Fic: Not Like Girls Remus/Sirius R
Mar. 8th, 2006 11:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wildestrangerWritten for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cathybites in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hpvalensmut.
Title: Not Like Girls
Author: Wildestranger
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3043
Warnings: Much swearing.
Summary: Remus and Sirius spend Valentine’s Day getting drunk and talking about girls. There is also a rather, ahem, unique declaration of love. :)
Note: Both characters are over 18 in this.
Not like girls
“Oi, you tosser! Give it back!”
Sirius gives a flirtatious smirk (why not, after all) and flings the badly wrapped-up package to Remus, who starts juggling it, high throws that seem to frustrate James more than anything else so far this evening. But then Peter catches his foot in the red wrapping paper, which is still cluttering the floor, bumps into James and then they all go crashing down against Remus’ bed. Sirius laughs harder as James hits his head on the bedpost.
“Fuck, Peter, get off me! Lily’s going to be pissed off that I’m late anyway without me looking like I’ve been in a fight.”
Remus and Peter start laughing as well and who could resist James stomping around the room making distressed hippopotamus noises. Remus pulls down his shirt (it had ridden up in the sprawl; Sirius notices a small bruise on his belly) and makes a concerned face at James.
“Aww, won’t she love you if you’ve been a bad boy?”
“As long as she loves me enough to suck me off, and not decide I’m being too immature again.”
“You have to be mature to get a blowjob?”
James smacks Remus on the head just as the door opens with a polite knock.
“Been brawling again, Potter?”
“Argh, Lily, you shouldn’t come in like that! We could have been naked!”
“Like you lot have anything I haven’t seen before.”
Sirius sends her another lascivious wink and she rolls her eyes, but it seems to infuriate Prongs, which is what matters. Lily walks out, shaking her head and James follows like a good little boyfriend. Sirius gives what he likes to think of a delicate shudder of distaste and starts needling Peter about his date.
It’s been a good day so far; Sirius has received twenty-eight Valentine’s cards, all from silly girls that he has taken the time to mock both individually and collectively. James and Remus have sung out loud all the ones that had dirty limericks, composing alternative lyrics for those that didn’t. Sirius has a bottle of cheap wine and a big pile of Honeyduke’s chocolate, and he is very happy. Even though Remus insists on pointing out that wine and chocolate are what you give to girls on Valentine’s Day.
“M not a girl, you ponce.”
“Oh but your pout is so pretty.”
“Shut up, you wanker.”
Remus grins and goes back to his book. Sirius considers throwing a piece of chocolate at him, but decides against it. No need to waste the chocolate on friends who refuse to acknowledge his genius.
‘And anyway, nobody gave it to me. Bought it myself, me.”
Remus reads another few lines, then looks at Sirius over his book. The face he makes is full of sorrow and quite annoying.
“I’m so sorry, didn’t your boyfriend get you a card? Doesn’t he love you anymore? Perhaps you’re not pretty enough…”
Right. Cuddling the wine bottle must be abandoned in favour of thumping Moony. Sirius puts the wine and the chocolate carefully on the bedside table. Remus’ voice picks up new glee when Sirius stands up and gets closer.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You want everybody to think you’re pretty, aww, poor Sirius, losing his looks now that…”
The crowing tones turn into muffled yelping as Sirius stuffs a sock into Remus’ mouth. Remus’ refusal to let go of his book results in his defeat and Sirius’ satisfied smirking.
“Well, at least I don’t look like a prat who has James’ sock in my mouth.”
Remus spits, twice.
“That was James’ sock? You arse, you know he doesn’t wash them!”
Sirius’ smile is beatific.
“Well, he washes that sock. Seeing as it’s the one he keeps under his bed. Hiding from the house-elves.”
As Remus runs to the bathroom and retches, Sirius decides that Valentine’s Day can really be quite enjoyable.
: :
An hour later, Peter has left for another nerve-wracking date and Sirius has placated Remus with two mugs of wine and half a chocolate bar.
“And then there was Melinda Massalocks, you know the Hufflepuff with the great tits… ”
“Sirius.”
