It was electric, feeling the hands against his cheek and the lips moving against his own; somewhere along the time the kiss had morphed from chaste to pouring unspoken words and emotions into it, and he felt his heart pitter at the idea of being wanted. Maybe it had been Gus who’d really died and this was his brain’s last hurrah before he perished – it certainly wouldn’t be the worst way to go. His own fingers flexed against the back of Basil’s neck to keep him in place, while he brought his hand to settle against the man’s waist, although that was more to keep his own balance as they both shifted closer to one another. Despite being nearly on top of him, Gus wanted to be closer to him.

Basil Foxwood filled the space around him, and as the man pulled him moved forward until there was nowhere else he could go, lest he wanted to straddle him and wind up in his lap; it wasn’t the worst option in the world, although his head spun with other possibilities of where that could lead, so instead he pressed forward, urgent and needy into the kiss. There were so many things he wanted to tell him, to show him. He was sorry for leaving and for running away; he was sorry for not fighting for him when he should have. But he wasn’t ever going to apologize for being in love with him. This might be the only chance in the world he got to do this, so Gus was going to do it right. His fingers untangled from the back of his neck as Basil pulled away from him, and his eyes flickered down to his lips, red and still kissable.

The desire to surge forward and claim them again thrummed in his blood, but instead he huffed a tiny laugh and nodded, not bothering to move from his current position. This was everything he’d ever wanted, and Gus vaguely wondered in the very back of his mind if it was happening because Basil felt sorry for him, but he pushed that thought away. After everything he deserved some happiness in his life, and if it was going to come in the form of Basil Foxwood, Gus wasn’t about to turn that away for anything. This moment would eventually turn to ash, blow up in his face as it always tended to do, but he pushed the thought into the back of his mind as he settled both of his hands on Basil’s shoulders, his head tilting as he offered the man a sheepish grin.

“Perfect.” He whispered as he wet his lips again, giving Basil a little push backward to put him on his back. While Gus wasn’t going to crawl into his lap, this option was almost as good – he ginger placed his hands on his thighs to spread the man’s knees apart (blasted robes made it difficult to maneuver and he silently cursed having to wear these forsaken professor robes) just so he could slide his own knee between them. Then Gus leaned down, placing his hands on either side of Basil’s head and gave the man another lopsided grin. The events of the past few minutes finally flitted into his brain, clarity, rather, and he found his cheeks tinged pink.

But then Gus leaned down into Basil’s space, although not quite kissing him just yet. “We can stop whenever it’s too much.” Because it felt right to give him an out he’d always desperately wanted each time they’d gotten here before. Finally, he closed the gap between them to kiss again, fevered and needy as he poured out how much in love he was with the man.

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Basil Foxwood

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Basil’s breath came out in small, embarrassing little pants as he waited for Lissington to react. The mature, reasonable part of his brain was still stalled, hinting at the fact that this could be a mistake, but the exhaustion of fighting simply bore down on him not to care anymore. If this too blew up into another fire, then at least he’d have done something to deserve it this time. The redhead’s quiet whisper raised goosebumps all along Basil’s spine then and a small, hopeful little smile managed to steal across his lips.

Gus pushed him gently backwards and Basil shifted such that he could lay back, flat, without bending too awkwardly. He never removed hold of Lissington’s robes as he went, ensuring the other could not simply pop up and run off. Partially it was lack of trust in that confusing, bumbling moment, but the other was… fear. What was he doing, really? What were they doing? (Or not doing?) Basil knew some of the mechanics of what entanglement produced a child, but - evidently - that was impossible here. The logistics and scientific impossibility still grated at some organized, too-academically inclined part of the brunette’s brain that he had a difficulty shutting off. He hadn’t had many such encounters before and in this moment, other than Gus, he couldn’t frankly think of any of them!

The redhead leaned over him then, not pinning Basil but certainly preventing his getting up easily, and the brunette let out a soft sigh of relief. Gus wasn’t going anywhere. He was still here. They could… figure this out together. Basil gave a deliberate nod and then yanked the other down by the front of his robes with more force than was necessary. The moment their lips collided he felt a flame lick up and down his entire body, aching to close the space between himself and Lissington. He felt heat and desire pooling in areas he hadn’t felt in longer than he dared to admit and finally with a means to satisfy (mostly) without guilt.

