Special delivery for ceria
Title: Sympathy in Choice
Author: freckles42
Recipient's IJ/LJ name: ceria
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Kingsley/Lily
Word Count: 3350
Warnings (if any):
Authors notes : Many thanks to my lovely, lovely E, without whom I'd achieve nothing. Ceria, I really hope you enjoy this. You asked for foreplay, hesitant sex, and some angst… and the woman behind the man. I truly loved writing this story. Happy V-day! ♥

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
Making it momentany as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth;
And ere a man hath power to say "Behold!"
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.
• A Midsummer Night's Dream (Lysander at I, i)

---

Sympathy in Choice

~♥~

Kingsley never wore a scarf when he went to visit Lily Potter's grave. November in Godric's Hollow was often cold enough to chill his lungs, burning and searing from the chilly tendrils that worked their way into his core. For brief moments, he would imagine that a Dementor was secreting away pieces of his soul so that he would never have to hurt again – because despite what others thought of him, he had hurt as deeply as any person could. The only difference was that he'd learned how to build up a wall so high that no one could get over it. It was better that way – and yet he'd found that his bare fingers would go numb from pressing them to her headstone long before he'd force his hand to withdraw.

"Penny for the Guy!" a child's voice rang out from the other end of the square, carrying on the chilly breeze that was blowing in from the north. A quick, squealing noise drew Kingsley's gaze to the young girl, who was setting off small fireworks near the centre of the square – not far from the memorial to the Potter family. His heart twisted as the green Glittering Gemstone illuminated their faces, but he could not pull away his gaze.

If he closed his eyes just so it was almost as if she were truly there. He watched her for a long moment, willing her to move, even if it were to turn to James. He'd give nearly anything to see her alive again. He moved quickly to the cemetery, quietly manoeuvring his way through the shadows, blending his bulky form into the dark patches until he reached his goal. Another year, and there she was. He curled his fingers against her headstone and stared at her name.

Most of their friends and fellow Order members would come here on All Hallows Eve, but not him. He chose to visit on the night when they first truly met, not on the night that she died. Always, he wanted to remember her with a smile on her face, laughing, all dimples and childhood freckles.

~♥~

She was a year behind him in school and he admired her. It was her spirit – always her spirit – that attracted him. When his sixth year hit, though, and they were both prefects for Gryffindor, he finally got the chance to know her. He was a quiet young man and while he had the respect of his peers, he had not bonded closely with any of them. As a prefect, he had been forced to take points against the difficult boys in the year behind him, which paved the way for their first conversation.

"Kingsley," Lily said, coming up to him after the second Prefect's meeting of the year, "I think the boys are going to pull a prank."

Well, she certainly didn't beat about the bush.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, shouldering his knapsack. She gave him a brief, appraising look, eyes looking him over, seeming to discern all she could about him.

"They've been quiet," she said. "Too quiet. And, on top of it – well, you're Muggleborn, too, right?"

"Half," he allowed. Two students hurried past them, deep in conversation about Potions work. Kingsley's eyes never left Lily's, though.

"Well, then you know about Bonfire Night."

"Yes, it's the –"

"Fifth of November," she finished for him. "Tonight," she added, shifting her hips. "I think they're planning something big – even James won't let me nearby, and Sirius is doing his irritating growling thing and pacing like a caged animal."

"Well, I'm on duty tonight," he said. "I can keep an eye out and alert the other prefects."

"Can't you just, oh, I don't know, knock their heads together and make them stop? Catching them is fun, but I am tired of losing points thanks to them. A couple of concussions might do Sirius and James some good."

He laughed and placed a hand on her shoulder briefly, not thinking. "Don't tempt me," he chuckled.

She glanced at his hand, then up at his face, and then flashed him an impish little smile. "Careful what you ask for," she said, laughing as she left, the faintest scents of white tea and lavender trailing in her wake. "I'll see you later, Kingsley."

