15 years forward

emprerss@yahoo.com — Sat, 28 Nov 2009 02:12:27 GMT

Sage didn't know what to think at the moment, Westly was late, the other man wasn't here and the memories from all before were suddenly rushing over him. The memories of Westly coming home later and later and him being left there, alone with nothing but himself and a cold dinner. He didn't want to think the worst, but as time drew on, he couldn't help it, and so he gave up finally, standing up, limbs heavy and heart hurting as he blew out the candles, waving a hand and snapping an instruction to the House Elf that came to clean it all up. He didn't want to see or deal with it at the moment. He took the wine glass and walked into the living room, sitting down and finishing up the glass quickly, slouching down in the seat as he leaned back, wondering if putting his heart back into this was a good idea or not.

emprerss@yahoo.com — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 05:00:40 GMT

Sage was excited to go out. It had been awhile since he and Westly had managed to get away from the boring old castle and he was almost bouncing with excitement. They were both old enough to go to the club, well in Westly's case a bit of magic helped that, but he was excited to dance with the other man, see how he would move. He had gotten dressed for the occasion, managing to fit his ass into the tightest pair of jeans he owned, ones that hugged his legs all the way down, and underwear was not something he could manage to get on as well. To pair it off, he had worn a plain white button down, perfectly tailored to fit his shoulders and accentuate everything, not that he needed it with most of the buttons undone.

He and Westly had just arrived at the club and he waited for the other man, a hand reaching out behind him and waiting for Westly, looking behind him and he smirked. "Come on love," he said his steps a little bit bouncy as he tugged the other man to the front of the club.

February 15th

emprerss@yahoo.com — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 04:09:16 GMT

Left for Sage on Westly's pillow.

valentine's day <3

emprerss@yahoo.com — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 21:40:13 GMT

Who Westy & Sage
What Celebrating Valentine's Day

Among other things, Westly was nervous. He was nervous and excited and far too busy to even let himself stop for a second. This had to be perfect. Not only was it Valentine's Day, but it was their Anniversary. And yes, okay, they hadn't been together for the past however many years, but still, it meant something to the both of them. Westly wanted Sage to know just how much he cared, and although he didn't need a day to do it, he was going to take advantage of the 14th.

No one had seen where Westly stayed during those ten months; it was a cottage that his family stopped using at least a decade ago, one they only kept because of posterity and reputation. They couldn't be seen selling a property which had been in their possession for over a century, could they? But Westly loved it. It was not small, by any means, but that did not mean it was large, either. It was big, but not big enough for him to go positively mad all by himself. It was peaceful, and Merlin, the view was spectacular. Westly knew Sage would love it. Or, he hoped.

He cleaned up his flat, just enough so it was presentable. Sage would be over in about thirty minutes, but Westly still had many steps to execute. He would be meeting Sage at the French cottage, but Westly still had to leave out instructions for Sage. He dressed in a pair of fancy slacks, pairing it with a light pink button up shirt. He wanted to look good for Sage, but then again, he always did. Pulling out a piece of parchment, Westly quickly wrote Sage a note. He placed it on the table next to the front door, hoping that Sage would just come in when no one answered the door.

Taking one final look around, Westly sighed. This was it. He apparated to his cottage, arriving right outside the front door. It was beautiful here, the view relaxed him instantly, and Westly could instantaneously remember the months spend in solitude in this very spot. He couldn't have chosen a better place.

He walked into the cottage, shutting the door behind him. It was all set up, the dining room table, the candles, and Westly could only hope that Sage loved it.

emprerss@yahoo.com — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 21:26:13 GMT

Sage,

I was wondering what you were doing a week from Saturday?

- W.

emprerss@yahoo.com — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 03:42:17 GMT

Letter attached to owl parcels.

Book attached with note:

This novel is in my top five. I'd love to read it to you sometime.

Photos attached with note:

Sage, I know how important your restaurant business is. I bought this property in Saumur, France, which is where I was during those months. There is an apartment on the second story, which I thought you could always live in. The town is beautiful, and I would love to show you all of the sights.

