus continued. "And since he was a wizard he could cast all sorts of magic, o best beloved."
"What kind of magic?" James asked.
"All kinds. A sense of oceans and old trees evelops and allures him; tradition, touching all he sees, beguiles and reassures him," Remus quoted. "And so in the time of nineteen-seventy-six, when the schools were out and the games were done, this wizard named Prongs, um..."
"You said Um!" James laughed. Remus, still propped up, facing him, moved one hand and mimed pouring a cup. When he was done, he continued, brown eyes traveling over James' face until they fixed, slightly unfocused, on James' hazel ones.
"this wizard named Prongs decided to take a journey, and he needed a guide. And fortunately for him his magic eyes..." Remus lifted a hand, and tapped James on the temple, "had captured and tamed a wild wolf -- "
" -- named Moony!" James laughed.
"Named Moony!" Remus agreed. "And um -- dammit."
James watched as Remus lifted one hand, holding an imaginary cup. "And Moony said to James -- uh, to Prongs -- "
"Drink!" James said. Remus lifted the imaginary cup to his lips, and tilted it; when he leaned his head back, James could see the sharp edge of his jaw, the curve of his neck, and suddenly he caught his breath.
"Moony said to Prongs..."
"He had magic eyes," James said encouragingly.
"Magic hazel eyes," Remus corrected. He was very still, and very close; James reached out to fix a lock of his fine, tufty hair, and Remus closed his eyes.
"I'm tired," he said softly. "I don't want to tell this story anymore."
James bowed his head and felt Remus' breath, warm on his cheek; after a pause, he turned, slightly. His lower lip brushed Remus' mouth, and an almost electric shock ran through him.
"I want to know how the story ends," he said. Remus swayed forward, forehead pressing against James', lips on his.
"Moony said to Prongs, Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art," Remus breathed. "Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night..."
James' thumb, drifting over his cheekbone, made him shiver and stop, and gasp, softly.
"Got to drink," James murmured, and Remus pressed him back, moving to straddle him, lips warm, tongue exploring James' mouth hungrily. He tasted like the spicy food they'd eaten and a little like the maotai, and James didn't realise he was gripping Remus' shoulders until the boy tried to draw back, and couldn't.
He felt Remus take his wrists and lift his hands, leaning back slowly.
"Sorry," the other boy said, ducking his head. "Didn't mean that. Sorry..."
James, wrists still held in Remus' hands, drew his fingers down the line of his throat, over the collar of his shirt, flicking the buttons open. Remus watched his eyes, muzzily.
"James, what're you doing?" he whispered, trying to pull away, but James' fingers snared his shirt, holding him there. He could feel Remus' erection against his thigh.
"Dunno," James said, almost curiously, pulling Remus forward. He kissed his collarbone. "Feels good though."
"Prongs, please," Remus moaned. "Let me go."
"Mm, no," James decided, rubbing his jaw against the sensitive skin. "Tell me the story, Remus."
"Oh -- " Remus gasped for breath and released James' wrists, and James took the opportunity to wrap his arms around Remus' waist, securing him more firmly in place.
"Moony s-said to Prongs..." Remus moaned, softly. "If you travel with me you will regret it, for I am the wolf who walks by himself -- " a sharp intake of breath when James lapped at his nipple, gently, " -- and all placed are al-alike to me..."
James felt Remus clutch at his hair, desperately. "But Prongs would not listen to him -- umm -- "
"Drink," James said, bucking his hips once. Remus went silent. "Tell me the story, Moony."
"No...no..." Remus pulled away from his grip, sitting back. James cocked his head curiously.
"You know by now," he said quietly, stroking Remus' hair. "I always get what I want."
Remus looked him directly in the eye, and shook his head. "And Moony said to Prongs, oh best beloved..."
James stiffened, suddenly. Understanding began to creep through the fuzz in his brain.
"You?" he asked softly. "Me?"
Remus nodded, looking away. James could taste the want, the confusion -- could see how badly his friend wanted this, but...