“And she’d always do the squealing noise when I put my hand under her skirt and so, of course, I had to hide my ears somewhere and they were just…”
“Sirius.”
“Hmm?”
Remus looks like he’s been grinding his teeth for the last five minutes. Sirius puts on his Oh-No-Professor-I’m-Innocent-And-Had-Nothing-To-Do-With-That-Pumpkin look.
“I might have mentioned this before. In fact, I’m sure I have. But in case you somehow mistakenly got the impression that I was interested in hearing about your sex-life, I can assure you that I really, really, really am not.”
Sirius’ grin shows his teeth.
“Why ever not, Moony? Don’t you like girls?”
And there the look of supreme smugness slips a little. Sirius wouldn’t notice if he hadn’t been looking for the twitch Remus gets in his left eye when Sirius is really successful in annoying him.
His voice is quiet and Sirius finds that he can’t look away from the ink stain on Remus’ collar.
“Don’t you like girls, Remus?”
Remus stares at his book, his lip caught between his teeth from before Sirius spoke and forgotten there, all bite missing.
“Boys, then?”
There a slight squeak in Sirius’ voice, which he tries to correct by coughing manfully. That seems to draw a reaction from Remus; a decided intake of breath, a pursing of lips, a careful look over his book.
“Actually, Sirius, it is quite possible to fancy both boys and girls.”
His voice is even, slightly superior as Remus’ often is, but somehow it pulls the ground from under Sirius’ feet. A litany of questions, most of them useless and offensive, things he can’t say like so you’re a shirtlifter then. Or what’s it like. Or did you ever fancy me.
Remus nods, as if this reaction, Sirius staring at him with his mouth open, is only what he expected. He turns back to his book and Sirius thinks oh no this won’t do at all.
“Do you have a boyfriend? I mean, is there somebody you’d be spending the day with…”
Only the slightest note of panic is showing in his voice and Sirius is pleased for having thought up such a good question. He allows a hesitant smile form on his face and peers inquisitively at Remus.
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend. Why, did you want to have a go?”
Remus speaks with low, scathing tones and Sirius is momentarily offended until his brain translates the last part of Remus’ words and then his stomach flips.
Remus is staring at him, an angry flush in his cheeks, his eyes hot and miserable. Sirius notices another smudged stain of ink on Remus’ wrist, where the pulse is almost visible and furious, and swallows hard.
Because suddenly Remus has turned from somebody whom he can’t ever touch to somebody he must, right now, in all possible ways. It’s dizzying, this, an awful want that leaves him shaking, while Remus watches on, wary and contemptuous.
Sirius swallows again and forces himself to speak.
“Suppose. We could. You know, give it a go, just to see what it’s like. Seeing as Prongs and Wormtail are out shagging some girls. Don’t seem fair that we wouldn’t, wouldn’t get a chance.”
Remus is still suspicious and for a breathless moment Sirius waits to discover whether his suggestion is interpreted as Sirius-being-a-drunken-twat or Sirius-being-a-selfish-twat-who-uses-his-friends. He tries to put on a look of affection and friendly fondness, but there is too much weighing on this decision for that to work.
“What precisely do you want, Sirius?”
Remus’ voice is calm and low, but Sirius knows better than to think it casual. He opts for careful carelessness in response.
“Well, what d’ya blokes do? Blowjobs? Buggery? I’m up or anything, really.”
Sirius gives a good impression of a dazzling smile, and Remus’ face goes even more blank.
“Really.”
One theatrical wink and a few greedy gulps of wine later, and then Remus is standing up before him, his hands curling and uncurling into fists, brushing against his sides.
“Well, in that case. Get up.”
Sirius sways and pours half his mug over his shirt. He observes Remus staring with narrowed eyes the procession of liquid, soaking through the white t-shirt, running down Sirius’ skin. The watchful attention brings goose bumps to Sirius’ flesh as he stumbles to get up.
“M’okay. What we going to do then?”
A flash of smile that is both threatening and stirring.
“We’re going to fuck, as you said. Rather, I’m going to fuck you. Over that table, there.”
Sirius feels his nipples harden, sees Remus notice this, and swallows.
“Oh?”
