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Dressed in White Noise

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There's one.

And another.

And three more.

The Puddlemere jerseys themselves aren't surprising, but seeing so many—so many—emblazoned with 'Potter 09' rather is. Probably shouldn't be. James is one of the best players in the league. He's among the top ten best Seekers to play in the last fifty years. Teddy knows this. He knew it going in. It's just something different to see the jumping, screaming bodies and to hear his boyfriend's name torn from their throats as James zooms past the stands.

And Merlin, can he fly. He's been brilliant today, racing the Kestrals' Seeker all over the pitch and into the sky, between the goal posts, almost skimming the grass after a dive. Teddy schools his breathing but his hands are still balled into fists after a particularly dangerous-looking barrel turn that comes within inches of the bleachers on the other side of the pitch.

"Fucking hell, James," Teddy mutters to himself, loosening his fists, even as a witch in James's jersey—three times too big for her—nearly faints at the sight. He'd roll his eyes at her dramatics, but truth be told, Teddy feels like he loses years off his life every time James takes a feint. He can hardly blame her.

Can hardly blame any of them. James is a bloody force.

He catches the Snitch two hours in, snatching it from just over the other Seeker's right shoulder in a cheeky move that has the Puddlemere fans chanting his name as he coasts back to earth, auburn hair windswept. He’s wearing that crooked smile on his face that always makes Teddy want to press him to the nearest wall and snog the fuck out of him.

"Teddy? You coming with?"


It's Lily, jerking her head toward the exit with an amused smile. "I mean, we could just sit here all night, but…"

"No, I'm coming. Thought I'd let the crowd thin out first is all." He stands, brushing off his jeans and running a hand through his hair (dark blue, for team spirit), adding a few turquoise strands back in with the pass of his fingers, magic coursing through the tips. "You and Al lead the way."

Predictably, Harry and Draco, plus Ginny and Blaise, are already down on the pitch, taking turns hugging James. Well, Draco's not a hugger; he stands back and waits to shake James's hand instead. It takes a force-field… a literal fucking force-field, cast by none other than Harry… to keep James's raving fans at bay while his family congratulates him.

Teddy hangs back too, his hands thrust into his pockets. He rather likes watching the adulation James receives after a win. Hell, it hardly slackens after a loss either. James gives his parents one last hug each. Harry's searching gaze finds Teddy on the outskirts of the crowd, and he gives a wave. Teddy grins and returns it before Harry and Draco turn on the spot and Disapparate. Blaise, Ginny, and Lily aren't far behind. Albus wanders over though and invites Teddy for a fry-up at his and Scorpius's flat.

Teddy toes the ground and lifts a shoulder in a shrug. The noise of the crowd hums and buzzes, rising in pitch with the sudden intrusion of James's laugh, genuine and boisterous. Teddy watches him, mid-autograph, nodding at a little girl and then playfully tugging on one of her braids as he hands back the signed picture of himself. He poses for a photo with two teenage boys who look as though if they smile any harder their faces will crack. Teddy stifles his own smile, shaking his head.

The sound of the fans' hushed frenzy drones on as he turns back to Albus. "Thought I'd see if I could buy your brother a pint."

"Sure," says Al. "Another time then?"

"Another time," Teddy promises.

When Albus is gone, Teddy leans against the bleachers and watches James amongst the throng. The circle around him is four deep with people waiting for his signature on their Puddlemere banners, their shirts, their skin in some cases.

Two young women, late to the crowd, pass Teddy on their way over, and he hears one murmur, "What I wouldn't give to be that broom."

"Yeah, James Potter can ride me hard for two hours any time."

"I bet he looks just as hot giving someone a shag as catching the Snitch."

The rest fades as they move out of Teddy's earshot, not that he can't easily fill in the rest. He's probably heard it all by now. Doesn't mean he can stop the twitch of his jaw when they so readily objectify James… when they speculate what it would be like to be bedded by him. Not that he can blame them for that, either. But a small part of him still smarts at it. Unreasonably, of course. James is his. They've been dating for three months and fucking that entire time too. That's the thing with suddenly becoming romantically involved with someone you've known since you were six; it escalates quickly once it's acknowledged.

And they've been "acknowledging it" thoroughly every chance they get.

It's pretty perfect. That is, except for it being a secret and all that. And that's probably why the bawdy rhetoric of James's fans irks Teddy at all: Because they don't know they can't have him. And they don't know why.

James signs someone's Kestrals hat—a Kestrals hat, for Merlin's sake—and then glances up, doing a double-take as he sees Teddy standing there. A slow smile spreads over his lips, his eyes alight. He hands back the man's quill. "Thanks but I've…" He sneaks a look back at Teddy, holding his gaze. "I've got to go."

