Who: Tristan and Constantine Rivers What: Brothers reunited at the Alumni Ball (Saturday 24th) Where: The Ball Garden When: The Alumni Ball Rating: 15? Complete || Closed
Tristan was dressed in a long, dark purple dress robe and a white shirt. Black trousers. Tight. He had dressed up properly tonight. It was a ball, of course, and he intended to look his best.
He'd also been told that Taff was going to be there. And if anything, Tristan wanted his brother to remember him like this. Looking good. He wanted this to be the image that burnt itself into his brother's mind.
Tristan had arrived.
Taff couldn't go into the hall. Hell, students weren't even allowed to loiter in the entrance hall outside, where guests were being welcomed and offered champagne on their way inside. Only 8th years were permitted. Everyone else was to keep to the common rooms and grounds. He wanted to see his brother so bad he thought he might burst downstairs and demand it, but he'd probably just be sent off to bed after losing about two hundred house points. Instead, he was hanging around the dungeon corridor that led towards Slytherin. If Tristan were to start looking for him, he'd look in his room right?
Taff himself was dressed up, but trying not to look like he'd dressed up too much. It was an odd balance of casual dressy, one of his nicer robes and his nice-but-not-Sunday-nice shirt and Slytherin tie. He paced, hoping Tristan would think to come there first.
Tristan had a drink in hand and had just been told to make himself at home.
Well, when Tristan was at home he was a very lax person.
He took his champagne and wandered towards his old house. He had no doubt he wouldn't be allowed down into the common room, but he could at least see if-
Tristan could sense Constantine before he even saw him.
"Constantine," he said in a sing song voice, stopping and leaning himself against the dungeon wall. "I need a date for the ball."
Taff spun on heel at the sound of his name. His name in Tristan's voice! "Tristan!" He exclaimed, unable to hide his childish glee even if he'd wanted to. He rushed towards Tristan, not bothering to heed the drink in his brother's hand as he threw himself into a hug, squeezing him tight, "I missed you! Are you ok? You..." He squeezed a little tighter, "You're eating ok then?" He grinned playfully and pulled back, figuring he should let go now before he decided he didn't want to.
Tristan hugged back, breathing in his brother's scent and sighing happily. "I missed you so much," he whispered, wanting to sink into Taff and never have to emerge. "I missed you. I'm here. I'm here to see you. Tonight. I don't care about the others. I've missed you-" he reluctantly let go of his brother when Taff pulled back. And Tristan grinned.
"I'll grab another glass of this and we can go for a walk. They've heated up the rose garden-"
"Another glass? So this one's mine right?" Taff beamed and appropriated his brother's champagne without waiting for a reply, taking a sip only to wince at the fizzy alcohol in his throat, "Yeah, ok." He shrugged it off and continued, "A walk in the gardens? Sounds ok to me!" Truthfully, Tristan could've told him they were going to sit on a cold, hard stone together and Taff still would've happily gone with him. He was far too excited to be with his brother to care about where he was with his brother. "So, what have you been up to? I feel like.. feel like we haven't spoken in forever-" Constantine frowned, the thought suddenly occurring properly. What if they were drifting apart? "Do you want me to meet you down in the rose garden? I can sneak in if I go past the greenhouses..."
"Yes, it's for you," Tristan smiled, heading back the wya he'd come. "If you can get down there without being caught then go down there. I'll get myself another drink and make some excuses," he said, slowing to walk beside his brother. "I've been fine. Making money, paying the bills, the usual, Taffy. We haven't spoken in a long time but-" he reached up, his hand resting against the back of Taff's neck. "We don't need to speak all the time. As much as I'd like to. I miss you just as much every day-"
They reached the end of the corridor and Tristan let Taff go.
"I'll see you in a few minutes. Don't let anyone see you with the alcohol-"
Taff frowned and shrugged. They didn't need to talk all the time, but he wanted to. Not having Tristan around was like not having a limb... or some other part of him, since he was still mostly ok at functioning. It just didn't feel right. He savoured the feel of his brother's strong hand against the back of his neck. No one felt quite like Tristan. With the champagne in his hand he stood at the end of the corridor for a moment, hesitating to leave his brother, as if there might be a chance he wouldn't find him again. "Ok, the gardens. Got it... I promise, I won't. I'll be a ninja getting up there ok?" He offered, tipping the glass to his brother before taking another sip. Nope, still just as strong as before!