“Yes. That’s what we shirtlifters do, see. Blowjobs are all well and good, but you wouldn’t have the proper experience without a cock up your arse.”
“Right.”
The calm prefect’s voice saying such dirty things really shouldn’t be so hot. Sirius sways a bit more on his feet, and for a few drunken moments wonders whether Remus would catch him if he fell over. And whether he’d get told off in that voice.
“Unless, of course, you’re scared?”
Sirius attempts to stand up straighter and has to grab hold of Remus’ tie to keep steady.
“M’not scared. Stop talking shite and let’s get on with it, yeah?”
His hand is removed from Remus’ tie, and Sirius decides to think more on the combination of Remus, tie and prefecty voice at a later date.
“Take your clothes off.”
“All of them?”
“Leave the shirt. Has to be there for me to lift, doesn’t it?”
Remus’ smile is sharp and Sirius wants to lick it off. Instead, he tries to yank down his trousers and kick off his boots, annoying slow buttons and thick material until Remus gets bored of his frustrated grunting and spells them off, leaving Sirius with his white school shirt and a red tie.
“Right then. Come over here. Bend over.”
“Is that it?”
There is bitter glee in Remus’ voice when he answers and Sirius shivers.
“What did you expect, Padfoot, pink hearts and girly kisses?”
It isn’t enough that he is standing half naked in front of a fully dressed Remus, about to bend over a table and take it up the arse. But he’s buggered (oh the pun, Sirius thinks and grimaces) if that’s all he’s getting.
“Well, at least…oh fuck this.”
He sees the sudden shock on Remus’ face as he grabs him by the neck and kisses him messily and hard. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing with his tongue, vague thoughts that this should somehow be different than kissing girls evaporating before the slight stubble on Remus’ cheek and hard lips pressing into his. Remus tugs his lower lip into his mouth and Sirius’s knees buckle.
Then the desk is behind him, sharp corners pressing into his thighs and Remus finishes the kiss with a last bite and turns Sirius over. An almost gentle push on his lower back and Sirius bends over, rests himself on his elbows. He tries to imagine what he looks like, arse in air, white shirttails almost covering his blush, his cock rubbing against the table.
“So is this what you do then?”
“Hmm?”
There’s a sound of buttons opening and Sirius resists the urge to turn around and look at Remus’ cock.
“Stick your dick up other blokes’ arses? Is that it?”
An obscene squirting noise and then bloody cold wet ngh fingers are stroking him, too fast and twisting and Sirius feels like he’s going blind.
“That’s one thing. There’s other stuff, of course. Rimming. Fisting. All kinds of stuff with balls and such.”
Remus’ voice is growing serious again and sounds like it should be saying things like you naughty boy how should I punish you.
“But mostly there’s this.”
And then there’s a finger pushing inside him and a part of Sirius’ brain is screaming oh fuck I have a finger up my arse and the other part is just shrieking oh fuck. It hurts but there’s something else too, a sense of being filled that feels far too good and between that and the hand on his cock Sirius can’t really breathe. Then the finger brushes against something else inside him and Sirius gives up coherent thought.
Remus presses his body against him, the buttons of his shirt rubbing against Sirius’ sweat soaked, thinly covered back. Remus hands are working on him and in him, more fingers now and a slower pace on his cock, and as Sirius’ hips buck and shudder under Remus’ manipulation, it occurs to him that he doesn’t have to just crouch there and take it. Not that he doesn’t want to twitch there and take it, but there’s also something else he can do. An awkward twisting of the body and reaching of the hand, and Sirius grabs hold of Remus’ tie, pulls it over his shoulder and pulls Remus closer.
He can’t really turn his head very much but he manages to lick at Remus’ jaw and feels the hands on his body slip and shiver. Remus’ skin tastes sweaty and he can’t stop licking it, biting into his cheek when Remus pushes his fingers in and out of him.
Then the hands are removed and Sirius can’t help spreading his legs a little because now he wants more, wants something else, more touching, more anything. Remus is breathing hard on his ear and his fingers are pressing into Sirius’ hips, keeping him in place as Remus slowly pushes inside him. It’s too big and hard and it hurts, but Sirius can’t move, caught between Remus’ hard body and the desk, and so he closes his eyes and takes it. A few shuddering breaths and he can feel Remus up against him, his hipbones sharp against Sirius arse, his cock pulsing inside him.