Basil couldn’t even begin to recount the number of dreams he’d had over the years of this very sensation, all linked back to Gus Lissington. When he’d been younger it had been relentless, haunting his nightmares and causing him to wake disoriented and unsatisfied. In the years Gus was… gone, it had happened less and less frequently until at last he was mostly able to shut that part of his brain into a small box. Basil had never felt the desire or arousal towards anyone else manifest the same way. He’d had inklings, and a few touch and go experiences here and there, but never… like this. He didn’t know if that was just because there was something else broken inside his head, or if it was a lack of connection that made it such. (Though, in retrospect, he knew of a great many gentlemen that could hitch off without any connection at a moment’s notice. So maybe it was something in his own head…?) Regardless, he felt it now.

Tugging the other down on top of him, Basil itched to roll over. To be the one commanding this precarious situation. It felt… a little bit ridiculous to splayed out on the floor as a grown man. Some part of Basil recognized this, even as he forced Lissington closer. The other’s long wizarding robes were also irritating him as Basil fumbled to undo them and force them aside. His own were discarded on the chair in his classroom, removed rather forcefully as they strangled him into submission after a long, miserable day of forced cheer. Basil hated wearing wizarding robes, and more often than not set them aside when he could. It was a habit after so many years of research now, just sitting in a dress shirt and waistcoat to limit restrictive movement. He hummed then, somewhat needily into Lissington’s mouth.

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Gus Lissington

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Gus groaned softly into Basil’s mouth as he felt him beneath him, and everything about the other’s arousal tickled his own libido; heat spiked through him and it took every ounce of his willpower to pull his hands from his robes and pin them above his head. Something in the back of his mind reminded him that would probably frighten Basil away, that he shouldn’t take more than what the man was willing to give, so instead he curled his fingers against the ground and focused on the taste of his mouth, although there were other places he was willing to put his tongue. He also may have pressed his knee further against him too, although he’d chalk it up to accidental shifting as he was pulled closer to him.

Then fingers were working at the robes he wore because they were much less stuffy than having to wear a godawful suit all day long, and Gus, reluctantly, pulled away from him just enough to peel them from his body, balling them tightly together and tossing them somewhere near the armchair. For good measure he fumbled with the shirt underneath, although he was in too much of a rush to pull it completely from his body, choosing instead to allow it to hang open as he leaned back down toward Basil. Soft, desperate pants escaped him as he focused on staring down at the man beneath him.

His free hand came up to clutch his shirt, long fingers twisting into the fabric before he moved to dip his fingers under the hem of his shirt, watching with bated breath to see just how the brunette was going to react. His skin was warm against his fingers, and he gently thrummed them against his skin before he smirked at him, and surged forward to kiss him relentlessly. He placed his hands on either side of the man’s head again to keep his balance, to remind him to keep them to himself as they itched to reach down and test the waters, to dip beneath the hem of his pants and see just how much he wanted this too.

But then Gus pulled back slightly, choosing to gently nip Basil’s bottom lip with his teeth. A desperate neediness washed over him, and he ached endlessly the more it was fueled by pure lust; blue eyes reflected it too, sheer lust for the brunette. “Let me touch you.” He whispered. Then he pressed a soft kiss against the corner of his lips.

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Basil Foxwood

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   Basil Foxwood

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Basil’s heart was pounding in earnest now. Every twitch or movement from the pretty redhead atop him sparked more haze in his mind and less restraint. How long had he been wanting this? How long had it really, truly been since he’d kissed Gus - or anyone - with such abandon? Basil didn’t know if the answer was even in this decade. He didn’t resist as Lissington pulled his hands back, startled for a moment that he’d gone too far. The other only pressed further into his groin however and Basil couldn’t help the groan that escaped him. It was an unfamiliar noise, one that caught him entirely by surprise even as the other made quick work of removing his own robes. Yes, Basil’s mind supplied needily. This was much more effective.

The brunette eyed Gus as his shirt came unbuttoned and he was intrigued as the former cursebreaker’s rather athletic chest and shoulders came into view. That was certainly new. Basil reached up to touch him gently, one hand sliding over Gus’ collarbone and up around his neck while the other pressed against the redhead’s abdomen and snaked under his shirt around Gus’ back to tug him down. It was no wonder the other was so heavy if he was carrying… all this about. Grey hues held blue then, a smug little grin stealing across Basil’s face as Gus studied him. (Well, if anyone had won this hand of cards, it was certainly Basil.)

As Gus slid long, warm fingers under the hem of his shirt then, Basil flinched. Either from alarm, or surprise, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t an active reaction and luckily the other seemed non-plussed by it as he gently untucked Basil’s formerly tidy shirt and pressed his hand fully against Basil’s own abdomen. The kiss that followed was relentless and Basil sighed into it, wrapping the arm around Gus’ neck tighter. He could feel Lissington’s neediness as it surged through the other’s kiss and all over his body. When the other pulled away just enough to breath something into his ear, everything inside of Basil cried out in the affirmative. Let me touch you.