"That's not what I-" he stopped himself, shaking his head. What was he thinking? Things just didn't work that way, not even here. And yet, he couldn't get the vision of her flashing eyes or the scent of her out of his head.

~♥~
He lifted the bouquet to his nose and breathed in, and for a moment he was there again. He'd caught his future comrades with their hands in the cookie jar, so to speak, and been forced to bring them before McGonagall. If there was one thing he learned in school, it was to let sleeping Scots lie, and he was always glad that she had never turned her sharp tongue on him.

Lily also seemed to save all her sharp words when she talked about James Potter. Kingsley didn't mind listening to her rant and complain about him – anything that gave him an excuse to spend time with her was good for him.

A cold gust of wind sent more of autumn's leaves flying past his face, eddying in the currents formed by the tombstones. The first time they had kissed, he'd been able to smell the smoke of hearth fires on the air, carried to them across the mountains and the lake by the wind.

~♥~

"What are we doing out here?" he asked as they walked by the forest's edge. They had taken to strolling about the castle grounds when they talked, and as prefects they had much more freedom than most students. He'd forgot his scarf and now he was regretting it. The wind had a way of sneaking down the back of his neck.

"We're walking," she said, smiling as she slipped her arm through his. It was a small thing – courtesy, really – but it always made Kingsley's stomach turn over in a way that made him spend extra time in the showers. "Also," she added cheerfully, "James is trying to follow us and I want him to get a clue. Don't look!" she whispered as Kingsley turned his head to do just that.

"Sorry," he said, a faint smile on his lips. "But if you don't want him here, you should tell him to go away. Why sneak about it?" He never did like mind games, but sometimes even the very direct Lily Evans became very much a girl.

She gave him a mysterious look, then rest her head on his upper arm – his shoulder was too high. "If you're going to be an Auror some day, you really do need to learn to be stealthier." She pressed her face against the scratchy wool arm of his cloak.

He didn't dare move, but he didn't have to.

"Just tell him, hm?" she mused, squeezing his arm. "I think that I can do that." She tipped her head up, turning to look at him directly. "Kiss me."

He did, and she tasted of white tea and honey and smelt of all things good in his life. Her hands wrapped around the lapels of his cloak and she pulled herself up into him, deepening the kiss even as his own arms went around her to support her.

A splash and the sound shouting broke their kiss, and they turned to see an angry-looking, startled James thrashing about in the water by the shore.

Lily laughed and rested her head upon his chest, and Kingsley, warm, did not mind that he'd left behind his scarf.

~♥~

He flipped the collar of his Muggle-style long coat up against a sudden burst of wind that shot across the hills. He forced himself to take the slow walk through the overgrown cemetery, away from her tombstone, so as to bring warmth back into his body. The gold hoop in his ear was cold and he could feel it chilling his skin even more.

~♥~

She had to talk him into it.

"Come on, Kingsley, it'll be very sexy," she said, digging her bare toes into his thigh, stretched out along most of the sofa they were sharing. She had her Transfiguration book out on her lap, but she had spent the better part of the previous hour trying to convince him that pushing gold through his ear would make him look good.

"I'll look like a pirate," he said, calmly sharpening his quill and dipping the nib again. "I have no desire to be the end target of countless 'booty' jokes."

"Oh, you know no one would dare do that," she said, toes creeping over his leg, inching closer to his groin. He very, very deliberately ignored her.

This, he had learned, was a sure way of really provoking her. Ignoring and bullying – two things guaranteed to send her into a fury, as well he knew. He couldn't stand for bullying, either.

She frowned and pressed her toes closer to his crotch. He put his hand on her foot to stop its advance.

"Kindly," he said firmly, "remove your foot from its very dangerous position." His thumb stroked the side of her ankle lightly to show he wasn't upset. He felt a ripple move along her leg and he turned to look at her.

"Kindly let me pierce your ear and I'll replace my foot with my hand," she said, smiling at him.

Kingsley was a man of many morals and standards, and he did not believe in bartering with one's significant other for services, be they sexual or otherwise.

