sirius black -- eventually, even stars burn out (seirios) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-09-15 05:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-09] september, dorcas meadowes, sirius black |
who: Sirius and Dorcas
what: Getting drunk.
when: 14 September 1979
where: Sirius's flat
warnings: language, sexual inneundo like mad.
status: Complete.
It had been a hard night and Dorcas hadn't slept much. She didn't look particularly well as she Apparated outside of Sirius's flat, her hair still messy, dark circles under her eyes, and her robes rumpled. At least she wasn't at St Mungo's -- though she was fairly certain that she'd have a scar from the Gouging Charm for the rest of her life. Her side was still sore, and her nose looked more crooked than it had before. She tried to tell herself that she was imagining it, but that seemed unlikely, considering how powerful Rodolphus Lestrange's punch had been. A bottle of elfwine was tucked under one arm and she was trying not to wallow too much in self-pity. Other people had it worse, she told herself as she knocked on Sirius's door. Half of the Godric's Hollow crew was either in St Mungo's being sewn back together or barely moving at the Potters' home. As she waited for the door to open (who knew what the wards would do if she tried herself), she uncorked the bottle of wine with her wand (the old one, that wand) and took a gulp. She wondered for a moment if the "Beer before liquor, never sicker" adage applied to wine, but it seemed irrelevant at the moment. She just hoped she wouldn't get drunk enough to say anything incredibly embarrassing, and if she did, Sirius would be too pissed to remember it in the morning. Sirius washed his face quite thoroughly, wanting any trace of his minor upset with Lily gone by the time Dorcas was here. Tonight was not going to be about responsibility. It was going to be about getting drunk off their arses, laughing at random shit and forgetting how much the world is a bastard right now. He was still fairly tidied up from when his brother had been here earlier -- don't think about that -- so it wasn't as if he had all that much to do. He just had to open the liquor cabinet, get some glasses and take seat in front of the fire. He opened the door to see Dorcas on the landing and just stood back to let her in wordlessly. He needed to get his wards back up and with any luck, the bitch downstairs would knock and get her head lopped off, thus improving his mood immensely. "You look as cheery as I feel." He told her, shutting the door a few minutes later. To her credit, Dorcas hadn't cried at all -- yet. Somehow, she felt too numb to cry. At least Sirius understood, a bit. She was afraid to ask why he was here and not at Godric's Hollow, especially after his comment about the end of Team Black Potter being over. Of course, she and Marlene weren't close the way that James and Sirius were, but it seemed as though they had both fucked up royally. Deciding she wasn't going to ask (Sirius would tell her if he wanted to), she walked in and flopped down in front of his fireplace. "Been a rough fucking weekend, hasn't it?" she mumbled, then took another sip of elfwine. No, this was definitely not strong enough. "I'm going to get pissed. Don't let me write in my journal." Saying this, Dorcas set the bottle down, staring at its dark colour and feeling disgusted. There wasn't that big of a difference between the colour of wine and the colour of blood, really, and she felt... Well, fuck. She didn't want to think about that. "It's charmed so I can't talk to Corpse Munchers, but Merlin knows who else gets violent when insulted," Dorcas sighed. "I get pretty fucking violent when insulted but luckily, we're both getting very drunk." He gave a slightly smile, then winced because that instantly made him think of James. Was this what his life was going to be like from now on? Was he just always going to feel like this when anything reminded him? He hated it. Hopefully he wouldn't remember it for much longer. "If you haven't already started." He moved to flop on the floor in front of the table where he had put the drinks. "Say when." He told her, pouring them both a couple of large drinks to help this along. Dorcas said "When" as soon as her glass was nearly full, and then picked it up and drank as much as she could in one long chug without making herself sick. The alcohol burned as it went down, and after her discussion with Marlene over her journal, she was feeling a little queasy. "Right now would be a very good time to take some acid," she mused. It would be nice, she thought to get lost in a world of swirling colours where consciousness was barely there, where she wasn't responsible for anything. "Too bad my dad's dead." The comment was off-hand, but it was still painful to say. And it was hard