It was like something out of his waking nightmare turned daydream. So many stars and planets and solar systems had to have aligned for this moment to become a reality. Basil could feel the world turning on its axis, Mercury in retrograde above them, even as he tilted his chin up a fraction and a playful little snarl took over his lips. “Let’s see it then,” he hummed back, a small challenge.

Granting such a permission was vastly extraordinary for Basil, and the moment did not go by unnoticed. He could sense the slight change in his own behaviours, even from when they’d danced the first time around. He’d been a scared, anxious little seventh year then, brain filled with so many concerns and dreams and frivolities that he didn’t know up from down. These days not much had really changed, but this… This was something he’d never quite been able to wrap his head around before. An evident detriment to them both.

It would be a lie if Basil didn’t admit to some trepidation however. He was concerned, about a lot of things. He didn’t want to think presently about what happened… next in their lives. Or about what happened even in the next few hours. He trusted Lissington for the next few seconds, though, even if that fear was the peak of them all.

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Gus Lissington

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Oh.

He had been the cause of that beautiful little noise coming from Basil’s throat, and Gus wanted to hear him make it again; it was an unusual sound to hear, something throaty and wonderful enough that it shot straight to his groin. Who needed to think when all he wanted to do was focus on hearing him making that noise again? Caught up in those thoughts, Gus hadn’t even realized that the brunette had reached up to touch his chest.

Basil Foxwood always had cold fingers; ever since he’d first taken his hand their seventh year, they’d been a coolness against the warmth of his. Sometimes Gust just liked to hold them within his own to warm them up, although the plan had backfired once or twice, resulting in him having hands himself. He felt himself sharply inhale as the man pressed his icicles against his chest, trailing them across skin and he held his breath for a moment until a cute little grin spread over the brunette’s lips before he was back in his space again.

This Basil was different then the one he knew.

He wasn’t hesitant, unsure, or pushing him away, all while telling him this was impossible. This Basil was sure of what he wanted and was giving just as much as he was taking. Gus wondered, albeit briefly, if he was trying to distract him from the grief that was consuming him. It was working though, if that was the case because the thought of his father’s death sat in the back of his mind, unmoving and unwilling to devour him as it had before, allowing him full concentration on the brunette. In fact, as Basil tightened his arms around his neck, all Gus could was concentrate on memorizing his lips against his own, and his body beneath him – it was a beautiful sight, and one that he’d waited most of his life to see. It was what spurred him to ask four little words, because he wanted to have something to think back on when the world fell to shit again.

Basil tilted his head up and granted words that made Gus chuckle quietly from the back of his throat, although his eyes glazed over with raw lust, and in that moment the only thing he needed to live was the man in front of him. His sun, his moon and his stars, his entire world would forever revolve around him whether he wanted it to or not. Luckily, Gus wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and if anyone knew that, it would be Basil Foxwood. Instead of pressing back for his lips, he leaned down to press a kiss against the side of his neck while his fingers made quick work of popping the buttons on his trousers open. Then he tucked his fingers, smooth and warm, under the hem, wrapping them around Basil before he waited for the inevitable reaction, although unable to suppress the groan that escaped from him.

He allowed another moment to pass before he rubbed his thumb over the tip. Then his hand began to shift up and down, rubbing against him as they did. Gus kept his eyes focused on Basil, watching his face contort to something into an emotion he was causing. Neediness, desperation, an insatiable desire, Gus wanted nothing more than to make Basil feel good.

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Basil Foxwood

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   Basil Foxwood

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Breath coming in short, shallow pants still, Basil waited to see what Lissington would do. He didn’t particularly want to lead this charge, guilt still swirling around in his mind for taking advantage of a situation that was - in retrospect - rather horrific. He knew better, maybe, than to give Gus the one thing he wanted and hope it made everything ok. It was like putting a single bandage on a hemorrhage and hoping the for the best. In reality, this was something they both wanted, something Basil had never even realized… maybe… he... well—

He jerked then as the sensation of warm fingers dipped under his trousers and sharp gasp escaped. Before Basil could do or say anything cognizant-ly, Gus groaned above him and his own hips jerked up of their own volition. The friction that met him was world bending and Basil about yelped when Gus began to move his thumb. He jerked upright so quickly he almost knocked heads with the pretty redhead. In an attempt to avoid such a calamity, he laid back and clunked his head with a disastrous thump into the ground. Basil saw stars, and not the kind this had been inching towards.