Then James pushes gently through the remaining people who are still reluctant to disperse. Teddy touches his wand in its holster at his hip and casts a charm to part the crowd more easily. Fans shuffle away, giving James a narrow path.

Teddy meanders over on James's trek to the locker rooms. "Nice catch."

"D'you think so?" James shrugs. "I thought I could have had it after our third goal, but then Omar sidelined me with that Beater bat swing and..." He mimes nearly being chucked off his broom, complete with explosive sound effects.

Teddy smiles and tamps down the desire to grab him up and attack his sweaty skin with biting kisses.

"Care for a drink?" he asks. "Dinner?"

James scratches the back of his neck. "Well, actually, the team sort of agreed to go to the pub to celebrate together." He glances at Teddy, checking in with those wide eyes he gets. He bites his lip, a habit he's had since his Hogwarts days, and Teddy remembers late nights when he'd come into the kitchen to find a fifth-year James, hair a wild mess, biting his lip over stacks of Herbology parchments, his textbook open and smudged with dirt from his fingers, a drooping Asphodel beside him on the table. Back then it was just hair ruffles and, 'Hey, kid, how can I help?'

But then steadily, a bit at a time, it had become something else… Teddy's hand lingering in James's hair, stroking softly down the back of his neck. Rubbing James's tense shoulders sixth year, Teddy had had to fight not to get a hard-on… not to let his hands explore further across the slant of James's collar bones, into the dip of his lower back… elsewhere.

It got bad enough Teddy finally moved out on his own. Things cooled down. Some. Not entirely. Not ever entirely. And once James left Hogwarts and started coming over to Teddy's flat, started hanging out there, leaning against Teddy on the sofa, crashing there… Teddy almost can't believe he held off as long as he did. And it was James who jumped him in the end, slipping a hand between Teddy's legs while they watched the telly late one night… their gazes meeting, a question plaguing Teddy's, and an answer burning in James's. One kiss, and Teddy's been lost ever since. Lost and giddy and knocked sideways by how stupidly fond of James he is, how spectacularly hot the sex is… how beautiful James is when he smiles at Teddy and Teddy sees that it's okay and has been, in James's eyes, for a long, long time.

"Alright," Teddy says now. "I can just see you later. Tomorrow even."

James glances around. The fans have mostly vacated, and the few who are left are no longer paying attention. He lets the backs of his fingers brush Teddy's hand. "I was actually thinking you might want to… come?"

At Teddy's arched brow, James nudges him on a snort.

"Come along, I meant."

"Yeah?" They don't usually do that… risk the team finding out. If others of James's family were to come along too that would be different. Because that's how they all see Teddy: as James's family.

But James gives him a hopeful smile. "Yeah. I'd like it if you'd come." And then it's his turn to lift a saucy brow at the innueondo.

Teddy chuckles. He keeps his hands burrowed into his pockets to keep from touching his boyfriend. Merlin, he wants to touch him. "Sure, okay."

"Cool," says James, his smile increasing even still in wattage.

"Are you going to have a shower and leave me out here to suffer then?"

"I think I'll just hit myself with a strong Scourgify and save the actual showering for later… with you."

They trade filthy looks, and then James disappears into the locker room to change.

Teddy sighs, wandering slowly around the empty pitch while he waits, tilting his chin up to watch the periwinkle sky slowly burnish itself orange and pink. Indigo has barely begun to deepen directly above when James bursts out of the doors again, now in a white t-shirt with his favourite band, Mad Owl emblazoned across it in red, and slippery blue jeans that drag on his hip bones.

"Fucking Merlin," Teddy sighs.

James, the cheeky ponce, knows exactly the effect he has on Teddy and sends him a flirty smile and a wink. He jogs the few metres separating them. "Let's go get a pint then."


The team is predictably rowdy, and Teddy feels rather sedate by comparison. He sits next to James at the bar, close, and it doesn't escape him how many times—in laughing at someone's joke or in his excitement to recount a teammate's move in the match—James either butts up against Teddy, leans back into him, or subversively scoots closer. No one seems to notice or mind. Except Teddy's cock. His cock has definitely noticed. Teddy's had a lazy boner since the second of his four pints. When James moves close enough that he's wedged between Teddy's open thighs and practically sharing Teddy's barstool, and Teddy can easily crane his gaze over James's shoulder, he thinks James might be in a similar predicament, if the bulge in his jeans is any indication. It was probably quite wise and required an impressive degree of forethought that James chose the loosest jeans ever to wear tonight in the first place.

Loose enough that Teddy thinks if he gave a strong enough tug...

