writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia

And this was yesterday's so I'm backdating!

The purr of the engine made the body of the motorcycle vibrate between Ezra's legs and he was grateful for the stoplight that meant he had to pause for a minute. Behind him, holding on tight, was Avery, his bleached blond hair covered by Ezra's helmet. His arms were wrapped tight around Ezra's waist and his legs were pressed so close against Ezra's that it was a little difficult to tell where one of them stopped and the other started.

The first time Ezra offered Avery a ride home after their joint yoga class was the beginning of the end, he realized. Ezra knew it was a supremely bad idea then, and he went with it anyway. It was bad enough he had to stop himself from fixating on Avery's pink and perfect mouth, or actually liking his ice princess persona. It was bad enough he was Avery's professor and that the thoughts he had about what he wanted that mouth to do was crossing so many lines Ezra was certain even thinking about it too hard might just get him fired.

So of course, Ezra invited the pretty young freshman onto his motorcycle.

The way the bike made his body hum was only doubled now that Avery rode behind him, pressed so tight Ezras could feel the warmth radiating off of him. He took the long route back to campus, wishing Avery wasn't his student so he could take him back to his place and just...

Ezra's swear was lost on the wind and he gripped the handles of the bike tighter. Only a few more weeks, he told himself. Then Avery wouldn't be his student anymore. It was only a technicality but one Ezra intended to fully explore.

Just like his plans for Avery.

Ezra's smile turned toothy and slightly savage. He had plenty of reasons now to make certain Avery passed his course. The thought of every little thing he was going to do to Avery, starting with that mouth, was only the more driving of forces.

Another short one, more smutty than yesterday's, but I think it's safe.

He liked being crowded. Aksel was learning as many things about Han as he could, and as fast as he could, and one thing he picked up on was the fact that Han liked when Aksel crowded him. It was a little surprising at first. Han's tough gangbanger persona was similar enough to Aksel's - which was why they got along so well to start with - and Aksel would throw punches at anyone who cornered him like that.

But when he moved in close to Han, Aksel's six-foot-two-inch frame making him tower over Han's five foot seven, Aksel noticed how Han's breath hitched. How his ears reddened. How his hands moved around like he still wasn't sure where to put them.

When Aksel cornered Han coming out of the shower, both hands on either side of the wall, one leg between Han's, he noticed how Han's hands didn't hesitate long before finding their way up Aksel's back, blunt nails digging into his shoulders.

When Han lay face down on his bed and Aksel covered his body with his own, biting softly, then not so softly into his neck, Aksel noticed how Han's hips pushed up and back, meeting Aksel thrust for thrust.

But one thing Aksel didn't notice, was how Han noticed everything right back and filed it away until he could turn the tables.

This is the first of 13 Days of Xmas fics I'm writing for yabamena. This one was yesterday's! (They will run from Dec 24th to Jan 6th). It's another Dean/Seamus from Harry Potter ficlet.

Christmas in the Finnigan-Thomas household meant several things: Dean was cooking, his dark brown artistic hands creating a masterpiece on a plate instead of on a canvas. It also meant Seamus was singing loudly and off-key as he finished hanging ornaments, one too many whiskeys under his belt. "'S bollocks," he replied loudly, when Dean mildly mentioned that fact, and Dean laughed because Seamus wasn't arguing that he'd been drinking quite a bit; he was arguing the fact that there was any such thing as one too many.

Tomorrow they'd be at the Thomas's first, Dean wincing at the teasing his sisters dished out, and Seamus telling jokes that made Dean's stepfather laugh until he choked, slapping Seamus on the back as he did. Then later at Seamus's mum's place for another large meal, a lot of alcohol and Dean wondering which Finnigan could out drink the other.

But they say Christmas Eve is for lovers and that meant tonight was for them alone. Their first Christmas together had been nerves and awkwardness, trying to transition from best mates to lovers. Every one thereafter had been easy in comparison.

Dean set the pudding down on the table and watched as Seamus placed a bell as high as he could reach, singing in Gaelic and shaking his rear as he hit the chorus. Dean's heart swelled so big he thought it might just burst and his tone was loving and fond as he called Seamus over to eat.

Tomorrow they'd be surrounded by family, but tonight all they had and wanted was each other.

And yes, this is actually referring to the Knave of Hearts and the White Rabbit.

( Taste-testing. Knave/Rabbit. PG-13. )

Day Two.

( A Charlie Brown Christmas. Eric/Bobby. PG )