"Best beloved," Remus murmured. "Everyone...everyone loves you. How could I not? I'm so sorry, James."
James grasped the open collar of Remus' shirt, and knew that the other boy was tensing to be -- to be hit, or perhaps thrown across the room.
Instead, he pulled him forward again, and kissed his lips -- gently. Remus, he thought, would have used the word 'chaste'.
Suddenly there were hands on his chest, a warm body moving against him, as Remus settled forward, deepening the kiss, tongue warm and slick against his own, breathless, eyes closed.
No more storytelling, James thought. And certainly no more games...
This was for real.
Remus nibbled his lip, ran kisses down his jaw, whined with frustration as he pulled the shirt from his shoulders, raked his fingers through James' untidy hair. And then slid his lips down, over James' adam's apple, his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, dropping to the floor and nuzzling the sensitive skin just above his belt.
James, fumbling, unbuckled it, and Remus' lips and hands and oh -- a cool rush of air followed by a warm...mouth...
"Not one for foreplay...are you?" he gasped. Remus moved his head, and there was cool air again, and a quite talented tongue, really...
"This is the foreplay," Remus murmured, voice vibrating against James' skin. James threw his head back and moaned, arms spread along the back of the couch (oh god this couch belonged to Sirius) and felt Remus' fingers dig into his thighs, his soft hair brush sensitive skin...
He gasped for air when Remus sat back, grinning unsteadily up at him, and rested his head on James' thigh.
"You finish the story," Remus said quietly. James, panting, pulled him up for a kiss, and stood. His head spun.
Remus was easing the trousers off his hips, and James hastened to do likewise; they kissed, explored, touched, standing so close that they could feel the pressure between their skin.
"Do you suppose Sirius would care -- "
" -- if we debauched his couch?" Remus asked, nibbling on James' earlobe.
"Decouchery," James said, and Remus snorted with laughter. He stroked a hand down James' cheek, and turned, dropping onto the couch. James looked down at him, hair touseled, brown eyes still unfocused from the drink, skin pale.
"Come here," he ordered softly, and James sank down, feeling the brush of hot skin as Remus wrapped an arm around his waist, rested his chin on his shoulder.
"Moony," James moaned, as Remus' other hand snaked around to stroke him. "Moony, how does this..."
"Shh. Trust me."
"Oh -- " James heard Remus murmur something low, in Latin, and felt a pressure and slickness and pain and then Moony was groaning, and the world shrunk to this body and hands and Moony inside him and touching him and oh god, Moony...
"Breathe," Remus whispered in his ear, hips moving against him, hands so deft, body so warm. James leaned his head back, trying and failing to do anything but gasp in short sharp cries, until Remus tensed underneath him and warmth filled him and the world, he felt sure, quite literally moved.
Remus' fingers danced across his stomach, lightly. He could feel the other boys' pulse, where his jaw rested against Remus' neck.
"My god," he managed, finally. Remus laughed against his skin.
"Good story?" he asked softly.
"Good story," James agreed. "M'cold though."
Remus nuzzled his shoulder. "Bet you there's a bed in this place." He kissed James' jaw. "Sleepy."
"You're drunk."
"You said that."
"Well, you are."
Remus laughed again. "Let's find that bed," he said, in a voice that made James' skin tingle.
END
Endnotes: Remus quotes many things in the Literal Game; among them Kipling's "Just So Stories", Vachel Lindsay's "Euclid" from "Poems about the Moon", Edwin Arlington Robinson's "Eros Turannos", and Keats' "Bright Star".
Summary: Remus and James play very interesting games.
Warnings: None.
Also available at AO3.
***
I have lost consciousness many times
with longing for your listening silence,
and your life-quickening smile.
-- Rumi
I was a simple bet, really -- they'd made hundreds like it in the past. Indeed, as their wagers went, it was pretty harmless; the worst was the time Peter lost a bet with Sirius and had to try to seduce Lily Evans, and got as far as second base. James didn't speak to him for two weeks.
So in terms of bets, it was nearly mild.