Grey eyes screwed shut as a less than turned-on groan escaped him. Well that was certainly one way to face reality. A hand came up to press against the soreness and Basil sat up on his free elbow. “That was both terribly mortifying and painful, all at once,” he muttered, red embarrassment painting across his cheeks with a flourish.

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Gus Lissington im not even sorry bahaha

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   Gus Lissington

Compartmentalizing things was one of his specialties, especially when it was something Gus didn’t want to deal with. The moment he’d been offered an out to push the thought of the upcoming funeral and all of the preparations he still had to do to the back of his mind, he’d taken it. Maybe he shouldn’t have, it wasn’t healthy to push things he didn’t want to think about into a spot in his mind he’d learned to ignore until it began to leak into his thoughts. His da would be in the front of his mind for weeks to come, and it was nice, even for a moment, to see that life would move on, and that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to lose Foxwood for good this time. Instead of living in the past as he’d wanted to do, he could look forward to a future where he didn’t spend his days alone. Wasn’t there some kind of saying that grief brought people together for the better?

His eyes focused on the man beneath him, and he fingers tightened around him as Basil’s entire body jerked, and then… thunked his head, hard against the ground. If that wasn’t an entire mood killer, the redhead wasn’t sure what was. Gus didn’t mean to laugh, but he did anyway despite his attempt to purse his lips together to continue the noise, as the last thing he expected from Basil Foxwood was that sort of reaction from just touching him. Withdrawing his hand, Gus rolled over to the side of him before bringing his hand up to brush through the soft brown locks.

“It looked like it hurt, but I think you’ll be okay.” Gus quietly replied, while thinking ’just like I might be.’ He hadn’t believed Basil earlier when he’d spoken of being here as long as the redhead would have him; they were often two ships sailing past each other in the sea, and when a storm brought them again it ended in ruin. Maybe this time they'd both be able to peacefully dock together. Part of him was still skeptical if this was all a ruse to make him forget about the tragedy of his life, but he too, pushed that thought away – Basil wouldn’t have let them get this far if he didn’t want it too. He knew the man well enough to realize that.

“I’ll kiss it and make it better, anyway.” He hummed quietly before he leaned to brush a kiss against his temple. Then he leaned back against his own hands and stretched his legs forward, his head tilting toward the other man before he offered him a gentle smile. It took him another moment to decide he should probably get off the floor, it was quite uncomfortable now that he thought about it, and Gus stretched the entire length of his body before he managed to stand up, turning to offer Basil his hand a moment later. (He founded he liked holding it.)

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Basil Foxwood

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Basil heard Gus’ laughter as the other rolled over off of him and the furious blush in his cheeks only brightened. Mortified didn’t even begin to cover it. He let Gus rub the back of his head for a moment as the redhead tried to reassure him. What a ridiculous set of circumstances had brought them to this moment. Basil couldn’t help but sigh, thinking through them at the speed of light, even as a slight contentment settled over him. Where this morning he’d barely been able to drag himself into the classroom, now he was… he didn’t know what he was, but better. Certainly.

He hoped Lissington too was doing a little better after a few sips of that draught and… well, this debacle. It was strange how quickly things could shift, but not even all the revelation and distraction in the world would keep the pain at bay for too long. Lissington leaned towards him, brushing a gentle kiss to Basil’s temple as he went, and the brunette gave a sheepish little smile. “Thanks,” he hummed, and he meant it.

Gus stood then and offered him a hand, which Basil accepted gladly. He felt stiff and uncomfortable, not to mention concussed after laying on the floor like a horny teenager. The blush in his cheeks only heated further as he brushed himself off and took in the general state of untidiness of his attire. It took quite a bit for Basil to reach this pinnacle of messy, but with his trousers open and white shirt untucked under his slightly creased waistcoat, well… they’d managed it.

The brunette made to tuck his shirt in and straighten himself out. A slight awkwardness settled over his shoulders then as he stood, embarrassed and sheepish, in front of Lissington. Basil wasn’t used to these sorts of interactions (evidently) and he wasn’t sure exactly what came next. He rolled his shoulders back, hoping to set his waistcoat in place, and then moved to retrieve the abandoned teacup that had floated by now along the perimeter of the room. Steam was still floating upwards and out of it. Basil made to hand it back to Lissing, and cleared his throat. “Here,” he offered. “Why don’t you finish this and stay awhile?”