Teddy bears attached with note:

These are for Mace, and I hope he enjoys them immensely.

emprerss@yahoo.com — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 23:06:20 GMT

Sage and Westly
Dinner #2

It amazed Westly how slowly ten days took to pass. The first dinner had gone well. Really well. It was hard restraining himself, pulling back before he could greet Sage with a kiss on the cheek, and stopping himself before he reached for the other mans hand across the table. Even those movements felt awkward, though, not having done them in a while. He couldn't exactly remember the last time he held Sage's hand, and that in itself was an indication that something had needed to change. He knew Sage had done what he did out of some kind of concern, and all Westly could do was hope that the other man still held a bit of something for him.

Over the past few weeks, Westly had begun to tutor small children before Hogwarts, teaching them basic Arithmetic and French. It was rewarding, seeing the children progressively begin to learn something over the days he taught them. Years ago he would have thought that children would be tedious and annoying, but he was different now, and almost appreciated their naivete. Teaching was something that Westly thought he was naturally good at; well, at least so far. He couldn't say that he'd still enjoy it ten years later, but he knew that having that occupation was making him feel happy and fulfilled for the time being.

Standing in front of the mirror, Westly looked at his appearance. He wasn't sure if he was young enough to still wear a white blazer and a white button down shirt, but he figured that it didn't really matter as long as he looked decent. He paired that with a pair of light brown trousers and shoes to match. It was hard finding a good balance with his clothing, because he knew that while he still had to impress Sage, it wasn't as important considering they were no longer together. They were patching things up, but there were plenty of problems still lingering on the surface. Westly knew it had to take a while for things to go back, if they ever would, but he was willing to wait. It had taken a sudden wake up call and months of isolation to realize it. Seeing Sage, talking to Sage, being with Sage just made everything better.

Westly grabbed his wallet and his wand, putting both in his pocket. With one last look in the mirror, Westly exited his flat and walked out the door. Funnily enough, because he had moved into the apartment complex that he wanted, he was now only a block away from Sage's place. It made it difficult to keep his distance, but so far, he was doing just fine.

His shoes pattered against the marble of the steps leading to Sage's flat and Westly could feel his palms sweating as he stood at the threshold. He couldn't help but think it was ridiculous that he was still so nervous after all this time. Honestly, it made him feel like an innocent teenage bird. Which he wasn't. Raising one hand to the door, Westly knocked two times, dropping his hand from the wood.

emprerss@yahoo.com — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 02:49:40 GMT

Who Westly and Sage
What Classes are combined for a day and Westly gives Sage a hand job.
When Afternoon class
Rating High

The days approaching the O.W.L exams were slowly becoming more tedious and less original. Teachers replaced unique exercises with proctored lessons prescribed by the exam coordinators. With his homework and books in hand, Westly walked down the cooridors, paying attention to little else. His mind was focused on his classes, since he would need only the best exam results for his future career, but the rest of the time, Westly was busy thinking about a certain boy that had pushed through both his head and his heart. In a matter of only three months, Sage Goyle had managed to change Westly's thoughts from his coursework to how many different ways they could fuck. And wasn't just about their sexual attraction, although it definitely was needed and a plus, but Westly felt a deeper connection, one that only came from being best mates.

Abruptly, however, a younger year dashed in front of him, causing Westly to have to quickly turn out of the way. "Honestly!" he exclaimed under his breath, sending the two boys an indignant look. He hated first years; they were so carefree and it was ridiculously annoying. They had absolutely no self-control.

Apathetically walking into his Charms class, Westly quickly took his seat at the back of the class, setting his books down on the desk and sitting in the seat. He was early, of course, and evidently the only responsible one there.

emprerss@yahoo.com — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 04:46:21 GMT

Who Westly and Sage
What Westly goes to the Nott Manor for dinner and gets a surprise.
When Approximately a week and a half after the park.
Rating High

Truth be told, Westly was actually looking forward to this dinner with his family. His father wasn't going to be there, thankfully, but his sister and mother would be joining him. For the first hour, however, Sadira would be the only one to accompany him, their mother having to finish up some business with her clientèle. Westly didn't being with his sister for the first hour, because over the past ten months, he'd learned that there was no use holding grudges with his family members. Besides his dad, of course, that bond could never be repaired. But Sadira had always been sort of a vindictive bitch, it wasn't like she was doing it to hurt Westly. Therefore, Westly felt it was only right to offer her another chance, considering that a dinner was ostensibly very innocent and calm. There would be no fighting over the dinner table, especially with their mother there. They both tried impressing her, holding their chins high and maintaining a serenity that Westly needed.