James was anxious about the House Cup game, sixth year. It was against Ravenclaw, and they'd been showing a distressing tendency towards strategy lately. James was no good at strategy, really. He was good at flying fast and seeing small golden balls and catching them. Strategy had never really entered into it. Now he was studying things like feints and dodges and generally feeling a bit intimidated.
So he'd made a bet with Remus, because Remus wouldn't let it slip like Sirius or Peter would (he thought), and betting on a game one was in wasn't really considered...well, a Gryffindor thing to do. Even if he was betting on winning.
"If I win, you've got to buy me Chinese next time we're in London. I keep smelling it whenever I go to Diagon Alley and you know, I've never tried it," James had said, one day, in the dormitories. He'd been slumped on his bed, a book on his chest, staring at the ceiling; Remus, only half-dressed (well, it was Saturday, after all) tilted his glasses down his nose.
"How can you never have eaten Chinese food?" he asked.
"Dunno. Aren't any magical take-away Chinese places, you know," James replied. "Not where I live. But if you win, I've got to buy you dinner anywhere you like. Expensive as you like."
"And wear makeup," Remus added. James glared. "What? It's motivation, remember? Clown makeup," he added. "You've got to take me to dinner as a mime."
"Remus, how can you look so sweet and innocent and yet house the soul of an elderly, cranky goblin in that cavity you call a heart?" James asked.
"Practice," Remus replied.
"All right. Deal. Good lord, just the thought of what Black would say is enough to scare me into catching that Snitch," James muttered.
And he had, of course. His friends never had any doubt he would. Remus, realising that he'd have to buy James a dinner, bet heavily on Gryffindor through Sirius and skewed the odds (Snape was keeping book) by letting slip that he was betting against James to the tune of an expensive dinner, though he didn't say who with.
Severus Snape, when he found out, was furious, but he'd made the odds after all, and he still kept a sizable profit either way, so the Gryffindors, as usual, paid him no mind. And Remus, for once, had enough money for new robes and books come fall.
It was summer before Remus could pay off his bet to James, though, and even then it wasn't as good as James had hoped. He'd wanted to drag Peter and Sirius along, too, but Sirius had got a job as groundskeeper for the first few weeks of summer, and Peter was off on holiday somewhere. So, it was just James and Remus as they slouched out of the Underground -- Remus didn't like traveling by floo, and anyway they didn't want to go to Diagon Alley itself.
James was surprised when Remus led him past the little take-away window near the Leaky Cauldron, down a side-path, and out onto another street entirely. He followed dutifully, however, wondering if this were some sort of ritual.
Eventually Remus stopped under a faded red sign in front of a tinted-glass window, and pushed the door open. James peered in.
"Go on, you great git, don't stand in the door," Remus said, giving him a poke in the back. James glared, but walked inside.
The restaurant was not crowded, but it certainly wasn't empty; a woman led them to a table spread with a crisp white tablecloth, and a man appeared instantly, bearing a teapot and two small cups. Remus, to James' surprised, ordered immediately; sweet and sour prawns, hot and sour soup, jiaozi, fried rice, and maotai.
"There's bound to be something you'll like," Remus said, pouring the tea. James was examining the chopsticks next to his plate. "You can use a fork, I won't make fun," he added, with a grin.
"How d'you know all this?" James asked. Remus shrugged.
"Spend a bit more time in the Muggle world than you do, don't I?" he said. "Had to. Dad used to drag me all over creation, talking to Muggle doctors about..." he looked down, and shrugged. "Well. You know."
James nodded.
"Anyway, he took me to this Chinese herbalist and we spent weeks seeing if there was anything he could do, and he taught me...oh, all sorts of things. Literal Game and a little bit about tea, and philosophy, and that. Quite enjoyed it. Didn't help my situation at all, but it was fun while it lasted. Didn't charge dad anything for it either, said it was nice to have a good student." Remus grinned. The man who'd brought their tea appeared at his elbow again, setting down two small stoneware cups, and a matching jug. James peered at it.
"And this," Remus said, reverently, filling the glasses, "is the reason we came here."