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Gus Lissington

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Watching Basil made Gus laugh a little louder, although he managed to hide it by grinning and rolling off of him before helping him to his feet; he was cute when he was flushed red and disheveled from things that he’d done to him, and he merely tilted his head and watched him. There was something… endearing about being the one who made his face flushed (even if some of it had been from thumping his head against his ground) and the one who made him look so… raw. Exposed. It must bother him to look as he did, his hair amess, and his clothing wrinkled in a manner that made it obvious what he’d been up to –

Gus paused in what he was doing to watch Basil tidy himself up. He was a handsome man and Gus itched to trace his fingers against his abdomen, against his neck, anywhere against him, but that might make things awkward between them. They’d never really made it this far before; Gus cleared his throat as he curled his fingers against the edge of his pants, working to straighten himself out. He was still rather uncomfortable, given the circumstances, but hopefully soon it would work itself out. (Or well, he'd have to work it out, and getting from here to near the kitchens would prove rather... interesting without running into anyone.) He grinned to himself as he worked to button his own shirt back up before he glanced at the forsaken professor robes and shrugged, choosing to not put them back on; at least in here he felt comfortable enough to dress as he would as a curse breaker – black trousers and a white linen shirt. He never wore anything outside of it beneath his robes, and he'd rather chew his own arm off than to wear a stuffy suit.

A single suit he felt like he hadn’t worn in years hung in his closet, although he’d probably have to purchase another one to wear to mourn because he wasn’t sure it would even fit; it might be too tight, too short, too light in color, who knew. Gus would have to get Basil’s opinion on it because he wanted to do things properly when it came to this… event. His stomach tightened at the thought and he pushed it away because he was not going to think about that again, until he had to. (Not until Thursday when they were actually burying his dad, and after that he’d put this moment into a locked box and throw the key.)

Without much warning the tea was back in his hands, and Gus blinked at it before he glanced up at Basil. Then he nodded and took a few steps backward to sink back into the armchair, which, as expected, was much more comfortable than the floor. “I’d like that, thanks.” He cleared his throat before taking a sip of it, thankful that it was still warm enough that he could feel it pool into his belly. Then his fingers found the scarf dangling off one of the arms and he draped it around his neck before burying his nose on it. It seemed different, like quill and pumpkin.

Gus’ lips quipped into a grin as he took a glance over the bed where the man had retrieved the scarf as he imagined Basil lazing in bed, reading a book and eating a pumpkin pastry. Then frowning when he realized there were crumbs in the bed. His stomach rumbled at the thought of food and the redhead realized he may not have eaten at all today, but he ignored it in favor of bringing the cup up to his mouth because he wasn’t ready to leave Foxwood’s sanctuary just yet. Especially not when he’d been invited to stay. Gus unfolded himself from the chair, deciding to take a look at the room in detail – it was tidy and academic in comparison to his own disaster. (Basil would be shocked to find he’d unpacked this year instead of living out of a trunk.)

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Pleased that the other had agreed to stay and was sipping away at that tea, Basil let out a soft breath. He quite liked the idea of Lissington lingering just a touch longer. It stretched their moment and gave them a chance to… reset after what had just transpired. Basil didn’t know what would happen if he was left to his own devices for too long (well… he did, he supposed, but after that—) His blush only darkened.

“Excellent,” the professor quipped, twisting his trousers a little uncomfortably. That was going to have to be a problem for later. For now, he turned to his desk - a veritable mess he hadn’t looked at in days - and decided it was as good a time as any to chip away at the chaos there. “You don’t mind if I look over a few essays, do you?” He asked, gesturing at the tremendous pile that was about ready to tumble. “I was on my way up to try and sort through a few earlier,” he lied. Then, Lissing’s stomach grumbled and Basil gave him a quick glance.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, perhaps obviously. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have anything. I don’t… eat much, up here.” Basil scratched the back of his head awkwardly. More often than not, when he was up late or skipped meals he was in his office. He and Cecil had their little routine to share whatever it was that he did manage to gather from the kitchens those nights. Though, in retrospect, Basil wasn’t sure when the last time was he even saw his little hedgehog friend? Ever since Diana had transformed back from a cat, in fact. He’d have to keep a closer eye out. Maybe leave little Cecil some cheese or the like.

Deciding Lissington could make himself at home as he willed, Basil began to move papers around on his desk. He selected a grouping of N.E.W.T essays that were from mid-October and decided to tackle those first. They were long overdue, anyhow. He scooped them up in his arms and grabbed a large tomb to press upon as he made his way towards the bed. (It seemed rude to hunker down, back turned to his guest from the desk, and his body was still a little achy from the floor.) Making himself comfortable, Basil set his shoes neatly aside and summoned the quill he’d clearly forgotten. Settled at last, he turned to appraise Lissington again.

