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nathaniel_hp
Dec. 23rd, 2008 05:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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rarepair_shortsAuthor: to_hellxweride
Recipient:nathaniel_hp
Pairing: Cedric/Viktor
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: Two fics! =]
Title: Arithmancy.
Word Count: 445
All Cedric could hear was grunting. The brute force of a man that seemed to have a permanent scowl and a stern, sharp stare was harder to deal with than he thought. He sighed; rolling his eyes, and ran his fingertips through his maple locks. Cedric had spent nearly five hours holed up in a tight corner of the library and they had made no progress, had gone nowhere. There had been a slew of third-year girls from both Beauxbatons and Hogwarts that had hidden themselves in the next row, sliding books left and right to try and catch a glimpse of the Bulgarian superstar, and that really hadn’t helped either party’s concentration. The Hufflepuff almost wanted to bang his head repeatedly into the desk. The concept of arithmancy was so simple; so easy to follow.
“Okay. Let’s try a different method.”
Cedric feared the tutoring lesson would stoop to this level, but he had tried nearly every other method. There was only one thing he could do; use his last resort. Cedric pulled out a bag of Bertie Bott’s beans. He poured out a handful of beans, separated them into three piles by kind, and shoved one sort towards Krum.
“Alright, you have six beans. The book says that I have three more than twice the amount you have. So what do you need to do to your pile first?”
The two champions sat in silence; Cedric staring pleadingly at Krum to at least tell Cedric he understood the question, and Krum sitting there with a visible question mark hovering over his head. Somewhere in the atmosphere were mixed signals and wrongly-fired messages. Tension started to gradually fill the air, slowly choking them, the miscommunication reaching a new level of frustration.
Finally, Krum slowly raised fingers two fingers from beneath the table, indicating the need to double his beans. Cedric beamed back; maybe it wouldn’t be as hopeless as he figured it out to be.
“Yes! Okay. Now, what’s the last thing you need to do to get the number of beans in my pile?”
Cedric looked hopeful, eyes urging Viktor on. Maybe the Quidditch professional had something stored in that head of his... Maybe Viktor wasn’t silent because nothing seemed to be in his mind... Maybe the reason why Viktor was so quiet was because he was actually...
The Hufflepuff watched in horror as Krum reached his overbearing hands and grabbed a portion of his beans and dropped them into his mouth, slowly chewing and then grunting after he swallowed. He then proceeded to shrug, looking at Cedric with that apathetic face of his.
Cedric sighed. This would take longer than he thought.
Title: Living through.
Word Count: 619
There’s a mental block in Cedric’s head. Usually, Cedric doesn’t mind. Usually, he enjoys a good challenge, but his mind is much too tired now.
He’s much too tired now that he’s met Viktor Krum.
Okay, sure. Cedric’s got Harry. Harry’s... nice. Cute. But it’s Harry Potter; he’s young, insecure and nervous. Harry is good company, and usually a nice snog. But really, Harry’s attention has always belonged to Cedric’s old pal and sometimes-friends-with-benefits, Oliver. It’s not surprising. The Gryffindor has always harboured an undying secret crush on his first Quidditch captain. So it’s only a matter of time (okay, so really it’s panning out to be years, but still inevitable) until Harry accidentally runs into Wood at a pub, catching up about their respective career choices before Wood asks him home.
So where does that leave Cedric?
Cedric’s dying between the assured relationship with Harry for the next few years before he graduates, and the want to pursue his burning desires. And while his ‘burning desires’ are never going to be guaranteed, Cedric wants to take this risk, wants to see if he actually puts his heart out there that it’ll balance on the fine line – not tumble down into the harsh, bottomless pit of broken pieces.
But it’s hard. He sees Krum at breakfast, chatting with his Durmstrang chums, sees him passing in the hallways, flashing a very small but honest smile at Cedric, sees him lying around on the grass, just soaking up the warm weather that he can’t get in Bulgaria during the fall. It’s so bloody difficult for Cedric to focus on anything when he’s got those piercing eyes lighting up at the sight of him, when those lips pull upward as they approach each other. He can’t stop staring when Krum reaches his arms above his head, stretching his body, arching his back upwards, shirt riding up to expose his treasure trail if only for a brief second, before relaxing on the grass again.
This is absolutely ridiculous.
Cedric needs to stop, and needs to stop now. It’s taking a toll on his energy. He spends much too much time focusing on Krum’s exposed skin and doesn’t spend nearly enough time to keep his Transfiguration grade at full marks. When Krum seeks Cedric out just to talk about whatever; Quidditch, the Tournament – to hold a conversation – Cedric’s melting inside as the Bulgarian talks animatedly in his broken English, Eastern European accent. His sentences are short, clipped, but they demand control. They command Cedric to pay attention, and that’s how Cedric wastes his energy, only managing to comprehend every other word. He can’t function properly around Viktor Krum.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear; Krum in all his full glory, striding confidently towards Cedric. The Hufflepuff’s knees are turning to pudding now, and he can only hope that Krum’s looking to speak with him.
“You need to come vith me,” he says, dragging Cedric by the bicep.
There’s something smirking in Viktor’s tone, and Cedric’s not sure whether he likes it or not.
“Where are we going?”
“Ve are going to talk.”
Viktor’s got a strict face painted on, but his words are taunting him.
“About what?”
“About vat you are doing.”
The Bulgarian turns a sharp corner, and before Cedric knows it, he’s locked inside a broom cupboard with someone who he really doesn’t want to be locked in a cupboard with right now. He’s slammed up against the side, and Viktor’s extremely close, his breath washing over Cedric’s cheeks.
“You must be very quiet,” he whispers, and Cedric nods, stunned into silence.
Then Viktor’s lowering his head, lips brushing Cedric’s and smiles, lips still touching.