"More tea?" James asked.
"This is maotai. They import it specially. It comes from the Guizhou province -- I think it's made from wheat. And it is highly alcoholic," Remus said appreciatively.
James, hesitantly, watched as Remus picked up his glass, put his lips to it, and tilted his head back, swallowing once, smoothly. He set down the glass, upside down, to show that it was empty, and sipped his tea quickly. James watched a light flush creep across his face.
"Go on," Remus laughed. "Or don't, if you'd rather not. Thought you might enjoy it."
James picked up the glass. He'd had firewhiskey once or twice, with Sirius; he put the cup to his lips and drank.
Remus grinned as he swallowed twice, in quick succession, set the glass down (still a quarter-full), and gulped his tea, quickly.
"Bloody hell," James said. "Are you sure I won't go blind?"
"I haven't, yet," Remus replied. "And I've been coming here more or less every holiday since I was fifteen."
"And they served you?"
"Well, I usually come with dad, and he lets me, so I guess they figure it's not their responsibility," Remus shrugged. He watched with a smile as James downed the rest of the glass, with tea.
Talk turned to Quidditch, something that they always could discuss, if nothing more interesting was forthcoming. The Quidditch World Cup was happening soon, and James had won two tickets in a Daily Prophet contest. He was planning on going with his dad, but he promised to take thousands of pictures for Remus and Sirius and Peter, and bring them programs. When the food arrived, Remus began to explain what each was, and tried to teach James how to use the chopsticks, somewhat fruitlessly as it turned out.
"Dad and I play animal betting on ours," Remus said, pouring a second shot of the maotai for each of them. James looked intrigued.
"Animal betting?" he asked.
"Yes, it's like rock-paper-scissors. You tap your chopstick on mine and we each say a name. Insect bores stick; stick beats tiger, tiger eats -- " Remus sniggered. "Well. Rooster."
"Cock?" James asked, sipping tea to wash the burning sensation from the maotai out of his mouth.
"Yes, and cock pecks insect."
"Nice trick," James drawled, and they both laughed. "All right. All right. Tap. On three. One, two, three -- cock!"
"Tiger," Remus said promptly, over top of James. "Ha! You've got to do a shot."
"Since when?"
"Tradition."
"Bullshit," James replied, but he drank anyway, sputtering a little. He speared a dumpling on his fork and took a bite, while Remus deftly ate rice with his chopsticks. "So what else did this guy teach you?"
Remus grinned. "You're not ready to play Literal Game, James."
"Literal Game?"
"It is to animal betting what chess is to flipping a coin," Remus answered. "You make up a story by assembling quotations and proverbs and literary quotes, history, fairy tales. There was a Chinese poet named Bai Juyi who thought that it was more elegant and interesting than music."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Well, it's easy to do it, once you get the hang of it. Easy to do it badly, certainly. Doing it well is the challenge, especially after maotai. Though there's an ancient belief that alcohol improves art and poetry," Remus continued, deftly transferring a prawn covered in sauce to his mouth. "The way dad and I played it, the first time you say 'um', you have to pour a shot; the second time you have to pick it up; the third time you have to drink it."
"Anyone ever told you, your dad's a bit weird?" James asked.
"That's the maotai talking," Remus said, with a smile.
"All right then, Moony, lay some literal game on me," James challenged. Remus chewed his rice, thoughtfully.
"Euclid drew a circle on a sand beach long ago, and bounded and enclosed it with angles thus and so. His set of solemn greybeards nodded and argued much -- of arc and of circumference, diameter, and such. A silent child stood by them from morning until noon, because they drew such charming, round pictures of the moon," he began. "There once was a child who walked the beaches of the country in which he lived, an island you understand, best beloved..."
James laughed, recognizing an element of the Just So Stories, one of Remus' favourite books.
"...and in this country lived a man named Euclid, it was true, but this Euclid was the town fool, and um -- bugger." Remus picked up the jar and poured it. James saw him thinking quickly as he did so.