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Gus Lissington

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Gus almost chuckled at the obvious distress they were both in, yet neither seemed willing to speak of the matter; the moment was over, at least for now, and he wasn’t about to dredge up the awkwardness just to be asked to leave. A little uncomfortableness in his trousers was worth spending time with him, so instead he glanced over at Basil and nodded. “Yeah, no. By all means. I’m glad though, that you came up when you did.” His eyes softened at the sentiment because he wasn’t sure where he’d be if Foxwood hadn’t meandered up when he had – maybe in his room, staring at the ceiling. Maybe in their spot with his feet dangling over the edge of the cliff as he contemplated telling Basil he could summon a broom faster than he could fall. (Or the alternative of finding his body on the sharp rocks below because he couldn't.) Or maybe he would have remained where he was until someone came to retrieve him – there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that he would have frightened one of the first years trying to get to their common room.

A soft blush warmed his cheeks and Gus rested a hand against his stomach. He shook his head. “I don’t think I could stomach anything.” Even if he was hungry, the thought of eating made him nauseous enough that he’d probably just poke at whatever was in front of him. On his way down he’d poke his head into the kitchen to see if there was anything leftover from dinner (there always was, because Gus had been doing the exact thing since he was a wee first year, always wanting a snack or a second dessert before bed). The house elves were never surprised to see his head poke through the door sporting a wide grin; he enjoyed when he was lucky enough to catch them putting away the dessert because he was happy to take those off their hands. Even the thought of consuming something sweet right now made his stomach tighten, and he sighed and shook his head again.

Blue eyes watched curiously as Foxwood collected the essays from his desk, and he made a small noise at the sight of the leaning tower, threatening to spill over – his own stack wasn’t much better, but at least manageable compared to that monstrosity. Gus tracked his movements from the desk to the bed, and he eyed him curiously; grading in his bed seemed like the least Basil thing he could have done, but Gus wasn’t one to question his methods. He had his weird quirks while trying to power through grading, too.

He caught a look in the man’s eyes as he appraised him, one that seemed questioning and welcoming rolled into one and set the teacup down on the nearest surface. He abandoned his desire to look around the room and crossed the small space between them, toeing his own shoes off before peeling off the weathered scarf from his neck. He threw it down onto the bed. Offering Basil a lopsided grin before he jumped into the bed with him, a soft groan escaped him as he hit the mattress. His body thanked him for the clouds he was lying on. “Your bed is comfortable.” Gus murmured and turned to press his back and butt against him for… obvious reasons. Gus did awkwardly move to loop his ankle around Basil’s, although the angle made it uncomfortable so he moved his leg back to the original position and pressed against him further.

“Do you always grade here?” Gus hummed as he fluffed the scarf up a little bit before laying his head down on it. “I do from my bed.”

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Basil Foxwood

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Are you student? Learn how to earn house points!

As the novelty of the spinning room and everything that had just transpired began to settle, Basil felt some of his earlier empty sadness begin to creep back. The truth was now defined, and underlined: he… cared for Gus Lissington in a way that was definitely not normal. Or done. The thought rattled something in his brain that, though dusty, was not… new. He couldn’t help it. He felt safe in this thought, even though the very opposite should have been true. There simply was no other way for him to feel that made sense anymore?

As he watched the pretty redhead meander about, Basil felt a fond little smile steal across his face. It was lazy almost, this moment very domestic in its essence. He found it was more comfortable than he could ever have imagined. With Gus here he was… content. With Gus here, everything seemed like it might all work out? He didn’t want to think beyond this moment however. His family? His future? Both question marks he was unable to face until, at the very least, the funeral was passed. It wouldn’t be fair to Lissington… to Gus.

The other abandoned his mostly finished teacup then and caught Basil’s eye. The brunette felt something swell and he almost reached out for the other, willing in that moment to just hold him. Instead, he dropped his gaze nervously. Gus, for his part, made himself comfortable in the bed and Basil had to grip his things so nothing would get jostled in the redhead’s energetic curling up on the mattress. Basil frowned for a moment, tucking his essays closer, and then gave a fond eye-roll as Gus commented on his bed. He straightened then from the protective, hunched over position over the essays as the other settled, facing away from him. Oh good, maybe Gus would finally get some rest.

