roartonrisen (
roartonrisen) wrote2018-01-03 12:19 pm
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In completely unsurprising news, Kieren has discovered that Quidditch (like all the other sports he's attempted) is going to go on a list of failures. He winces as he cradles his sprained wrist against his stomach, walking home and wondering exactly how humiliating it's going to be to have to ask Sirius to repair it for him, what with the whole reason he's injured being that he'd been trying to become more magically inclined.
So to speak, at least. Using his left hand to open the door to their place, he works to get his satchel off his shoulder with twice the work it normally takes, inhaling deeply to try and rehearse his words in his head. Unfortunately, he has the feeling that the best way to do this is to be direct and get straight to the point.
"Sirius?" he calls out, grimacing when he tries to hang the satchel in the closet, the injured wrist twisting a little uncomfortably. "You wouldn't happen to have any healing magical potions on you at the moment, would you?"
So to speak, at least. Using his left hand to open the door to their place, he works to get his satchel off his shoulder with twice the work it normally takes, inhaling deeply to try and rehearse his words in his head. Unfortunately, he has the feeling that the best way to do this is to be direct and get straight to the point.
"Sirius?" he calls out, grimacing when he tries to hang the satchel in the closet, the injured wrist twisting a little uncomfortably. "You wouldn't happen to have any healing magical potions on you at the moment, would you?"
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"I'm not shocked," he says before adding a bit of a lie. "I knew it would be good. After all, it's not like it can possibly be that difficult, can it? It's just like making potions." Nevermind the fact that Sirius had always struggled a bit with potion.
He gives Kieren's foot a light nudge beneath the table then, a bit more playful. "Eat up then. Can't let any go to waste."
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He pushes right back at Sirius' foot, grinning the whole time. "What, am I meant to eat all of this?" he protests, gesturing to the pot. "I know I'm a bit on the lean side, but this is a bit much at one time."
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He gives Kieren's foot another nudge of his own, a playful little tussle as he grins wider. "What are we to do with the rest if you don't eat it? Should I go around offering it to any who'll take it?"
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"Unless you dream of wandering around the sidewalks shoving day old food at people," is his coy retort.
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"Well, we haven't got many neighbors out here," he remarks because there's really only James and he hardly counts. "We could go offer it to the little woodland creatures though." He's joking for the most part, doesn't mean it seriously, but he still can't quite bend his mind around to the idea of eating day-old food himself. "Won't it be cold and a bit slimy?"
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"Sirius, we definitely need to get you trying leftovers," he insists, because that seems ridiculous that it didn't happen. "Maybe I can make lunch tomorrow with the leftovers from this," he suggests.
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"They can even be a bit tasty," he promises, trying to infuse warmth and encouragement into his tone. "It's perfectly sanitary, we'll have some tomorrow and I'll prove it."
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"Alright," he says, twisting his wrist just a bit to curl his fingers briefly with Kieren's and returning the squeeze. His lips tug into a wide grin. "I'll trust you then. And, in the meantime, you can continue to lavish praise upon me for cooking a delicious meal and healing your broken wrist."
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Leaning forward over the table, he presses a kiss to Sirius' cheek. "Thank you, for healing me," he says, and means that with every bit of his heart.