"This Euclid was the town fool," Remus continued, when he'd poured, "and his greybeards were a set of monkeys who would follow him about and beg food from him, which he in turn begged from the townspeople. Now one day he was begging on the beach when the child walked along the sands, and the child, having nothing to give him, promised to bring him the moon, if he could have one of Euclid's monkeys. Now the monkeys numbered three, and one was blind, and one was deaf, and one was, um -- "
James shook a finger. Remus, taking the opportunity to eat a few bites of dinner, lifted the cup and continued talking.
"And one was mute. Euclid, who believed the moon to be made of -- "
" -- green cheese -- " James chimed in with him, beginning to understand how this worked.
" -- precisely, green cheese -- decided that this was quite a good bargain, and gave him the monkey who couldn't talk, and the boy was somewhat happy. But of course eventually the town fool Euclid would come to collect, and um -- blast!"
Remus downed the drink, and continued on; James listened to the story, sampling the different foods on the table. He saw other patrons begin to listen in, and smiled, pleased to be part of the centre of attention. As he told the story, Remus had to down two more shots, the errors coming faster as he drank more of the maotai -- though to be fair, he was talking much slower. By the time he ended, with a crooked grin at James, between the two of them the small jar of alcohol was nearly empty.
"And that, o best beloved, is how the child who walked the beaches acquired the monkeys, and how Euclid became a wise man, and how the king of the island lost his gold tooth," Remus finished. James grinned, and clicked his chopsticks in appreciation.
"Brilliant, Moony," he said.
"That was bloody hard," Remus replied, drinking from his now-cold cup of tea, and finishing up the prawns. His voice slurred a little.
"Well, it was worth it. You'll have to tell Sirius that story, he'd like it," James added. Remus grinned, and signaled for the bill.
"Want to finish the maotai?" he asked. James accepted the last glass, downing it with a little more ease than the others.
They acquired a few take-away cartons for the rest of the food, and Remus paid the bill with peculiar, colourful Muggle money, while James packed the cartons into a paper bag.
"Right, might as well be going -- " Remus said, standing. Only James' lighting-fast reflexes prevented him from falling over; he caught Moony's arm, pulling him forward, and the brown-haired boy stumbled against him, laughing.
"Should not have let you lure me into playing Literal Game," he managed. "Definitely not with maotai."
"Can you walk?" James asked, steadying him. He wasn't feeling entirely steady himself.
"Technically," Remus replied, grinning at him. "Just a moment..."
He took a few deep breaths, straightened, and nodded. "Right. Lead the way."
"Mind you don't knock anything over," James said, pulling him through the now-crowded restaurant by the elbow. They seemed to manage all right until they turned the corner to pass down into the main street where the Leaky Cauldron was. When they turned, James stumbled into Remus, knocking them both into the wall.
"You see? No good can come of listening to you," Remus cried, pushing himself away from the wall and swaying a little.
"I'm not the one who ordered highly alcoholic Chinese beverages," James replied.
"Mind the corner," Remus said with a grin. James tugged him onward.
"Well, we can't go to my place, that's for sure," he said. "Mum would say you're a bad influence on me."
"So I am, so I am," Remus answered, leaning his head on James' shoulder. "Took you out, got you drunk, told you ridiculous faerie tales."
"Can't go to your place."
"Hah! Two hours south of here! I should think not!"
"Peter's mum would have fits."
Remus snickered into his collar. "Peter's mum would have kittens. And Sirius hasn't got a place..."
"He has," James protested. Remus managed to stand on his own, and looked at him inquiringly. "His great uncle or something. Jus' died. Left him a pile'a money and a..." he paused, for thought. "A flat," he said finally.
"Yeah?"
"He showed it to me. Little place. Nice kitchen. Really old furniture," James said grandly. "Not too far."
"Sleep it off?"
"Aye," James answered. "And we can leave him the leftovers. Payment, like."
"Brilliant. Lay on, Macduff!"
"What?"
"Don't make me explain, Prongs, I'm very drunk," Remus said, somewhat mournfully. James giggled, and pulled him along by his collar, out onto the street and towards the tube.