"Good boy," Tristan praised, touching Taff's cheek gently before turning to head up to the hall again.
He stopped and turned halfway, giving Taff a lopsided smile.
"I've missed you, baby brother. Don't ever think I don't," Tristan said, his face showing a mixture of happiness at being here and regret that, once more, their time together would be cut short. "I love you."
The last time he'd said that they'd been...they'd been together. In a bed. Tristan had to turn away then. Did Taff remember? Did he remember any of it? Had he oppressed it? Merlin- for that time again.
Taff grinned stupidly, a thirteen year old kid again instantly around his older brother. "Love you too Trist," He said, his words so sincere it hurt. Constantine loved one person in the whole world, and tonight he'd be able to hang out and talk to him all night, with alcohol as a bonus. This was easily going to be the best night of school so far.
"Don't make me wait!" He added playfully as Tristan turned away before darting off himself towards the stairs so he could get up and out of the school. Once in the rose gardens, set up specially for the ball just as they had been during the Yule ball years before, Constantine ducked into a small alcove beside one of the school walls. There was a small bench, which was cute, but a little too small to be useful to more than two very intimate people. Taff sat down and looked up at the sky, sipping his champagne half-heartedly. He wasn't much of a fan, he decided.
Tristan breezed through again, getting caught up for a few moments by old classmates and teachers. But he was on a mission. As politely as possible he excused himself with another glass of champagne, planning on avoiding all formal mingling the rest of the evening. He would sneak in to get them food, sure, but between then and now it was him and his little brother.
He found Taff on the bench amongst the warm roses. He sat, his cloak spilling around him rather majestically. But he was looking at his little brother.
"You look nice this evening," he said, his voice a lot softer than he intented. "I hope it wasn't for me." Tristan winked though, of course, he wanted that. He wanted Taff to want him so badly-
The bench was a tight fit, but a little bodily contact against his brother never upset Constantine. He snuggled against him despite the warmth of the magical garden and clutched his champagne, wondering if it was the bubbles going to his head, or if it was just having Tristan so close.
"I always look this good," Taff replied playfully, deciding not to admit that, yeah, it was for Tristan. He wanted his brother to see him looking nice, since it would be the last time he'd see him till the next Hogsmeade weekend, unless Tristan was sincere in saying he'd come to the Quidditch match. "You look great," he said after a few moments, "who're you dressing up for?" He said it airily, but there was a serious glint in his eyes. An 'are you seeing someone after?' glint.
"You do always look good," Tristan agreed. "And you're so modest with it," he teased, nudging his little brother gently, wary that Taff had had half a glass of champagne. "And thank you. I do try. I am coming back to see all my peers, after all. I want them to think I've made something of my life and that I'm not, you know, in prison or something." He was only half joking. "But thank you. I'm glad you like it. I want you to be proud of me, too," he added, patting Constantine's leg. Just a touch. He wanted to touch. He wanted to touch. It had been so long since he'd-
Tristan was so tempted to throw himself against Constantine, pin him to the floor or drag him back to one of the dorms and just- oh, he just- oh.
He coughed.
"Do you...are you ok?"
"I know, I'm the picture of modesty. More modest than you-" Constantine beamed, fully understanding the irony of his statement and cuddled against Tristan's side a little more, wishing he were slightly younger. If he were younger it wouldn't have looked odd if he'd pulled Tristan's cloak around himself. "I'm proud of you. Proud to be your little brother," He said, and then sipped again, because the sooner he finished it, the sooner he could put the glass down. He was getting tired of holding it.
But then he realised that without the glass in his hands, he wouldn't have anything in his hands and....well idle hands and all that... "I'm fine... I guess. Fine as ever. I mean, I still don't want to be here, but I guess I might as well finish what I started right?" He sighed, looking down at the ground before glancing back up at Tristan, "You're not lonely at home are you?"
Tristan sipped another mouthful of his champagne. "Of course I'm lonely," he said after a pause. "I don't really have any friends outside of you. But it's ok," he nodded, patting his little brother's leg again. Just to touch. "You'll be home in a little while. When you've gotten your exams."
The arm slung around Taff's shoulders again, pulling him closer to his side if it were possible. "I'm proud of you too. You know that, don't you? I love you so much, Taffy."
This was the perfect romantic scene, it really was. The only thing that was standing in their way right now was their blood tie.