It was hard not seeing Sage, even though he was so close. There had been many days were he debated whether or not he should just go over and say hello, but every time, he had refrained. It was obvious that Sage didn't want to complicate things by having Westly back in his life, so Westly could have to respect that. No matter how much he wanted to just say that it was fucking ridiculous and they were supposed to be friends no matter what. What was in the past was in fact, in the past, and they were both fine now. Of course, there was Mace, but that little boy was precious, anyways.

He walked into the Manor with ease, hanging up his coat on the rack, and walking into the sitting room. Sadira was waiting there, a book in her hands. She glanced up from the pages and smiled, the ends of her lips tugging upwards, causing her face to scrunch up almost unnaturally. Westly smirked back. Their awkward conversation was stilted and strained, so Westly chose to go into the kitchen and pour himself a glass of wine.

part 3

emprerss@yahoo.com — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 17:27:27 GMT

Who Westly and Sage
What Westly comes home from France
When Approximately 10 months + 2 weeks after the break up
Where The park
Rating OMG I DONT EVEN KNOW.

It had been a long 11 months.

Westly only lasted two weeks without Sage, unable to stand himself for very long. He tried to ignore the constant feeling of emptiness every time he walked into his flat, but every empty picture frame reminded him whether he liked it or not. He slept less every night, yet every morning he forced himself to eat. The silence was deafening. He didn't even come home four out of the five days he worked. He slept in his office, although now, his work faltered. It felt as if everything was slipping out of his grasp.

One night, when Westly actually returned home after his day at work, he couldn't stand it any longer. Standing in the bathroom, staring at his reflection, Westly tried to think of Sage's last words. He stared at that mirror for hours, trying to see if Sage had been right. With his body weak and his heart broken, Westly knew that there was no other choice. He was killing himself, and he had to stay alive. Sage needed him happy and healthy. And he needed himself happy and healthy.

Westly resigned the next day. His boss yelled at him, ordering for some kind of explanation. In an unprecedented event, Westly gave him one. Lots, actually. He started yelling that he was no longer himself, that he had lost too many things working, and it was impossible for him to stay. Without staying to listen to the reply, Westly grabbed his things and apparated home. After writing a quick letter to his family, telling them he was going away for a bit, Westly packed up all of his things. He flooed to their summer house in the French countryside, knowing that he had to get better.

It had been hard at first. Bored and anxious, Westly didn't know what to do with his time. He tried gardening, although that hadn't worked. He tried reading, but that gave him too much time for his thoughts. Strangely enough, the only thing that satisfied him was painting. He tried his best to push all thoughts of Sage to the back burner of his mind, knowing full well that he had to do this himself. If he couldn't motivate himself to be happy, then how could someone else?

After five months in solitude, Westly finally began to feel like himself again. Not every part had returned of course, but he was feeling better. A smile would appear every now and again, and whenever he saw someone walking down the street, he had an urge to talk to them, not to hide away in his room and shut all the windows. He knew that his family was probably trying to contact him, but Westly set up multiple safety wards to deter any kind of owl. He didn't want to speak to them, he had to do this without any distractions.

As the six month passed, Westly felt more refreshed. He was sleeping eight hours every night, waking up and making himself a pot of tea. Although it wasn't the most exciting life, it was routine. He was returning back to normalcy, and it felt good. He began to talk to people after the seventh month, although obviously not everyone was good enough to talk to him. And as if that didn't indicate it, Westly also gained back his sense of arrogance. By the end of the eighth month, Westly had returned back to himself. He felt happy and alive, and itched to get back to England. Something, however, held him back.

In the last two months of his sabbatical, Westly focused on trying to make himself happy. He went out for walks, read, and talked to people. He went out at night, enjoying the small town and the local pub. He didn't drunk much out of self discipline, but occasionally he'd let himself have a pint. He began to clean the house, which showed care for his surroundings. He spent a good two weeks just cooking and learning new recipes, wanting to better other people as well. He gained weight and muscle, running every day for an hour. During the last week of the tenth month, Westly knew that he was ready. There was just one last thing he had to do.

Returning to England had been the easy choice. Deciding to confront a certain someone, however, was not. He knew it was necessary in the grand scheme of things, but it made him slightly nervous. He knew he could do it, of course he could, it was just a bit awkward from his standpoint. He had no idea what Sage had been doing all these months. For all Westly knew, he could be seeing someone else. But... Westly figured that would be alright. He couldn't very well force Sage to give him another shot, and even though Westly still loved Sage as much as he did a year before, he understood that he'd be happy without him as well.