***
"What's the spell?"
"Olo something."
"Naw, s'not it."
"Alholo?"
"You just...lean there," James said, leaning Remus up against the wall outside the flat that Sirius had inherited. "Hope s'not magically locked. That'd be a drag."
"Alohomora!" Remus said, eyes closed, waving a hand elegantly. James pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the door.
"Holohoma!" he said. The door defiantly did nothing.
"You're buggering it up," Remus observed.
"Alohomo!"
"Alohomora," Remus said helpfully, coaching. James glared.
"Alohomoroa! Hah!" James exclaimed.
Nothing.
He groaned, and leaned against the door. Remus' hand slid over and jiggled the doorknob.
James almost fell over as the door opened inward. Remus let out a snort of laughter and followed him inside.
"Sirius gonna LIVE here?" he asked, catching himself on a hall table. "S'like a museum!"
James set the paper bag on the kitchen counter, and cast a chilling charm over it, without his usual deftness. Remus wandered into the living room, and dropped onto the couch, leaning his head back.
"Probably get rid of lots of stuff," James said critically. "Sirius doesn't strike me as the type to like a lot of...you know..." he gestured vaguely at a tapestry bearing the Black coat of arms.
"I love this couch," Remus declared. "I'm never moving."
"S'a nice couch," James agreed, settling onto it and looking around. Remus slowly toppled over. "Here, geroff me."
"Jamespillow," Remus mumbled, against James' thigh.
"No, no no. I am not pillow for a drunken werewolf," James protested.
"Shhhh!"
"Why?"
Remus laughed. "Dunno."
James leaned back, sinking deeper into the couch. It was an awfully nice couch, this much was true; Remus could sleep here, and he'd get up in a few minutes and find the bedroom. Or maybe he'd sleep just like this too.
He realised his hand had moved, and was smoothing Remus' hair, as if the boy was a dog -- haha, not a dog at all, that was Padfoot, Remus was a wolf, was dangerous...but his brown hair was pleasantly silky under James' fingers.
"Nice," Remus mumbled. James laughed.
"No more maotai for you," he scolded. Remus rubbed his cheek against James' leg.
"You're just jealous. Cos I tell better stories," he answered. He pushed himself up until he was facing James, cheeks flushed, hair slightly disordered from James' fingers. "D'you know what?" he asked.
"What, Remus?" James murmured, aware that Remus was a bit too far in his personal space, and that he was not unhappy about it.
"Next story I tell is gonna be about you," Remus said, nodding. "Once upon a time there was a boy named Prongs..."
James smiled. "You're drunk."
"...and he had beautiful hazel eyes," Remus continued. "And since he was a wizard he could cast all sorts of magic, o best beloved."
"What kind of magic?" James asked.
"All kinds. A sense of oceans and old trees evelops and allures him; tradition, touching all he sees, beguiles and reassures him," Remus quoted. "And so in the time of nineteen-seventy-six, when the schools were out and the games were done, this wizard named Prongs, um..."
"You said Um!" James laughed. Remus, still propped up, facing him, moved one hand and mimed pouring a cup. When he was done, he continued, brown eyes traveling over James' face until they fixed, slightly unfocused, on James' hazel ones.
"this wizard named Prongs decided to take a journey, and he needed a guide. And fortunately for him his magic eyes..." Remus lifted a hand, and tapped James on the temple, "had captured and tamed a wild wolf -- "
" -- named Moony!" James laughed.
"Named Moony!" Remus agreed. "And um -- dammit."
James watched as Remus lifted one hand, holding an imaginary cup. "And Moony said to James -- uh, to Prongs -- "
"Drink!" James said. Remus lifted the imaginary cup to his lips, and tilted it; when he leaned his head back, James could see the sharp edge of his jaw, the curve of his neck, and suddenly he caught his breath.
"Moony said to Prongs..."
"He had magic eyes," James said encouragingly.
"Magic hazel eyes," Remus corrected. He was very still, and very close; James reached out to fix a lock of his fine, tufty hair, and Remus closed his eyes.