He was, however, still seventeen, and he could not get past that offer.

Five minutes later, they were in a disused lavatory. She sat across his chest and very carefully pierced his ear. It did not hurt like he'd expected, and the cool gold inside his skin was a strange sensation. He barely had time to focus on it before she was sliding down him and slipping her hand along the edge of his trousers, kissing him tenderly.

She paused when she felt his pubic hairs curling against her nails. His muscles twitched and he could feel himself hardening quickly in anticipation. She smiled a little at him, a little uncertainty in her eyes.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she said, fingers lightly caressing his skin, feeling the taut line of his flesh over his hipbone as it curved down. "But you just tell me if… if I need to do something different."

He nodded and reached his hands down to cover hers, then undid his belt and fly to give his cock more breathing room. He'd dreamed about what her slim fingers around him might feel like, and the reality was –

Oh Merlin -

So much more. Her fingers moved along him so agonisingly slowly that he thought he might burst. He had to show her where to move her hand, fingers stroking along the underside, thumb swiping across the glans and squeezing just right. He didn't dare suggest she try to do anything to his bollocks (to be frank, he was a mite touchy about handling them himself, after The Unfortunate Hangnail Snagging Accident of '75), but this - this - was enough.

The way she bit her lip as she watched his face – always his face – was enough to bring him over the edge. He grunted and pulled her hand away just in time, coming in quick spurts in his pants. He gathered her close and kissed her desperately, knowing he'd never meet another girl like her, even as her hair tangled around his new gold hoop.

~♥~

Finding himself warmed slightly after his brief walk, he returned to her grave and sat down upon the hard earth. He began the careful task of cleaning off their plot, removing the tokens of thanks and items left behind by well-wishers. Everything was placed into a special bag he'd return to the Ministry. They did love to catalogue everything.

He finally sat with his back against her headstone, and closed his eyes, feeling the chill from the granite radiating through the many layers of clothes he wore. He placed his bare hand against the stone, palm resting there like it had the first time –

The first time that they –

~♥~

He braced his hand against the cold stone of their favourite closet and pressed her up against the wall. They'd been together for half a year now and things had progressed very nicely. He ignored the way Lily seemed to delight in teasing James in public with her affection for Kingsley - on a deep level, he didn't mind Potter being jealous. After all, Kingsley got the girl. And she was magnificent.

This storage cupboard was preferred for its ease of access and secure locking charms – that, and it was hidden behind a tapestry so it was not known by most of the other students, which meant a lower risk of being interrupted.

Their outer clothes were quickly discarded – by now they were comfortable enough with each other to jump right to where they'd left off the previous time, and inch forward another step. He slid his hand up her front and cupped her breast, fingers tracing over her gooseflesh before covering her hard nipple, eliciting a moan from her. Her hand quickly found its way into his pants, so much more confident now, stroking him surely, familiarly. He laid a dance of kisses along her neck and shoulder, making her quake in his arms.

His other hand withdrew from the stone and pressed between her legs, two fingers moving her black knickers aside and sliding slickly against her.

"Oh!" she gasped, curling forward towards him in surprise. "Cold!"

"Sorry," he said with a smile, sliding one into her, then a second, marveling at the feel of her heat around his digits. She clenched her muscles around him, a hand going to his shoulder, fingers pressing against his skin.

"Kingsley, you'll pay for that," she moaned. "Oh, oh Merlin, please." Her fingers squeezed around his cock and she tugged him forward, closer to her, hips jutting forward. "I want you."

He slowly thrust his fingers in and out of her, cock straining against his pants, grunting as he fingered her.

"No, no," she said, almost impatient, shaking her hips to free her of his fingers. "I meant you."

"You mean-"

"I have been trying to tell you for weeks," she said, pushing down his pants then wiggling out of her own. "Weeks, Kingsley. I've wanted to have you since the new year. I'm ready, and I know you are, too."