“Okay?”
For the first time tonight Remus sounds like he’s not punishing Sirius, like they’re friends again and Sirius lets his head fall against Remus’ shoulder, his eyes closed and his body shaking with exhaustion. There’s a soft press of chapped lips against his forehead, and Remus’ voice, concerned.
“You okay, Padfoot?”
Sirius nods, then nods again and nuzzles into Remus’ neck. He feels the pull away of the body behind him and his mouth opens to let out a keening noise. Then Remus is pushing into him again, is fucking him slowly and Sirius loses all breath and pushes back. There’s a hand on his cock again, teasing and slow and Sirius keeps desperately trying to fuck it, Remus’ fingers too slick and leisurely.
Remus’ tie in his hand is slippery with sweat and Sirius keeps pulling at it, pulling Remus closer with every thrust and probably choking him. He tries to wrap his fingers around it but they slide, useless and thick with blood like the rest of him. Remus nudges him with his head, then leans down to bite Sirius’ throat while his thumb presses into Sirius’ cock and Sirius can’t help but come messily over Remus’ fingers. Sirius is still shuddering when Remus opens his mouth against the bitten skin and jerks once, twice, then crashes down on top of Sirius.
A few moments of exhausted panting before Sirius begins to realise how truly uncomfortable the wooden desk is against his sticky skin. A low grunt and a shove backwards extricate him from Remus and allow him to pull away.
Sweat is cooling on his skin and Sirius rubs a tired hand over his chest, then his belly where a few drops of come remain. Standing seems to be a bit more difficult than usually.
“Scourgify.”
Remus doesn’t sound any more energetic than he feels, but the words are steady and efficient, resulting in light scrubbing over Sirius’ body and a faint smell of pines in the air. Sirius raises his head to stare up at Remus, who is standing there leaning against his bedpost, watching Sirius, tired and thoughtful.
: :
“And then she actually swore, Lily swore, she says Potter you stupid fuck, coming on my face does not say I love you. And I just started laughing and I keep thinking oh shit I need to stop and explain to her but it was just so funny and I couldn’t stop and so…”
“And so she stormed out and dumped you for the twenty-seventh time?”
Remus is laughing, a sly smile that twists his face into something new and compelling. Or perhaps not new, but Sirius has only recently learned to read Remus’ face and body as signs of desire and he is still stunned by this lust that steals his breath and makes him stumble before his friend. Remus is careful about looking at him and Sirius wonders whether it isn’t just because he keeps blushing whenever Remus does.
“Yeah. Girls. Don’t recognise true love, do they, even when it’s…”
James’ voice is still full of mirth, but the possibilities of punning seem to choke him as he giggles helplessly.
“Even when it’s staring them right in the face?”
Remus keeps a straight face for all of four seconds and then they all burst out laughing, Sirius taking the opportunity to lean weakly against Remus and nuzzle his shoulder by accident. Only the slightest hitch of breath suggests that Remus has noticed before he pulls back. He doesn’t even try to look innocent when Remus turns to face him.
Later, Sirius waits until the wanking noises coming out from behind the bed curtains have been replaced by snoring and sleepy snuffling, before walking up to Remus’ bed and sliding in. He doesn’t pause to hear an invitation; he assumes Remus has already made up his mind about why this is a bad idea.
“Look, this is stupid, anybody could hear us and anyway…”
“I’d let you come on my face.”
There’s a moment of startled silence, and how Sirius wishes he could see the look on Remus’ face, before the sniggering starts. Pleased to have interrupted an explanation of the worthy and weighty reasons why they shouldn’t keep shagging, Sirius bends down, and begins to prove his feelings.
cathybites in hpvalensmut.Title: Not Like Girls
Author: Wildestranger
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3043
Warnings: Much swearing.
Summary: Remus and Sirius spend Valentine’s Day getting drunk and talking about girls. There is also a rather, ahem, unique declaration of love. :)
Note: Both characters are over 18 in this.
