RP: Backstory for Tattles and Siddles Who: Tate and Sid When: BACKDATED WAY BACK to January 2002. Where: Streets of London What: To get out of trouble, Sid dares Tate. Warnings: Not entirely SFW?
This should have been an easy one. The problem, really, was that Sid wasn't organised. He was spur of the moment, acting as and when he felt the need take him. That kind of action, well, usually it went well, but when it didn't, it was down to his wits to see him out of whatever trouble it was he'd managed to get them into.
The problem this time was that he'd been with Tate. They'd been walking the streets of Diagon Alley when Sid had brushed against a wizard and managed to come away with his purse. It was stupid in broad daylight, quite foolhardy, but just at a glance, he'd thought the man had too much and while Sid had none, well, it was only natural that he should have relieved him of some.
But they'd been spotted. Rather than drop the wallet, he'd grabbed the American's hand and scarpered. No point sticking around here where they'd be caught.
They ended up down an alleyway in muggle London, and he wasn't sure they'd lost them, wasn't certain of it, really could not be sure, but there was a chance that they'd gone to fetch an auror. He'd not have been surprised, the way his luck went. Already, his mind was ticking and whirring away, trying to think of a way out of the mess if they did get caught, because it wasn't as though Sid had some kind of place they could hide out in. The way they were pressed close in the alley, well, it gave him an idea or two. How to get away from the responsibility, from anyone thinking they'd have had anything to do with it because really, they'd not be so foolhardy as to try what he was about to try if they had really done it, would they? But explaining it to Tate like that wouldn't run. He'd not agree, not get it and it just wouldn't work.
Instead, he looked at him, just looked, out of breath and smirking just a little bit.
He'd just dare him to do so much as make a sound.
Tate had been the first to run into the alley. He had been pissed when he realized that it dead ended and they were morons, or rather he supposed he was the moron because he had chose the only alley that dead ended. Sid had just followed after him.
When the realization had hit, he had stopped and doubled at the waist, hands on his knees. He rested there, panting softly as he waited for an idea to strike. It was a good thing his father was a lawyer of sorts. Their asses might not spend too long in a holding cell. He was familiar with those.
Tate looked up at Sid then, one brow perked. He had that face. The fucking face that said he wasn't looking at Sid anymore, he was looking at chaos. "What?" He asked as he stood up right, wiping the sweat from his brow.
There. He was biting the bait that Sid was dangling. His smile grew if anything as he leant against the wall, almost nonchalant for someone who was more than likely about to be arrested. But he had a plan. A way out. There was always a way out. And now, well, Tate could help with it. He just had to goad him into it.
He pushed himself and crowded into his friend's space a bit until his mouth was close to his ear. When he spoke, he made sure his lips brushed the shell of Tate's ear.
"Bet you I can stay quiet longer than you," he said, voice low, and didn't explain any more on it. If he explained, he'd lose in more ways than one and he didn't fancy getting arrested.
Tate backed up when Sid stepped forward. He had only found brick wall behind himself though, bright eyes lifting to meet his friend's. Though then Sid was so close, he was pressed close and betting him. He looked confused though, quiet? Of course he was going to be quiet. They were on the run and he didn't need to be arrested. Sure, he'd already figured that he'd call his father to come bail him out but he hadn't found an alternative. Sid had to be fucking mad though if he thought that if they just stayed quiet they wouldn't be found out.
"What?" He asked, probably stupidly he'd realize a moment later. He had goosebumps on his arms from Sid whispering like that into his ear. It had also caused his pants to feel just a bit tighter. He was shaking it off though, he didn't need to have an erection when someone finally caught up to them.
"You'll see," Sid said, not moving from where he'd crowded Tate against the wall, though he put hands on him now, roaming hands that found a little more than he was looking for. Suddenly, this stopped being so much about not getting arrested. Tate was interested now. Now, this was a challenge.
He'd never really clocked before that the American was shorter than him, that he'd had to duck his head some to speak to him so close. Now though, it was kind of thrilling. In his mind, this all made sense because no one would be so stupid as to try this, so it must be true that they'd had nothing to do with it, officer, they were here the whole time. Add to that moments ago when Sid had stashed the purse in the gutter above their heads, and they had to be safe.
This may very well turn into a game of oneupmanship, but Sid didn't think either of them would mind that so much. He kissed him, nipping at his lower lip and pressing himself impossibly closer. It was electric, how fast the waves of want washed over him, but he had to keep quiet because now the bet was on.
Tate squirmed at first, roaming hands also felt a lot like hands looking for a spot to hide a purse. It took a moment but when he realized that Sid wasn't interesting in finding a spot to hide the purse, he relaxed and even leaned back against the wall. He was getting the idea. If someone saw them, they'd think they were just some kids making out in an alley and if there wasn't a lot of noise then no one would come check to be sure that all articles of clothing were in fact still on. This had to work, he didn't want to call his father.
When Sid's lips touched his, he kissed the other back. At the nipping of his lower lip, he slipped his own tongue out to silently ask permission for Sid's tongue to play. His hands moved then, one sliding around the taller man's middle, then up and under his shirt. A warm hand pressed flat against Sid's back, before nails scratched across his lower back. Tate's other hand, the one attached to the arm that was facing the opening to the alley, loosely draped over the other's shoulder.