Taff's eyebrows shot up and he pouted, "Tristan! I don't want you to be lonely!" He whined. Though really, at least Tristan wasn't seeing someone. He pulled his brothers cloak around him taking his brother's arm around his shoulders as an excuse. "You should get a cat," He said conclusively, "So you've got something to talk to. Stop you going mad. You're no good to me if you're crazy Trist." He wiggled his leg, rubbing it against his brothers. He looked at the glass in his hands. Not much left... So he simple tipped the rest into his mouth and swallowed, wincing at the alcohol. Glass empty he placed it down by his feet and snuggled closer. "It's almost Christmas you know. Soon.. I can come home for two weeks," Taff said softly, looking up at the moon.
"I don't want a cat, I want you," Tristan sighed, sliding his arm around Taff's shoulders and pulling him against his side, their bodies joined from shoulder to ankle. "But missing you just makes it feel so good when I'm with you," he added, resting his forehead against Taff's temple and sighing against his cheek. "Are you cold, Taffy? We can go back inside if you are. I don't mind hanging out in a corridor all night if you want to," Tristan said, though the rose garden was warm and comfortable, really. More comfortable than a cold corridor would be.
"I'm looking forward to Christmas. You-" Tristan stopped then, hestitated, then pressed a big, wet kiss to his brother's cheek. It would have been more. It could have been cleaner, sweeter, more tender. Everything was perfect for it. "My baby brother." As though he needed reminding.
A shiver ran through Taff's body as his brother kissed his cheek. And he tried his best to look unimpressed by how sloppy it was, but he wasn't, so it was hardly convincing. "Yeah, I guess so. Absence makes the heart grow fonder or something right?" Taff replied, though he didn't believe it for a second. It just felt miserable.
"I don't wanna go inside," he added after a few moments. Because then they couldn't cuddle like they were. He was happy where he was. He snuggled even more, tempted to almost climb on top of him. Odd feeling. He rested his head on Tristan's shoulder, starting to feel slightly dizzy. Light headed. It was pleasant. "This is nice," he said softly, "I love you Tristan."
"As long as you don't start falling asleep on me," Tristan replied. "You're a big boy, I can't carry you to bed anymore Taffy," he smiled softly. It was nice here though, cuddling. He could hear the rest of the party behind him but he really didn't care.
Tristan's hand crept over Taff's leg, looking for his brother's hand whilst the one around Taff's shoulders drew gentle circles on his neck.
"I'm not a baby," Taff replied, without opening his eyes or moving as his brother's hand crept across his legs. If anything, he got a little stiller, concentrating his drifting mind on not thinking about that hand on his leg. Close.. "I don't fall asleep willy-nilly," He added, and then giggled, because really. He'd just said 'willy-nilly', "Besides. I'm not gonna fall asleep whilst you're around. I wanna be with you. Wanna spend time..." Turns out, skipping dinner in his excitement had not been a good idea. Then again, he hadn't been expecting champagne..which he was actually starting to think he was enjoying, "Are you gonna finish that?" He asked, pointing to Tristan's barely touched glass.
"You just said willy-nilly," Tristan replied, smirking because he thought his little brother was a little on the tipsy side. "I'm glad you're here too. I want to be with you-" he stopped. Because that was the end of the sentence. He wanted to be with Taff.
"I can't get you drunk, little brother. It's bad. If you're drunk then I really am going to have to take you back to your bed, aren't I?" Tristan whispered into Taff's ear as he handed over his glass. He could go and get some more hopefully. And loosening Taff up wouldn't be too bad.
"I know what I said," Taff replied hotly, taking the glass happily. Tipsy was nice, and drinking more would only be nicer. He'd never really gotten THAT drunk before. Tristan had never let him. So Constantine really wasn't afraid of getting drunk or the hangover that would follow. He sat up and happily drank the remainder of his brother's champagne as well. "I'm not getting drunk," Taff told Tristan, slumping back against his shoulder. He pulled his brother's cloak around them tighter and breathed a sigh against Tristan's neck, "Are you coming to the game next week? I want you to see me play."
"Of course I'm coming," Tristan said, wrapping his arms around his brother, pressing another soft kiss to Taff's cheek. A proper kiss. Gentle and loving."I wouldn't miss it for the world. I want to see you play. I want to tell everyone near me you're my little brother and I'm proud of you," he continued, his lips brushing over his brothers temple as he spoke. He rubbed Taff's stomach gently, slowly breathing in his scent. "And you know I'm not going to let you get drunk. Two glasses of champagne is enough." He wanted Taff to be a little bit receptive at least.