Not like girls
“Oi, you tosser! Give it back!”
Sirius gives a flirtatious smirk (why not, after all) and flings the badly wrapped-up package to Remus, who starts juggling it, high throws that seem to frustrate James more than anything else so far this evening. But then Peter catches his foot in the red wrapping paper, which is still cluttering the floor, bumps into James and then they all go crashing down against Remus’ bed. Sirius laughs harder as James hits his head on the bedpost.
“Fuck, Peter, get off me! Lily’s going to be pissed off that I’m late anyway without me looking like I’ve been in a fight.”
Remus and Peter start laughing as well and who could resist James stomping around the room making distressed hippopotamus noises. Remus pulls down his shirt (it had ridden up in the sprawl; Sirius notices a small bruise on his belly) and makes a concerned face at James.
“Aww, won’t she love you if you’ve been a bad boy?”
“As long as she loves me enough to suck me off, and not decide I’m being too immature again.”
“You have to be mature to get a blowjob?”
James smacks Remus on the head just as the door opens with a polite knock.
“Been brawling again, Potter?”
“Argh, Lily, you shouldn’t come in like that! We could have been naked!”
“Like you lot have anything I haven’t seen before.”
Sirius sends her another lascivious wink and she rolls her eyes, but it seems to infuriate Prongs, which is what matters. Lily walks out, shaking her head and James follows like a good little boyfriend. Sirius gives what he likes to think of a delicate shudder of distaste and starts needling Peter about his date.
It’s been a good day so far; Sirius has received twenty-eight Valentine’s cards, all from silly girls that he has taken the time to mock both individually and collectively. James and Remus have sung out loud all the ones that had dirty limericks, composing alternative lyrics for those that didn’t. Sirius has a bottle of cheap wine and a big pile of Honeyduke’s chocolate, and he is very happy. Even though Remus insists on pointing out that wine and chocolate are what you give to girls on Valentine’s Day.
“M not a girl, you ponce.”
“Oh but your pout is so pretty.”
“Shut up, you wanker.”
Remus grins and goes back to his book. Sirius considers throwing a piece of chocolate at him, but decides against it. No need to waste the chocolate on friends who refuse to acknowledge his genius.
‘And anyway, nobody gave it to me. Bought it myself, me.”
Remus reads another few lines, then looks at Sirius over his book. The face he makes is full of sorrow and quite annoying.
“I’m so sorry, didn’t your boyfriend get you a card? Doesn’t he love you anymore? Perhaps you’re not pretty enough…”
Right. Cuddling the wine bottle must be abandoned in favour of thumping Moony. Sirius puts the wine and the chocolate carefully on the bedside table. Remus’ voice picks up new glee when Sirius stands up and gets closer.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You want everybody to think you’re pretty, aww, poor Sirius, losing his looks now that…”
The crowing tones turn into muffled yelping as Sirius stuffs a sock into Remus’ mouth. Remus’ refusal to let go of his book results in his defeat and Sirius’ satisfied smirking.
“Well, at least I don’t look like a prat who has James’ sock in my mouth.”
Remus spits, twice.
“That was James’ sock? You arse, you know he doesn’t wash them!”
Sirius’ smile is beatific.
“Well, he washes that sock. Seeing as it’s the one he keeps under his bed. Hiding from the house-elves.”
As Remus runs to the bathroom and retches, Sirius decides that Valentine’s Day can really be quite enjoyable.
: :
An hour later, Peter has left for another nerve-wracking date and Sirius has placated Remus with two mugs of wine and half a chocolate bar.
“And then there was Melinda Massalocks, you know the Hufflepuff with the great tits… ”
“Sirius.”
“And she’d always do the squealing noise when I put my hand under her skirt and so, of course, I had to hide my ears somewhere and they were just…”
“Sirius.”
“Hmm?”
Remus looks like he’s been grinding his teeth for the last five minutes. Sirius puts on his Oh-No-Professor-I’m-Innocent-And-Had-Nothing-To-Do-With-That-Pumpkin look.
“I might have mentioned this before. In fact, I’m sure I have. But in case you somehow mistakenly got the impression that I was interested in hearing about your sex-life, I can assure you that I really, really, really am not.”