He was trying to ignore the noises that were threatening to bubble up with each new touch. He was always known for making noise, it was why silencing charms were one of his favorite things. They always kept his activities contained to that one area. He only forgot them when he was far too drunk, and with the drinking age so much lower in London... Well he'd been drinking a bit since he got to London.
Tate seemed to get what Sid was trying to do, though the reality of their situation was probably that neither of them really needed to be getting quite so involved with this as they were. But that bit wasn't echoing terribly loud in Sid's mind compared to the hand that Tate had splayed across his stomach. That part was far louder, and his pulse racing, their hurried breaths and the blood roaring in his ears, they were all deafening things that might have made themselves heard otherwise.
Had he expected this to be difficult? Not really, he'd not thought about it much. Had he expected Tate to be as good as he was? He wasn't sure about that, either. He was more an act first type, think a bit later, and that was probably why they were in this situation to begin with, but there it was.
No sounds, he had to remind himself, but that didn't stop him from gasping when Tate was touching his bare skin, when his nails scratched his back and he wasn't about to lose this, no, he wasn't.
He was a bit brazen, tugging him close by the belt, thumbing at the catch, but this wasn't his fault and he wasn't about to lose.
Tate heard the gasp, he wondered if it counted as a noise. It was technically a noise. He didn't want to pipe up though, he was certain if he actually said anything that definitely counted as a noise and he'd lose. It was ridiculous, and some part of his brain knew that the entire thing was incredibly ridiculous. Still, he couldn't turn down a bet. He wanted to win, though he wasn't entirely sure just what he would be winning.
As he felt the tug, his hips moved a bit with it. A groan threatened to slip from him, he broke the kiss only so that he could suck down the noise. He bent his head in then, nipping at the other's jaw. Whils nails scratched down Sid's back, his hand slipping into the back of Sid's jeans, before he cupped the other's ass. He squeezed, nails biting into the soft skin of the other's behind. While he squeezed the other's ass, he bit a spot just below Sid's ear. He sucked at the spot to leave a little mark, just to be a total pain in his friend's ass.
Sid would have been the first to argue that no, a gasp did not count as a sound because it hadn't been a vocalisation, and surely they weren't counting their breathing as noises here? That'd just be cruel and ensure that they would both fail at that first hurdle.
He'd not expected Tate to start biting at his jawline, and he probably should have anticipated the feeling of a mark being left on his skin, but how could he have known this was coming? He'd only come up with the idea a few short minutes ago to begin with. He decided to go one better, though, pressing close and grinding their hips together simply because he could, though that didn't really help his own attempts at winning because that sensation was altogether impossible not to let out a sharp breath at. But it still didn't count, nope.
Tate let out a gasp of his own, it was in that moment that he decided that no. That didn't count as breaking the rules of the game. His curiosity about the prize had slipped from his mind the moment Sid's hips pressed against his. He could feel something pressing against him, their bodies so close. His eyes may have even fluttered, just a bit. He hadn't been intimate with someone in a bit, not since coming to London.
It was then though that he felt a blinding light and he ducked down real fast. His arm came up to cover his eyes, wondering if they were caught. He was suppressing a laugh, his heart was hammering in his chest. Crystal clear blue eyes were looking at him from where he'd ducked down, grinning. He could still apparate, the ability had yet to leave him. In one quick motion he reached a hand up, wrapped it around Sid's wrist, and apparated them. They landed with a thud in the entry way to his father's London home. There were moving boxes all over the house and tarps thrown over furniture. It was just Ambrose and Tate living in the house, Ambrose had not met Quin just yet. The house was just for the two boys, his siblings had gone off to live other places.
As they landed, Tate was laughing and rolled on to his back. He shook his head, forgetting all about the purse that Sid had, he was sure of it.
Sid had acted fast. He'd been completely absorbed in Tate and what they were doing, but the moment a light flashed, he was reaching up, hand going to the gutter and pulling the purse away in the very same moment that Tate's hand wrapped about his free wrist. They landed and Sid's legs finally gave out from under him, but to do them some credit, they had managed to support him through their little game even when it had begun to get difficult.
And then Tate started laughing and Sid dropped the purse, looking over at his friend with a grin.
"I win," he said finally, since laughter was definitely means of losing their game. The fact that their game hadn't helped them with being caught had nothing to do with it. The point was that Sid had won. "Wonder what the prize is?" He asked, leaning back as he rested his weight on his hands.
"Mmm, you get the bed?" Tate chuckled as his head turned to look at the man next to him. His eyes were sparkling with mischief, he could still feel the adrenalin rushing through his system. It was the first time he had felt alive since his mother died. It was one of the many bad decisions he would be making that would help walk him down the path to his addiction, constantly chasing that feeling of feeling alive.
He pushed himself up from the ground then as his father's gruff, sleep filled, voice bellowed magically around them and through the hall. Tate just laughed and started up the stairs to his room, all the while waving off his father's voice since the man hadn't bothered to leave his bed for this.
"Nah, we can just share," Sid said with a shrug, not at all self conscious on this issue. Things had been odd for him of late. His parents had been gone a year and he'd lost the pub a few months before he'd met Tate, as it happened. But he'd been a good thing. He'd been something that made him smile, someone that he could have a laugh with and forget the fact that he had nowhere to go, nowhere to belong anymore.
It made him not care, honestly, because he still had these friends and Tate had done more than he'd ever thought for him. He pushed himself up, grabbing up the purse and following along after his friend.