to admit that her dad was good for something other than supplying drugs. Well, he wasn't, really, but he was the only parent she had. After taking another drink, she sat down on the floor next to Sirius with her legs crossed. Knowing what to say was still difficult, but maybe they could just drink in silence for a bit. Curiosity was still thudding at the back of her mind. She wanted to ask what was going on between Sirius and James, but it hardly seemed appropriate to ask. Finally, she settled on, "What shall we drink to?" "I have the rest of your pot but that's about all I have. I've been busy this week." More to the point, he'd been down in the dumps all week and had needed cheering up. That meant inebriation, sex and usually someone to make him laugh. "Think we need more than the ability to raise the dead to get through this week, Dor." He tipped his up near the top as well and picked up his glass. "I don't know. Drink to your health. Or someones health. Drink to peace, may it come like a whore on a Saturday night." With that glorious thought, he lifted his drink to her. Half-heartedly, Dorcas giggled at the toast. "To peace, coming like a whore on a Saturday night." She clinked her glass against Sirius's and then knocked back what was left in her cup. Mid-way through this, she realised the double entendre of coming and snorted with laughter, spraying alcohol out from her nose. It burned, but she was laughing. With the back of her hand she wiped her nose and mouth. There was booze on her shirt, but it wasn't as though she didn't already look stupid enough, drinking post-Cruciatus use. She also wanted to ask Sirius if he thought what she'd done was terrible, but she was afraid she wouldn't like the answer. Besides, it was easier to laugh, drink, and forget. Refilling her glass, she added, as an afterthought, "I don't think that whores come all the time, Sirius. Sometimes, I'm pretty sure they're faking it." Sirius almost choked when alcohol was sprayed everywhere by the other person and then started laughing when he realised he just choked on a coming joke. Oh, Merlin, it felt good to just laugh! He really needed it considering the last couple of days. He nursed his drink and took another sip, before giggling stupidly again. It just felt good to laugh even if it wasn't a laughing matter. Who the hell cared? "Do you think boy whores fake it? I mean, how do you fake that? Girls can do it but it seems wrong that boys can't." Dorcas had to remind herself not to drink too fast, else she'd be making incendiary comments to Death Eaters (again) and getting sick all over Sirius's flat. At least, though, they were talking about something other than the battle that had happened last night, which was a relief. After all of the explaining she'd done in the last twelve hours, it was good to think about something else, even if it was... prostitutes. As a child, Dorcas had lived in one of the worst neighborhoods of Birmingham, the kind of place middle class people didn't dare go, where drug users and prostitutes sat on the curb. She'd met plenty of whores in her day, but Dorcas couldn't say she'd ever discussed the topic of faking orgasms with them. She looked into her glass, an expression of deep contemplation on her face. "I can't say I've ever asked a gigolo if he fakes it," she said honestly. "But considering that we've got childbirth and all that, I think it's a fair swap." "I've never understood the practice of man whoring. I mean, you'd really have to get it up an awful lot in a very short space of time and I have no idea how people keep it up." There he went again, bursting out laughing at his own absolutely terrible joke. He took a drink and enjoyed the complete randomness of the conversation. He liked that he could just kick back and forget and he was already feeling miles better. Again, a look of thought crossed over Dorcas's face as she thought seriously (well, as seriously as one ever could think of such things) about the topic of having to keep up constant erections. "There are charms for that, I think," she told Sirius, wiggling her eyebrows up and down. "I thought that if anyone knew about them, it'd be you." Upon realising how that sounded (either that Sirius was seriously promiscuous or incapable of keeping it up), she snorted with laughter and took another drink. "Do not insult the puppy or my stamina, Meadowes." Sirius told her, finishing the glass and leaning forward to pour another. His mouth was already a little warm but he was more than willing to get a good lot of alcohol into him very quickly. Providing he didn't throw up over her in the process. He thought he had a better stomach than that though. "You don't need to hit me with a fucking cruciatus to know I have stamina. I used to be a beater." He pointed at her as if that explained everything and then