"And when you took that shot and it hit the inside of the hoop—!" Patricia Longbottom is shouting, standing from her own seat and gesturing dangerously with a shot of tequila. "Oh man, I thought it wasn't going in, Wade! I thought Potter'd have to stall with the Snitch for sure!"

"And then it teetered, and Cline just sat there watching it like..." James laughs and mimics the Kestrals' stunned Keeper, and Teddy can't help snickering behind him. "Oh my God, I cannot believe how long it just hung there."

"It looked bloody Stupefied," says Longbottom.

He doesn't mean to—the fourth pint is likely one too many for Teddy to be making excellent decisions—but his hand slides of its own accord onto James's hip and tenderly hauls him back against his body even closer.

For a moment, Teddy feels James's breath stall out. And in that same moment, it looks like maybe Wade doesn't know where to put his eyes, and Longbottom makes a show of downing her shot and ordering another.

But then James turns his head and peers at Teddy over his shoulder. He doesn't say anything, and neither does Teddy. But James takes Teddy's hand and moves it around even further, so that Teddy holds him in a loose embrace.

Just like that.

And then Wade, swig of beer still filling his mouth, exclaims, "Mm!" snapping his fingers. He swallows and then is off and running with another story about the Kestrals' Keeper from a game last season. James leans back into Teddy's body. He laughs in all the right places of the story, even as Teddy's fingers find the hem of his shirt and subtly slip beneath it and onto his warm skin. Teddy sips his pint. They stay like that, and no one says a word. He feels simultaneously like they're either under a Disillusionment charm—or they have a spotlight trained on them. It's glorious and sort of sickening. And Teddy wishes he knew what it meant… if James was going to regret it later.

Teddy doesn't have time to worry about it too much, or rather he's given an entirely new reason to worry, when a group of Puddlemere fans—some of the very people fawning over James after the match—blows into the pub on a cheery gush of laughter and talk.

Teddy tenses against James's back and starts to withdraw. But then James's hot palm covers his knuckles, and he turns to murmur close to Teddy's ear. "Not tonight."

Teddy hisses beneath his breath, "What do you mean 'not tonight'? Are you going to Obliviate everyone after?"

James smiles, a soft chuckle of breath whispering over Teddy's neck. "No, you daft plonker."

They look at one another, and they're close enough to kiss. James's gaze dips hot and drowsy to Teddy's lips, and Teddy knows he wants it.

"You're sure?"

James blinks at him, something in his eyes shifting. "I've never been more than."

Once Teddy's finished his pint, and Longbottom's begun a new tale that has the others rapt, James whispers against the shell of Teddy's ear. "I love this song. You want to dance?"

"You think that's wise?" Teddy asks, though his body responds to the suggestion in James's voice. His fingers fiddle with a ragged belt loop on James's jeans.

In answer, James moves away, taking Teddy's hand as he does, and he leads Teddy out onto the middle of the floor where several other people are already swaying to the beat. Teddy glances back to the bar to see Longbottom give him a smile. Wade is too engrossed suddenly in the Quidditch replays on the telly to give two shits. James's fans are, however, devouring their every move, whispering between themselves.

James stops and turns Teddy's attention back to him with a gentle knuckle on Teddy's jaw.

"Let them see," he says. And then, as he moves into Teddy's arms, "Let them all see."

Teddy rests his hands low on James's back and moves with him to the mesmerising music, the bass driving through his legs, bouncing off his nerve-endings. James curls a hand into Teddy's hair, the other spanning his bicep, and he looks into Teddy's eyes, hips swivelling seductively.

"James," Teddy warns. "There's no reversing this. They're all going to know—"

"—that I'm letting my oft-called step-brother shag me?"

Teddy gives him an arch look. "Letting?" With every soft bump of their hips, he's starting to care less and less who knows what.

James wraps his arms around Teddy's neck and whispers, "Begging him to… actually."

Teddy lowers his voice. "Are you begging right now?"

James's eyes flare with desire. He mooooves against Teddy's body. "Getting close."

Teddy pushes his thigh against James's stiffening cock, making James's breath catch, "Te-eddy…"

They only last until the end of the song. Then Teddy Apparates them to his flat on the spot.


Thank Merlin for James's loose jeans, Teddy thinks, as he rips them down to his thighs in one go without even having to unfasten them (his fantasies all night having proven delightfully realistic). He goes to his knees in the living room, mouthing James's hard cock through the soft cotton of his underwear before dragging those down too. He glances up at James's enraptured face and then envelopes his dick in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and groaning at the taste, bitter as freshly cut grass, heady as the upside-down sky.

James, always a slut for Teddy's mouth, starts humping his face almost immediately, high little grunts coming from his licked lips, his brows knitted in some merging of ecstasy and longing.

Teddy grasps his adorable bare arse in both hands, squeezing hard.