Sirius’ grin shows his teeth.
“Why ever not, Moony? Don’t you like girls?”
And there the look of supreme smugness slips a little. Sirius wouldn’t notice if he hadn’t been looking for the twitch Remus gets in his left eye when Sirius is really successful in annoying him.
His voice is quiet and Sirius finds that he can’t look away from the ink stain on Remus’ collar.
“Don’t you like girls, Remus?”
Remus stares at his book, his lip caught between his teeth from before Sirius spoke and forgotten there, all bite missing.
“Boys, then?”
There a slight squeak in Sirius’ voice, which he tries to correct by coughing manfully. That seems to draw a reaction from Remus; a decided intake of breath, a pursing of lips, a careful look over his book.
“Actually, Sirius, it is quite possible to fancy both boys and girls.”
His voice is even, slightly superior as Remus’ often is, but somehow it pulls the ground from under Sirius’ feet. A litany of questions, most of them useless and offensive, things he can’t say like so you’re a shirtlifter then. Or what’s it like. Or did you ever fancy me.
Remus nods, as if this reaction, Sirius staring at him with his mouth open, is only what he expected. He turns back to his book and Sirius thinks oh no this won’t do at all.
“Do you have a boyfriend? I mean, is there somebody you’d be spending the day with…”
Only the slightest note of panic is showing in his voice and Sirius is pleased for having thought up such a good question. He allows a hesitant smile form on his face and peers inquisitively at Remus.
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend. Why, did you want to have a go?”
Remus speaks with low, scathing tones and Sirius is momentarily offended until his brain translates the last part of Remus’ words and then his stomach flips.
Remus is staring at him, an angry flush in his cheeks, his eyes hot and miserable. Sirius notices another smudged stain of ink on Remus’ wrist, where the pulse is almost visible and furious, and swallows hard.
Because suddenly Remus has turned from somebody whom he can’t ever touch to somebody he must, right now, in all possible ways. It’s dizzying, this, an awful want that leaves him shaking, while Remus watches on, wary and contemptuous.
Sirius swallows again and forces himself to speak.
“Suppose. We could. You know, give it a go, just to see what it’s like. Seeing as Prongs and Wormtail are out shagging some girls. Don’t seem fair that we wouldn’t, wouldn’t get a chance.”
Remus is still suspicious and for a breathless moment Sirius waits to discover whether his suggestion is interpreted as Sirius-being-a-drunken-twat or Sirius-being-a-selfish-twat-who-uses-his-friends. He tries to put on a look of affection and friendly fondness, but there is too much weighing on this decision for that to work.
“What precisely do you want, Sirius?”
Remus’ voice is calm and low, but Sirius knows better than to think it casual. He opts for careful carelessness in response.
“Well, what d’ya blokes do? Blowjobs? Buggery? I’m up or anything, really.”
Sirius gives a good impression of a dazzling smile, and Remus’ face goes even more blank.
“Really.”
One theatrical wink and a few greedy gulps of wine later, and then Remus is standing up before him, his hands curling and uncurling into fists, brushing against his sides.
“Well, in that case. Get up.”
Sirius sways and pours half his mug over his shirt. He observes Remus staring with narrowed eyes the procession of liquid, soaking through the white t-shirt, running down Sirius’ skin. The watchful attention brings goose bumps to Sirius’ flesh as he stumbles to get up.
“M’okay. What we going to do then?”
A flash of smile that is both threatening and stirring.
“We’re going to fuck, as you said. Rather, I’m going to fuck you. Over that table, there.”
Sirius feels his nipples harden, sees Remus notice this, and swallows.
“Oh?”
“Yes. That’s what we shirtlifters do, see. Blowjobs are all well and good, but you wouldn’t have the proper experience without a cock up your arse.”
“Right.”
The calm prefect’s voice saying such dirty things really shouldn’t be so hot. Sirius sways a bit more on his feet, and for a few drunken moments wonders whether Remus would catch him if he fell over. And whether he’d get told off in that voice.
“Unless, of course, you’re scared?”
Sirius attempts to stand up straighter and has to grab hold of Remus’ tie to keep steady.