picked up his drink. "And I was living with Remus and Marlene, king and queen of obscenely adorable couples and I survived." He pointed to his chest, "Stamina, I tell you." Okay, she just had to laugh at that. She didn't want to think about Marlene, though... Or Remus... For a moment, her mind flickered to the panicked thought of, what will happen when he is better and finds out -- he hates me already. But she pushed it away. It was unpleasant, and she didn't want to think unpleasant things right now. She wanted to think about whores and booze and Sirius's stamina (or lack thereof) and anything else that was silly and might come up. "Sirius," Dorcas replied in her most earnest voice, "The mere fact that you refer to your genitalia as 'the puppy' is a testament to its lack of stamina." "Why is it so different than calling it a cock? Ones a bird. At least dogs are great. Birds -- Sir Hootie aside -- aren't great." Sirius played with his drink, swishing it from side to side and watching the liquid move as he relaxed further down onto the floor. This was a lot more comfortable than sitting on the chair. This was a lot more comfortable than awkward silences and arguements back at Godrics Hollow. This was fun. "When did running around killing the bad guys stop being fun, Dor? It used to be fun. It's not fun now." For a moment, Dorcas contemplating just ignoring the comment about 'killing the bad guys,' but it seemed kind of hard to ignore. "One," she began, clearing her throat, "You can call it a cock without it being ridiculous because cocks are mean and peck people's eyes out and cocks can fuck and possibly choke you. Puppies just chew your slippers." She took a drink before continuing, "Therefore, two, your referring to yours as 'puppy' just makes me think that it's going to... slobber around down there or something. Three, killing the bad guys stopped being fun when they started killing back." Having said that, she flopped onto her back and stared at Sirius's ceiling. "One," He held up his hand to show the significance of how important this was, "My penis is not mean. It's very giving. It's just very excitable, like a puppy is." In his head, this made total sense. He took another gulp before giving her two fingers up and then laughing to himself at how it looked. Oh well, it probably wasn't the first set of fingers Dorcas has had. "Two, it's not slobber than comes out it, though it can fuck people and probably has thrust more people than my fist has so whatever that means, I don't care because I'm losing track of my sentence." He sighed at the third number, bringing his third finger up and quietly adding, "Three, they're killing family, not us. 'Cept Edgar and fuck knows what happened there. Part of me..." He took a drink for the courage to come out with it. "Part of me wants to say, want to play that game, fine, we'll do it back but I'm pretty sire that makes me a bastard." Dorcas heaved an enormous sigh and then tipped back her drink, spilling some of it because she was drunk, uncoordinated, and lying on the ground. "When you want to prove to me the..." she searched for the right word in her mind, but was having trouble thinking of it. "The prowess of your puppy, owl me, Sirius." She coughed and sat up, wiping her face with the bottom of her shirt. "And yeah," she added, "Saying that does make you a bastard. As much of a bastard as using the Cruciatus Curse on people like Rodolphus fucking Lestrange makes me a bitch." "What do I do, take a picture? I think you're meant to ask someones name before photographing them." Sirius shrugged and pulled his legs up under him to get more comfortable. "Besides, I have nothing to prove. And it's all Aggies fault anyway." It was very convienient to blame her when she's not here, because it was partially her fault. "Dorrie, you were always a bitch." Sirius laughed at her, taking a deep breath and sighing. "That's why I like you, remember?" Anyway, it would have been great if it had've hit the bastard. "Which one of Dolphs midgets did you hope to get though?" Always a bitch? Dorcas sent Sirius a faux glare and sat up on her elbows, putting her glass down on the floor. She was slurring a little bit now, as she'd had more to drink that Sirius, drunk more quickly, and also probably couldn't hold her liquor as well. "You're just sayin' I'm a bitch because I insulted your willy," she giggled. "I'll bet that it's furry, too. But you don't need to take a photograph. What I meant was that when you're ready to prove it's not furry and won't eat my slippers, you can prove it in person with some... sexing-type things." She paused for a minute, then added, "I'm not sure what 'eat my slippers' equates to in this metaphor." "No, I think you're a bitch cause I like you and most of the girls I like are total bitches." Sirius took a drink, as if to punctuate