"I'm tired," he said softly. "I don't want to tell this story anymore."
James bowed his head and felt Remus' breath, warm on his cheek; after a pause, he turned, slightly. His lower lip brushed Remus' mouth, and an almost electric shock ran through him.
"I want to know how the story ends," he said. Remus swayed forward, forehead pressing against James', lips on his.
"Moony said to Prongs, Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art," Remus breathed. "Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night..."
James' thumb, drifting over his cheekbone, made him shiver and stop, and gasp, softly.
"Got to drink," James murmured, and Remus pressed him back, moving to straddle him, lips warm, tongue exploring James' mouth hungrily. He tasted like the spicy food they'd eaten and a little like the maotai, and James didn't realise he was gripping Remus' shoulders until the boy tried to draw back, and couldn't.
He felt Remus take his wrists and lift his hands, leaning back slowly.
"Sorry," the other boy said, ducking his head. "Didn't mean that. Sorry..."
James, wrists still held in Remus' hands, drew his fingers down the line of his throat, over the collar of his shirt, flicking the buttons open. Remus watched his eyes, muzzily.
"James, what're you doing?" he whispered, trying to pull away, but James' fingers snared his shirt, holding him there. He could feel Remus' erection against his thigh.
"Dunno," James said, almost curiously, pulling Remus forward. He kissed his collarbone. "Feels good though."
"Prongs, please," Remus moaned. "Let me go."
"Mm, no," James decided, rubbing his jaw against the sensitive skin. "Tell me the story, Remus."
"Oh -- " Remus gasped for breath and released James' wrists, and James took the opportunity to wrap his arms around Remus' waist, securing him more firmly in place.
"Moony s-said to Prongs..." Remus moaned, softly. "If you travel with me you will regret it, for I am the wolf who walks by himself -- " a sharp intake of breath when James lapped at his nipple, gently, " -- and all placed are al-alike to me..."
James felt Remus clutch at his hair, desperately. "But Prongs would not listen to him -- umm -- "
"Drink," James said, bucking his hips once. Remus went silent. "Tell me the story, Moony."
"No...no..." Remus pulled away from his grip, sitting back. James cocked his head curiously.
"You know by now," he said quietly, stroking Remus' hair. "I always get what I want."
Remus looked him directly in the eye, and shook his head. "And Moony said to Prongs, oh best beloved..."
James stiffened, suddenly. Understanding began to creep through the fuzz in his brain.
"You?" he asked softly. "Me?"
Remus nodded, looking away. James could taste the want, the confusion -- could see how badly his friend wanted this, but...
"Best beloved," Remus murmured. "Everyone...everyone loves you. How could I not? I'm so sorry, James."
James grasped the open collar of Remus' shirt, and knew that the other boy was tensing to be -- to be hit, or perhaps thrown across the room.
Instead, he pulled him forward again, and kissed his lips -- gently. Remus, he thought, would have used the word 'chaste'.
Suddenly there were hands on his chest, a warm body moving against him, as Remus settled forward, deepening the kiss, tongue warm and slick against his own, breathless, eyes closed.
No more storytelling, James thought. And certainly no more games...
This was for real.
Remus nibbled his lip, ran kisses down his jaw, whined with frustration as he pulled the shirt from his shoulders, raked his fingers through James' untidy hair. And then slid his lips down, over James' adam's apple, his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, dropping to the floor and nuzzling the sensitive skin just above his belt.
James, fumbling, unbuckled it, and Remus' lips and hands and oh -- a cool rush of air followed by a warm...mouth...
"Not one for foreplay...are you?" he gasped. Remus moved his head, and there was cool air again, and a quite talented tongue, really...
"This is the foreplay," Remus murmured, voice vibrating against James' skin. James threw his head back and moaned, arms spread along the back of the couch (oh god this couch belonged to Sirius) and felt Remus' fingers dig into his thighs, his soft hair brush sensitive skin...
He gasped for air when Remus sat back, grinning unsteadily up at him, and rested his head on James' thigh.