He could not find words to respond, so he simply kissed her, gripping her close to him, cock pressed up against her leg. She moaned in his arms and it sent a jolt to his groin. He picked her up and pressed her up against the wall, moving his hips around almost-desperately in an attempt to claim her as his own. A heat rushed across his body – he loved Lily and there was nothing more that he ever wanted than her, right now. She spread her legs as best she could, up on her tiptoes already.

"I think if you just-"

"Let me try-"

"Hold on, move your leg up and-"

"You've got to crouch down a bit, I think and-"

"I've got it, I-"

It took a few minutes of negotiation, but he got her legs up around his waist. He glanced down between them, lining himself up against her. He took a deep breath and pressed the head of his cock against her, and she murmured. His gaze returned to her face, half-hoping and half-afraid she'd tell him to stop. Instead, he was met by the most trusting gaze he'd ever seen on anyone's face. Her hair was already mussed but he thought that in that moment she was the most beautiful person he'd ever known.

"Please," she whispered, eyes searching his. "Kingsley, show me how you feel."

He slowly pressed into her, grunting, eyes never leaving her face. She was impossibly tight and her eyes went wider as he filled her up.

"Oh," she said, hand going to the back of his neck. "Oh."

He kissed her, and then began to slowly move his hips, unable to withdraw too far for fear of sliding out of her altogether or making her move down the wall or any other number of untold fears of their first time. She made the most amazing little noises as he sped up, and her small breasts bounced perfectly with each thrust.

It did not take long to bring him to completion, but she shook it off with a smile and a kiss.

"Next time," she murmured as they cuddled amidst the cleaning potions and old mops. "Clearly we just need to practise more.

Kingsley's heart soared. There would be a next time.

~♥~

There had been dozens of "next times," of course, and he could remember each one in vivid detail.

Everything had changed with that summer, though. He graduated and enrolled almost immediately into the Ministry's elite Auror training programme. She had an internship with a small apothecary that was preparation for her final year of school. They wrote often and he still had every letter. Things started to shift by the end of July, though, as Lily talked more and more about how James Potter came to visit her nearly every day and how he'd grown quite a bit and wasn't it nice that they could all be such friends? His heart sank at ever mention of him, even though he'd always known that it was inevitable. Everyone else saw it, even if she didn't.

He could not even bring himself to hate James Potter, no matter how much he wanted to.

He sighed and gazed at James' name on the tombstone beside Lily's. He'd won, in the end, but they'd all lost.

~♥~

Kingsley and Lily arranged to meet up that first Hogsmeade weekend of the school year. He finally had a day off training and was so grateful for the chance to see her. They had not discussed explicitly the state of their relationship, though, and it made him nervous. Being apart for weeks at a time was no good, and he knew all too well the incestuous nature of Hogwarts. Relationships that spanned different school years – particularly when one person was outside of school and the other still going to classes – stood a very thin chance of surviving.

Still, that did not stop him from wanting to rush up and catch her up in a tight embrace, spinning her in the smoky autumn air. He'd bought orchids for her, special.

He waited for her where the road from the school came into town, just out of sight, wanting to surprise her even though they'd agreed where to meet. The bouquet was hidden behind his back, ready.

What he did not expect, though, was to see her walking down the hill with James Potter. He was walking just a little too closely to her. She laughed a little too loudly.

He knew.

He knew in that moment that he'd lost her.

His stomach clenched and turned, and he slipped away along the side of a store, breathing harder than he had at any point in his training. He was not a coward, but he could not face her. He feared that the look in her eyes might have changed, and he could not stand the thought. He went to the owl post office and quickly wrote out two words, then sent the bird off to the school. She'd have the note when she got back.

He hoped she'd understand, and perhaps forgive him some day.

~♥~

"I'm sorry," he whispered, staring down at her name, saying the words he'd written so many years ago. They were the words that had forced him to harden his heart so that he might never hurt again.

"I'm so sorry."

He placed a bouquet of orchids against her headstone, then quietly slipped away into the shadows.