“No,” Basil replied quietly, smoothing the top essay that had gotten a touch wrinkled in the process. “I generally do all my work in the office attached to my classroom.” He gave the quill a small flick, readjusting it in his grip. He didn’t want to add anything else for fear of tipping Lissington off to the fact that he’d only recently started grading up here. Hiding, really. There was no reason to rehash the past, not right now at least. The idea that Lissington graded from his bed was not surprising though and Basil tossed him a fond smile as the redhead settled his head on his scarf.

It was odd seeing such a familiar sight with one very novel attribute. How many evenings now had he curled up in this very spot, determined to grade, with that scarf taunting him right there where Lissington was now curled atop it? How many nights had he sighed miserably, abandoning the same pile of essays, only to turn over and stare at the scarf? He’d never made an active movement to touch it while he slept. In fact, other than the fact that he’d thrown it upon the bed that first night, Basil wasn’t sure he had touched it since. But it was familiar anyhow. That much was certain.

Setting his quill down and holding it in place with his left thumb, Basil moved to brush a red fringe out of Lissington’s face with his right hand. The other’s skin was warm to the touch and he rubbed his thumb gently against Gus’ cheek. “You should sleep,” he offered. “I’ll wake you before I go down for supper.” 

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Gus Lissington

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   Gus Lissington

A subtle frown tugged at the edge of Gus’ lips; he would be the one to spend more time in his office than his private quarters, but it begged the question why he had all the essays here. Maybe he just needed a change of scenery – that was something he understood well. It wasn’t a need for change (sure when he ran, he uprooted his entire life to do so), but more a place to think without the disruptions and reminders of normal life. That's what normal people did when they needed to stop and think. Gus felt like he had to be in professor mode when he was in the classroom and his office, but in his private quarters he could wallow in self doubt and pity if this was the career choice for him. (It wasn't, but hey, he was still coming to terms with that.) He closed his eyes and let out a sigh; that wasn’t a thread he felt like pulling at the moment.

Instead Gus hummed quietly in response. “I don’t like my office. Or my classroom” it said, although he wasn’t sure Basil would get that from it. He buried his face further into the scarf and let out a sigh of contentment, happy to finally have it back – it’d been with him for so many years that it had been difficult to sleep without it. (Or rather, it had been difficult to sleep while knowing that Basil Foxwood wasn’t in his life anymore and he’d have to live with the broken pieces of himself for the reminder of his life, but it was much easier to explain to himself that he missed his security blanket.)

Here, curled next to Basil in his bed, Gus felt safe. The events that had led him here were in the back of his mind, but even if he mulled over them and let them take over, the other would be there to pull him back from the edge. He didn’t have to hide parts of himself or fake a smile simply because people expected it from him – Gus could be fully himself without judgment with Basil. His chest warmed at the thought but he couldn’t find the right words to voice it. His life had shifted into place, a puzzle piece finding its match, even if the entire puzzle wouldn’t ever be complete again; it was as close to perfect as it could get, and for now, Gus was okay with that.

He felt a hand touching his cheek and he leaned his head against his hand. Basil’s fingers were cold just as they always were, but they felt good against his skin. His own hand came up to rest atop Basil's. “Okay.” He agreed quietly, a small, subtle pang of happiness fluttering in his stomach from not being asked to vacate the bed so he could grade in peace. Food wasn’t appealing to him (at least right now), but even in the future he wasn’t sure he could stomach anything, but he’d try.

Gus stretched his legs out, prodding his toes against Basil before he pulled his hands back to touch under the scarf before he dropped his head against it and closed his eyes; he felt the emotional and physical drain today had had on him all at once and darkness was already tugging him into its grasp. So he fell into its welcoming embrace.

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Basil Foxwood

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Are you student? Learn how to earn house points!

As Gus cradled into Basil’s hand with his cheek, something in the brunette’s stomach tugged. This was a moment he was loath to leave behind. Even as the pretty redhead settled in for a rest and blue eyes closed, Basil still gazed at him fondly. He couldn’t let the emotions tugging at his peripherals cloud this sentiment, this swelling he felt in his chest of happiness and contentment. The undercurrent of guilt and pain was still there, he knew this little safe bubble would pop eventually, but until then Basil was resigned to hold onto it as long as possible.

When he was satisfied the redhead was asleep, Basil pulled his hand back and refocused on the task in front of him. He adjusted the essays and the floating inkwell and set to work on grading the N.E.W.T essays that were now long overdue. He got more done in the next few hours than he had in months.

