Kitayama might be taking a picture of this (mousapelli) wrote,
Kitayama might be taking a picture of this
mousapelli

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"No, really, Moony, see, I'M built like a Truck..."

So this scene is clearly going to be heavily edited in the story in which it currently appears, but i HAD to post it just once in its entirety.

Much love to kenn, who actually said this to me once.


In the cold shower that Remus’ first electric guitar lesson necessitated, Remus was finally forced to admit that at some point he had fallen hard and fast for his best friend.

He had no idea whether it was the guitar or the eyeliner or just Sirius, or the inescapable combination of all three, but whatever it was, Remus’ response to the ‘hands-on’ teaching method Sirius was employing had produced an unavoidable reaction.

“But I like GIRLS,” Remus whined to his erection. It seemed to shake its head, and Remus blinked water out of his eyes.

The truth was that Remus never really HAD liked a girl, at least not any one in particular more than the others. They were sweet and pretty and they smelled nice and all…

…but none of them had ever ‘made the wand shoot sparks’, as James so eloquently put it.

“Where the hell have you been all this time?” Remus grumbled to the offending member. “You can’t just show up unannounced and tell me I like blokes! Go back to wherever it is you came from until you like girls!”

“Having a chat with the man downstairs?” a random Fifth Year Remus barely knew asked, poking his head into Remus’ shower stall. Remus gave a yip of surprise and jumped, face burning.

“Nothing to worry about, mate,” the boy grinned. “Nothing wrong with liking wizards rather than witches.”

“What do you know about it,” Remus snarled, turning his back and hoping the bastard would take the hint.

“Well, witches are built like art, aren’t they?” the boy said. “And what do you do with art? You look at it!”

“I suppose,” Remus grunted.

“And wizards are built like trucks,” the boy continued as though this were the most reasonable thing he could possibly say. “And what do you do with trucks?”

“No idea,” Remus sighed, resigning himself to hearing the end of this philosophy.

“Why,” the boy said with a grin, “you RIDE them, of course!”

Remus nearly broke his neck on the wet tile in his haste to exit the bathroom.
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