Cedric can live with this.
to_hellxwerideRecipient:
nathaniel_hpPairing: Cedric/Viktor
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: Two fics! =]
Title: Arithmancy.
Word Count: 445
All Cedric could hear was grunting. The brute force of a man that seemed to have a permanent scowl and a stern, sharp stare was harder to deal with than he thought. He sighed; rolling his eyes, and ran his fingertips through his maple locks. Cedric had spent nearly five hours holed up in a tight corner of the library and they had made no progress, had gone nowhere. There had been a slew of third-year girls from both Beauxbatons and Hogwarts that had hidden themselves in the next row, sliding books left and right to try and catch a glimpse of the Bulgarian superstar, and that really hadn’t helped either party’s concentration. The Hufflepuff almost wanted to bang his head repeatedly into the desk. The concept of arithmancy was so simple; so easy to follow.
“Okay. Let’s try a different method.”
Cedric feared the tutoring lesson would stoop to this level, but he had tried nearly every other method. There was only one thing he could do; use his last resort. Cedric pulled out a bag of Bertie Bott’s beans. He poured out a handful of beans, separated them into three piles by kind, and shoved one sort towards Krum.
“Alright, you have six beans. The book says that I have three more than twice the amount you have. So what do you need to do to your pile first?”
The two champions sat in silence; Cedric staring pleadingly at Krum to at least tell Cedric he understood the question, and Krum sitting there with a visible question mark hovering over his head. Somewhere in the atmosphere were mixed signals and wrongly-fired messages. Tension started to gradually fill the air, slowly choking them, the miscommunication reaching a new level of frustration.
Finally, Krum slowly raised fingers two fingers from beneath the table, indicating the need to double his beans. Cedric beamed back; maybe it wouldn’t be as hopeless as he figured it out to be.
“Yes! Okay. Now, what’s the last thing you need to do to get the number of beans in my pile?”
Cedric looked hopeful, eyes urging Viktor on. Maybe the Quidditch professional had something stored in that head of his... Maybe Viktor wasn’t silent because nothing seemed to be in his mind... Maybe the reason why Viktor was so quiet was because he was actually...
The Hufflepuff watched in horror as Krum reached his overbearing hands and grabbed a portion of his beans and dropped them into his mouth, slowly chewing and then grunting after he swallowed. He then proceeded to shrug, looking at Cedric with that apathetic face of his.
Cedric sighed. This would take longer than he thought.
Title: Living through.
Word Count: 619
There’s a mental block in Cedric’s head. Usually, Cedric doesn’t mind. Usually, he enjoys a good challenge, but his mind is much too tired now.
He’s much too tired now that he’s met Viktor Krum.
Okay, sure. Cedric’s got Harry. Harry’s... nice. Cute. But it’s Harry Potter; he’s young, insecure and nervous. Harry is good company, and usually a nice snog. But really, Harry’s attention has always belonged to Cedric’s old pal and sometimes-friends-with-benefits, Oliver. It’s not surprising. The Gryffindor has always harboured an undying secret crush on his first Quidditch captain. So it’s only a matter of time (okay, so really it’s panning out to be years, but still inevitable) until Harry accidentally runs into Wood at a pub, catching up about their respective career choices before Wood asks him home.
So where does that leave Cedric?
Cedric’s dying between the assured relationship with Harry for the next few years before he graduates, and the want to pursue his burning desires. And while his ‘burning desires’ are never going to be guaranteed, Cedric wants to take this risk, wants to see if he actually puts his heart out there that it’ll balance on the fine line – not tumble down into the harsh, bottomless pit of broken pieces.
But it’s hard. He sees Krum at breakfast, chatting with his Durmstrang chums, sees him passing in the hallways, flashing a very small but honest smile at Cedric, sees him lying around on the grass, just soaking up the warm weather that he can’t get in Bulgaria during the fall. It’s so bloody difficult for Cedric to focus on anything when he’s got those piercing eyes lighting up at the sight of him, when those lips pull upward as they approach each other. He can’t stop staring when Krum reaches his arms above his head, stretching his body, arching his back upwards, shirt riding up to expose his treasure trail if only for a brief second, before relaxing on the grass again.
This is absolutely ridiculous.
Cedric needs to stop, and needs to stop now. It’s taking a toll on his energy. He spends much too much time focusing on Krum’s exposed skin and doesn’t spend nearly enough time to keep his Transfiguration grade at full marks. When Krum seeks Cedric out just to talk about whatever; Quidditch, the Tournament – to hold a conversation – Cedric’s melting inside as the Bulgarian talks animatedly in his broken English, Eastern European accent. His sentences are short, clipped, but they demand control. They command Cedric to pay attention, and that’s how Cedric wastes his energy, only managing to comprehend every other word. He can’t function properly around Viktor Krum.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear; Krum in all his full glory, striding confidently towards Cedric. The Hufflepuff’s knees are turning to pudding now, and he can only hope that Krum’s looking to speak with him.
“You need to come vith me,” he says, dragging Cedric by the bicep.
There’s something smirking in Viktor’s tone, and Cedric’s not sure whether he likes it or not.
“Where are we going?”
“Ve are going to talk.”
Viktor’s got a strict face painted on, but his words are taunting him.
“About what?”
“About vat you are doing.”
The Bulgarian turns a sharp corner, and before Cedric knows it, he’s locked inside a broom cupboard with someone who he really doesn’t want to be locked in a cupboard with right now. He’s slammed up against the side, and Viktor’s extremely close, his breath washing over Cedric’s cheeks.
“You must be very quiet,” he whispers, and Cedric nods, stunned into silence.
Then Viktor’s lowering his head, lips brushing Cedric’s and smiles, lips still touching.
Cedric can live with this.