As time passed and supper came to beckon, Basil finally finished the last of his grading. It had been a productive few hours and at last he felt he was doing right by his students again. He’d scribbled more notes in margins this time than he had all year, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that they were all doing rather well. It was with a pang that he searched for Ms. Chang’s paper in each hoard, always expecting her name to come up until he remembered that she was graduated. He would find a new standout this year, eventually.

Basil stretched quietly and made to stand. He tucked the essays and things away on his desk before moving back towards the bed where Lissington still slept. He tugged on his shoes and then sat on the edge of the bed, taking in the serenity with which the redhead lay. If only he could be like this all the time, Basil thought to himself. Alas, there was still much hardship in the weeks ahead. He brushed his hand over Gus’ brow again, pushing curly red locks aside. They were soft to the touch, as they’d always been.

“Gus,” he hummed quietly. “It’s time to go down for supper.”

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Gus Lissington

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He doesn’t dream of anything. He was just surrounded by a still darkness that wrapped itself around him until it filled his vision, his lungs and his entire being until he wasn’t sure where he ended and it started. He would have given his entire being to it, given the darkness every last inch of his life if that’s what it wanted, if he hadn’t heard a tiny voice telling him it’s time to wake up.

It took him a moment to claw to the surface of the living, and had Gus not seen Basil’s face hovering above him as he blinked, he would have made a move to grab his wand and point it at him. Again. He had never been good at waking up, and it had only gotten worse out in the field when things and people prowled around him. His mind instantly went to flight or fight - danger, and well... sometimes it bit him. His eyes closed as he steadied his breathing by focusing on the cool hand against his forehead, brushing back the soft curls from his face.

“I don’t suppose I could tempt you to come to bed with me?” He heard himself ask as he propped himself into a sitting position. Then he rubbed his eyes and yawned. After a moment Gus reached up to gently take his hand into his own before he brought it against his lips to press a chaste kiss against his palm. Maybe, just maybe he could entice Basil Foxwood to skip supper (his own stomach was in knots and food was going to be out of the question for him) in favor of laying down with him. He squeezed his hand before allowing his own to drop into his lap.

Gus heaved a sigh before he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and instantly dropped his head into his hands. Getting up sounded terrible, and walking back out the door meant he was going to have to face a reality that he wasn’t prepared for. It took another moment before he stood to tug on the forsaken professor robes followed by his shoes. Moving toward the door, Gus offered Basil a tiny smile; he wasn’t going to eat, but he could at least pick at something to make it seem like he was trying.

“Thank you for letting me.” Gus turned toward him with a gentle smile; part of him hoped he’d take him up on his offer to just go back to bed and try again in the morning. He could sneak out.

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Basil Foxwood

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Are you student? Learn how to earn house points!

Basil was slightly surprised at the alarm with which Gus woke. He pulled away just so, hoping not to unsettle the redhead. Perhaps he’d had a nightmare? There was every reason in the world for it. Basil was sure when he finally closed his own eyes it would be a fitful evening. There was so much to process and he wasn’t even the one who was dealing with familial crisis! Basil’s fingers brushed gently against Gus’ arm at the thought. It was the words that trickled from the other’s mouth however that sent something in the brunette’s stomach aflutter. He blushed brilliantly, despite the small, lopsided smile that graced his features.

There was a split second in which Basil considered answering the question which seemed somewhat rhetorical. He watched with keen grey eyes as Lissington kissed his palm and debated if… well… No. He wasn’t— they weren’t— it was still murky. Something had been shared today, something new and revelatory to Basil but he wasn’t sure what any of it meant yet. To him, to Gus, to them? He didn’t want to upset the balance until after the funeral either. Gus needed a respite, an escape from his hardships; if that’s what Basil needed to be for him, then he had every intention of being just that.

Running a hand over Lissington’s back as he doubled over, Basil felt something punch in his gut. He hated seeing the usually so jovial redhead like this. It was with some restraint that he let the other stand and re-dress, even as Basil himself remained seated. He itched to hold Gus close again, wrapping his fingers in the other’s shirt. It wasn’t until Gus actually moved towards the door that Basil stood with a small frown. He was certainly in a rush to get out, wasn’t he? The brunette thought anxiously. Perhaps he’d overstepped after all?

“Of course,” Basil replied gently in response to the other’s thanks. There was no version of their fractured, broken relationship that could ever stop him from being there when Gus needed him. Not now, not ever. But Basil wasn’t about to share that and make things worse. Instead, he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “You’ll let me know if you need anything else, won’t you?” His voice was a teensy bit pleading despite Basil’s best efforts.

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Gus Lissington

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