Fuck, I love you, he sends in a weak form of Legilimency. This is the only way he's said it so far. It seems fucked up not to say it for real. He's said it James's whole life. It just… it's different now. It's meant something different for a long time. It feels dangerous, somehow, to voice that.

But James's breath catches, and when he looks down at Teddy, his eyes swim with emotion.

"Want to… ride you," James gets out.

Teddy sucks off his cock, long and slow, taking in all the way down his throat again once—and then a second time—before he leaves off entirely. He gets to the couch, pushing his own jeans down while James yanks his jeans and pants the rest of the way off, kicking them away. James straddles him, taking Teddy's shirt and pulling it over his head. He runs his hands over Teddy's chest, mapping sinew and tattoos alike.

"Mmm," he hums an exhale as he settles and unhurriedly grinds their erections together.

Teddy whisks James's shirt off and leans in, biting down his throat, cupping his hand at the base of James's skull. "I fucking burn for you," he whispers.

James moves until Teddy's dick touches his cleft, rubbing over his clenched hole.

"Do the thing," James says, and Teddy wandlessly casts a lubrication charm, slicking them both.

James leans in and murmurs at Teddy's ear. "You want me to sit on it?"

Teddy growls. "Fuck yes, Jamie."

"You want to be all the way inside me?"

Teddy finds James's teasing gaze, his pupils overtaking the irises now.

"You want to come in me?" James whispers.

Teddy takes him by the hips, his hands tightening. James smiles and then slips the head of Teddy's cock inside himself. He gasps a small laugh and then works his hips, taking a little more, and a little more, rocking and staring into Teddy's eyes until he sits all the way down, moaning softly and shutting his eyes. His own prick lies against Teddy's body, a slow stream of pre-come smearing his stomach.

They begin to thrust into each other.

Usually they fuck quickly, hips working and breath huffing, striving to come. Tonight is different, and James doesn't seem in any kind of rush. He rolls his body against Teddy's, taking Teddy's cock into the hot squeeze of his arse and then barely moving with Teddy sheathed all the way inside him.

"Fuck, you're tight as hell," Teddy breathes. "Jamie, look at me."

James opens drugged eyes and blinks at him, arching his back only slightly and then relaxing, moving only that much in Teddy's lap.

I love you, Teddy thinks, staring into James's eyes. I'm in love with you.

James exhales against his face, arms wrapping securely around Teddy's neck. "Do you think I didn't know that?"

Breathlessly, Teddy searches his eyes, finding tenderness and heat, an exhilarating reciprocation.

"Do you think I haven't been in love with you my whole life, Teddy?"

James rises up more, sinking back down onto Teddy's cock with a Seeker's grace and finesse. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

Teddy can't find the words. He can only push his hand into the wreck of James's hair and thrust his hips up minutely to meet James's down-stroke.

"Fuck yes," James sighs. "Fuck me, Teddy."

Teddy wraps his hand around James's body and abruptly topples James onto his back on the sofa, landing on top of him, cock still throbbing inside.

James's eyes register delighted surprise—and then he's fairly clawing at Teddy's back to get him to go harder, which Teddy does. He pounds into James's body, gritting his teeth and whipping his hips. His hands grip the sofa cushions, and James wraps his legs around him.

"Want you to come," James whispers. "Wanna feel you come."

Teddy throws his head back with a growl, and his cock spurts ribbons of it inside James, hot and slippery, the sensation rocketing through his limbs, his belly, what's left of his brain. He finishes with James's hands running through his hair.

"Pink." James smiles.

Teddy rears up, takes James's hot cock in his hand, and thrusts his own cock as fast and dirty as his fist flies. "Come on." He jacks James off in a blur of slapping and grits it out, "Come on."

James's head flings back into the cushions and he shouts as his orgasm erupts over Teddy's knuckles, as his come flies up and lands in glistening stripes over his fit chest, up his swallowing throat. Teddy just stares at James writhing there, struck with a bewildered sort of awe. Then he collapses on him, angling their mouths for a deep kiss. His dick slips out of James's body, and he drops his head into the crook of his neck while they catch their breath.

"You're heavy for a lanky bloke," James says, but when Teddy tries to shift his weight, James stops him. "No, I like it. I like you on top of me. I used to fantasise about exactly that. Exactly this, Teddy."

Teddy processes this information, knowing he can hardly process it at all… that it'll take weeks probably. That James wants him, loves him… is ready to claim him. To claim them.

"I am bloody well starving, though," James muses.

Teddy lifts up onto his elbows, gazing down at James's stained cheeks, his impossible hair. "Me too," he says, even as so much more passes between them. "Me too, Jamie."

The smile that James unleashes on him is blinding.