"You finish the story," Remus said quietly. James, panting, pulled him up for a kiss, and stood. His head spun.
Remus was easing the trousers off his hips, and James hastened to do likewise; they kissed, explored, touched, standing so close that they could feel the pressure between their skin.
"Do you suppose Sirius would care -- "
" -- if we debauched his couch?" Remus asked, nibbling on James' earlobe.
"Decouchery," James said, and Remus snorted with laughter. He stroked a hand down James' cheek, and turned, dropping onto the couch. James looked down at him, hair touseled, brown eyes still unfocused from the drink, skin pale.
"Come here," he ordered softly, and James sank down, feeling the brush of hot skin as Remus wrapped an arm around his waist, rested his chin on his shoulder.
"Moony," James moaned, as Remus' other hand snaked around to stroke him. "Moony, how does this..."
"Shh. Trust me."
"Oh -- " James heard Remus murmur something low, in Latin, and felt a pressure and slickness and pain and then Moony was groaning, and the world shrunk to this body and hands and Moony inside him and touching him and oh god, Moony...
"Breathe," Remus whispered in his ear, hips moving against him, hands so deft, body so warm. James leaned his head back, trying and failing to do anything but gasp in short sharp cries, until Remus tensed underneath him and warmth filled him and the world, he felt sure, quite literally moved.
Remus' fingers danced across his stomach, lightly. He could feel the other boys' pulse, where his jaw rested against Remus' neck.
"My god," he managed, finally. Remus laughed against his skin.
"Good story?" he asked softly.
"Good story," James agreed. "M'cold though."
Remus nuzzled his shoulder. "Bet you there's a bed in this place." He kissed James' jaw. "Sleepy."
"You're drunk."
"You said that."
"Well, you are."
Remus laughed again. "Let's find that bed," he said, in a voice that made James' skin tingle.
END
Endnotes: Remus quotes many things in the Literal Game; among them Kipling's "Just So Stories", Vachel Lindsay's "Euclid" from "Poems about the Moon", Edwin Arlington Robinson's "Eros Turannos", and Keats' "Bright Star".
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Alohomora!" Remus said, eyes closed, waving a hand elegantly. James pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the door.
"Holohoma!" he said. The door defiantly did nothing.
"You're buggering it up," Remus observed.
"Alohomo!"
"Alohomora," Remus said helpfully, coaching. James glared.
"Alohomoroa! Hah!" James exclaimed.
Nothing.
I love you; keep writing.
Literal Game Feedback
Re: Literal Game Feedback
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Something I love about all your writing style is how is seems to bubble effortlessly out into the plot. Nothing is being forced out. Nothing is screaming "I HAD TO BE PUT IN HERE!" or "UH... I'M FILLER!" It's smooth. Every part seems just as important as the next, even when rising in the climax of the instance.
*claps*
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How about we have a game and I have my friend Tikka drink? She's a rather amusing drunk. One of my favorite lines of all time was "Tikka, I know you like the table, but you need to come down and put your shirt back on. Tikka? TIKKA, LET GO OF YOUR ZIPPER!"
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Since of course I love this fic and I'm actually not sure how many times I've read it, but every time I do it makes me sad that I've never played this game before, because I'd dearly love to. A question of idle curiosity would be where on earth did you learn about the Literal Game? And is there a set of rules somewhere for it that this is based on?
But really what I've wanted to say is that though I comment infrequently, your work is one of my favorite things on the face of the internet to read and re-read. You just have such a knack for characters and their voices-- particularly Remus. I adore your Remus, in every incarnation of him. Likely because he's bookish to a degree I cannot help but relating to. And I know almost all his quotes, being almost equally bookish.
So thank you, Sam, for sharing your wealth of talent with the internet. And if you ever publish a book, of any sort, I'll be first in line to purchase it.
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Anyhow. Thanks for commenting! :) And I promise I'll pimp my book out thoroughly if I ever get one published.
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Certain people (read:
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(Anonymous) 2010-10-17 02:09 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2013-07-03 05:25 am (UTC)(link)