his point. "It's why I like them and why I had to warm to Evans, because it took me a while to realise what a right cow she could be." And only from him could that have been meant in the highest regard and been entirely complimentry. "I'm not the one with the fur, thank you very much." He told her, sticking his tongue out childishly. "And I don't eat slippers, unless that's a euphemism for something naughty which is dependent on which naughty thing is whether or not I do it." He was sure that made some kind of sense. Definitely needed another drink. Dorcas was in the middle of taking another drink when she heard what Sirius said, and coughed on it -- she really couldn't hold her liquor literally or metaphorically tonight. "Oh, no. You did not just put the image of Remy's furry wolf willy in my mind, Sirius Black. You did not." She had to take another drink to drown that thought away. It was for Marlene only. And Marlene -- actually, Remus was barely alive right now. That thought deserved a second drink. Her glass was empty. She refilled it. "Besides, I've heard that wolves have small cocks," she told Sirius as she poured the booze into her glass. "Not sure about werewolves, of course. I'm pretty sure that most people aren't paying attention to the willy when they're up against a werewolf." "It aint that bad," Sirius said, trying not to laugh as he cocked up his own vocabulary. Too much Agnes time. Possibly too much drink. Or not enough. "I mean, it's been a while since I've seen it but it wasn't all that small then and he's grown a lot." He really didn't have to tell her that but since when did Sirius not push a boundry if there was one to be pushed? "Though I'll remember that next time I piss off a werewolf. Check for dick size and furryness." He needed something stronger than this if they were discussin Fenrir Greyback's dick, so he went for the other bottle. It took a second for Dorcas to realise that they were talking, in reality, Remus Lupin's penis. "Sirius, my friend," said Dorcas, raising her glass. "I'm not going to ask how you know about Remus's furry werepenis. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were gay together." Another drink. Her head was swimming right now and any ability she'd had before to censor herself was completely gone. "At least he doesn't get off on torturing himself with silver like Greyback apparently does. I wonder if he likes being tied up, too... I could lure him into bed, tie him up, and then call the DMLE. It'd be fucking ace." Dorcas had reached the point where she was so drunk that there was nothing else she could do but drink more, preferably until she passed out. "Don't worry about my safety or Greyback's greasy paws, though," she continued. "I've slept with worse, trust me." "No, I just have no concept of boundries and tend to think everyone is as comfortable with showing their appearance as I am." He poured into her glass, not even bothering to as when, just filling it half up. If she was pissed a skunk, then he wouldn't feel so bad if he had been and he's appreciate it more in the morning. "I don't know about him when he's in his furries. I haven't thought to ask. Though from me, 'what does a werewolf cock actually look like' probably wouldn't be much of a shock. I'm very inquiss-- inquer-- I ask a lot of questions." "What are you on about, Meadowes? Since when do you know about Greyback's SM fetishes?" He snorted, trying not to laugh at the idea of Greyback tied up like that. "Could Remus hit him if you did that? He'd probably like it. They might both really like it." He made a face. "Oh, disgusting." He downed the rest of his glass. "Siriusssssssss..." Dorcas slurred, taking what she meant to be a sip, but then promptly turned into a gulp of what he had poured her. "You're being dith - disgusting. I dun wanna watch Remy and Fenarse bitch slapping each other like... pissy girls and then wankin' off." Her Brummie accent was heavier than usual now, and she got up on a knees, inching over to Sirius. "You're a good matey, though. I'm rather fond of you." She leaned down and gave him a motherly kiss on the forehead before falling over onto the floor with a thud, dead to the world. "Pffft, girls!" Sirius said, though of course it wasn't to anyone in particular. He wiped his forehead and tried to stand up, finding he was a little off balance but wasn't awful yet. He lifted her on to the couch, telling her unconcious form "you need to go on a diet, you're too fucking heavy," before heading into his own room to finish having a drink. He left the door open so he could see if she started to choke but she was alright so she'd probably stay alright. Be a bloody hilarious way for her to kick it, though! Pushing the blanket from the bed, he made sure he could still see her if she woke up and decided to get back to business. |