So, that brought Westly back to England. London, more specifically. He roamed the streets, walking up and down the sidewalks, looking for Sage. Westly knew he should have asked someone else where to find Sage, but he didn't want to talk to his family just yet. As the fourth hour of his search passed, Westly was more determined than ever.

He heard the faint sound of children happily yelling, and he glanced over absently. He watched the children in the park for a while, but just as he was about to turn away, he heard a laugh. The laugh. Sage's laugh. Heartbeat increasing, Westly walked over to the playground, scanning the crowd for Sage. Then Westly saw him. He was on the ground, playing with a child. They were both laughing, and immediately Westly smiled. He took a deep breath and started walking over. Soon, he found himself standing behind Sage.

"Sage," he said, hands in his pockets. He could fucking hear his heart beating, and Gods why the bloody hell was he being such a woman about this? Calming himself down, he swallowed. "It's Westly."

part 2

emprerss@yahoo.com — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 01:20:27 GMT

Who: Sage & Westly
What: Sage gets home after a week without telling Westly and Westly didn't notice
Where: Their home
Rating: R FOR ANGST

Sage got out of the cab he had hired to take him back from where he had been staying at a spa for the past week. Usually he would've been calmer, happier to be back but as he stared up at the house all he felt was a million and one weights sitting on his shoulders making him want to crumble into the ground. He swallowed, turning and paying the driver and taking his single bag before moving, standing up on the stairs feeling a bit like a stranger. He had been gone a fucking week and he'd not gotten any of the owl's he usually got from Westly on a trip, nor had he gotten a demanding letter asking where he was because quite frankly he had been sure Westly had forgotten about him. At the time he had known it was irrational to think that, but it was beginning to feel like Westly didn't even realize he was there anymore, day in and day out he didn't see the man and when he did he was lucky if he got a hello let alone a smile or a kiss on his cheek.

So he had decided to take action. He had left, suddenly, without notice, just packed a bag and went to the Spa he usually frequented booking himself for a week with the complete works and then he had waited. Had waited for even the smallest gesture to let him know Westly had missed him or had noticed and there had been nothing nothing at all. And now he was back and staring at the door was the hardest thing he had even done. He didn't want to go inside and he didn't want to see Westly because he was sad, he was also fucking angry at the other man for doing this to him. Whatever his reasoning was, whatever had happened Sage did not deserve to be treated like this. After everything he had done for the man to keep him alive and healthy and after everything they had gone through he would've thought he could've been threated better than this.

He wondered if Westly knew about his affairs, now numerous as the months had passed since that first night with Spencer so long ago. He had been careful at first, not wanting the other man to find out, but then he had stopped caring, coming home drunk and reeking of sex and Westly hadn't noticed. And if he had he hadn't done anything.

He shook his head as he opened the door and stepped inside, looking around at everything as he set his bag on the floor and walked towards the study, figuring it was the best place to find Westly. "I'm home," he said his voice flat, emotionless, hopeless.

part 1

emprerss@yahoo.com — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 21:40:53 GMT

Who Preston & Sage
Where Pub in London
What Preston lays down his moves!

Preston didn't go out much, but really, tonight called for it. It was his 20th birthday, and all of his mates were treating him to a few drinks at the Chesire in Southeast London. He would have preferred a stripper or two, but some hard liquor would do, as well. He sat at the booth, listening to all of his friends talk about their lives, and Preston found himself getting slightly bored. He loved his mates, he honestly did, but he had to admit, he was desperately craving a good blow job or a good shag, or something. He was a very sexual person, and he hadn't shagged for a few days now. It was like he had bloody blue balls. Since he probably wouldn't have time to go to a club after this, Preston figured he had to scope out for a possible candidate in the pub he was in. His friends wouldn't be annoyed at all, he was blatantly gay, and they all knew he loved cock more than any of them loved ... their mothers. Or birds, but whatever.

"Hey mates, I'll be back in a bit, yeah?" he smirked, and ignored their sudden eruption of teasing. He heard Simon joke that he wouldn't come back, and Preston smiled. "Well, yeah, that's possible. Oh, sod off, go have a wank or something," he joked, before standing up and heading over to the bar. He scanned the patrons, frowning as he realised the only possible bloke was not really his type. He sighed, and figured that if no one else came in within the next five minutes, Preston would settle with him.