"Good," Taff replied, eyes closed. He swallowed heavily, his brother's hand on his stomach making him warm and comfortable and.. not it wasn't right. He made a small noise and pulled away from his brother before he got carried away. He almost slipped off the tiny bench and, instead, managed to stand up. But it wasn't easy. He wobbled. Oh, that's where that champagne had gone... "That's not fair, it's a special occasion!" Taff insisted despite himself. Young, reckless and no self control. He paced around Tristan and the bench slowly, casually, "You're no fun sometimes, you know that?" He poked his tongue out.
Tristan stood up as well, his sober state making him a little more dominant than Taff's presence despite his smaller stature. "You're underage," he said calmly, pressing his hand to Taff's chest. "I'm looking after you like a good big brother." He smiled and slid his hand slowly up to stoke Taff's neck. He was just unable to stop touching. "And don't poke your tongue out at me like that or there'll be trouble," he chided, taking a step forward, closer.
Taff pressed himself against the hand on his chest for a moment, savouring the notion. Despite having outgrown him a while ago, Taff never stopped looking up to his brother, even when he'd started looking down. That said, the alcohol fizzing in his belly and blood was making him a little devil-may-care, and he was in far too much of a playful mood to simply accept his brother's commands without a little bit of resistence. "Oh? And what're you gonna do about it huh?" He asked, leaning forward to poke his tongue out in Tristan's face, "nothing! Am I right? Nice try big brother!" He giggled again and pulled away from Tristan's hand.
Tristan didn't like being taunted at the best of times. But at least with his little brother he knew he could get away with a little revenge.
He smirked and then, with the hand still firmly on Taff's chest, pushed his brother back roughly, knowing there was a wall there to catch him.
And then Tristan was on him, shoving Taff hard against the wall, their faces inches apart.
"Don't toy with me, little brother," he purred, breath hot against Taff's lips. "You know I've always been able to take you." And oh, he'd take Taff. Hard. Right here. That lust, want, was burning in his eyes. "I could take you right now," he whispered, closing the gap between them so that their noses touched.
It was all a big fast for Taff to keep up with. His brain was trailing a few seconds behind the rest of him. One moment he was standing, the next his back was pressed against the rough brick wall of the school, and then Tristan was there. Against him, all over him, so close. So very, fucking, close.
He could feel Tristan's words across his lips, his brother's mouth so close to his that it almost hurt him not to close the gap. God he wanted it. He wanted to kiss him so terribly that he thought he might die if he didn't. But he couldn't.
Taff couldn't risk ruining his relationship with his brother just because he was toying with the idea that Tristan pressing up against him meant anything but sibling love, rivalry and play-fighting. But oh...
His head was spinning, his body warm in every place it was brushing against Tristan. He swallowed and parted his lips to say something, but forgot what it was. "Tristan-" He managed instead.
Something in the sky began to sparkle...
Tristan shivered visibly and closed his eyes for a moment.
What was the worst that could happen? Really? Taff was tipsy. Tristan could tell him anything if Taff didn't respond.
They were so close. His name was on his brother's lips-
"Taffy, please-" he started, leaning in to seal the kiss properly.
Taff's breath froze in his throat as Tristan moved closer, and their lips brushed. He was sure of it, so sure of it! But he never got a chance to savour it, and the moment never got the chance to finish, for at that exact moment something flashed above them in the sky. Despite himself, and his brother against him, and everything he wanted being only seconds away, despite knowing it would break the spell weaving between them, Constantine looked up.
The quarantine bubble began stretching over the sky, a silvery, oily, skin sliding across the sky and down towards the land. Fear gripped Taff instantly. He'd never seen anything like it, and he couldn't help his terror. His thoughts instantly leapt to Death Eaters and Voldemort and McGonagall's murder. "Tristan!" He cried, "what's happening?"
They were going to do it! Tristan couldn't believe it. That meant Taff wanted this too!
But then Taff looked away and Tristan was crushed. He felt physically crushed down with disappointment. But then Taff spoke. And he sounded scared. Tristan looked up as well, his lust and desire ebbing away to fear at the sight.
"I don't know, Taffy," he whispered, holding his brother tightly, protectively. "I won't let it hurt you," though."
Tristan considered their options for a moment, then took Taff's hand. "Come on," he said, and pulled his brother towards the Great Hall.