“M’not scared. Stop talking shite and let’s get on with it, yeah?”
His hand is removed from Remus’ tie, and Sirius decides to think more on the combination of Remus, tie and prefecty voice at a later date.
“Take your clothes off.”
“All of them?”
“Leave the shirt. Has to be there for me to lift, doesn’t it?”
Remus’ smile is sharp and Sirius wants to lick it off. Instead, he tries to yank down his trousers and kick off his boots, annoying slow buttons and thick material until Remus gets bored of his frustrated grunting and spells them off, leaving Sirius with his white school shirt and a red tie.
“Right then. Come over here. Bend over.”
“Is that it?”
There is bitter glee in Remus’ voice when he answers and Sirius shivers.
“What did you expect, Padfoot, pink hearts and girly kisses?”
It isn’t enough that he is standing half naked in front of a fully dressed Remus, about to bend over a table and take it up the arse. But he’s buggered (oh the pun, Sirius thinks and grimaces) if that’s all he’s getting.
“Well, at least…oh fuck this.”
He sees the sudden shock on Remus’ face as he grabs him by the neck and kisses him messily and hard. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing with his tongue, vague thoughts that this should somehow be different than kissing girls evaporating before the slight stubble on Remus’ cheek and hard lips pressing into his. Remus tugs his lower lip into his mouth and Sirius’s knees buckle.
Then the desk is behind him, sharp corners pressing into his thighs and Remus finishes the kiss with a last bite and turns Sirius over. An almost gentle push on his lower back and Sirius bends over, rests himself on his elbows. He tries to imagine what he looks like, arse in air, white shirttails almost covering his blush, his cock rubbing against the table.
“So is this what you do then?”
“Hmm?”
There’s a sound of buttons opening and Sirius resists the urge to turn around and look at Remus’ cock.
“Stick your dick up other blokes’ arses? Is that it?”
An obscene squirting noise and then bloody cold wet ngh fingers are stroking him, too fast and twisting and Sirius feels like he’s going blind.
“That’s one thing. There’s other stuff, of course. Rimming. Fisting. All kinds of stuff with balls and such.”
Remus’ voice is growing serious again and sounds like it should be saying things like you naughty boy how should I punish you.
“But mostly there’s this.”
And then there’s a finger pushing inside him and a part of Sirius’ brain is screaming oh fuck I have a finger up my arse and the other part is just shrieking oh fuck. It hurts but there’s something else too, a sense of being filled that feels far too good and between that and the hand on his cock Sirius can’t really breathe. Then the finger brushes against something else inside him and Sirius gives up coherent thought.
Remus presses his body against him, the buttons of his shirt rubbing against Sirius’ sweat soaked, thinly covered back. Remus hands are working on him and in him, more fingers now and a slower pace on his cock, and as Sirius’ hips buck and shudder under Remus’ manipulation, it occurs to him that he doesn’t have to just crouch there and take it. Not that he doesn’t want to twitch there and take it, but there’s also something else he can do. An awkward twisting of the body and reaching of the hand, and Sirius grabs hold of Remus’ tie, pulls it over his shoulder and pulls Remus closer.
He can’t really turn his head very much but he manages to lick at Remus’ jaw and feels the hands on his body slip and shiver. Remus’ skin tastes sweaty and he can’t stop licking it, biting into his cheek when Remus pushes his fingers in and out of him.
Then the hands are removed and Sirius can’t help spreading his legs a little because now he wants more, wants something else, more touching, more anything. Remus is breathing hard on his ear and his fingers are pressing into Sirius’ hips, keeping him in place as Remus slowly pushes inside him. It’s too big and hard and it hurts, but Sirius can’t move, caught between Remus’ hard body and the desk, and so he closes his eyes and takes it. A few shuddering breaths and he can feel Remus up against him, his hipbones sharp against Sirius arse, his cock pulsing inside him.
“Okay?”
For the first time tonight Remus sounds like he’s not punishing Sirius, like they’re friends again and Sirius lets his head fall against Remus’ shoulder, his eyes closed and his body shaking with exhaustion. There’s a soft press of chapped lips against his forehead, and Remus’ voice, concerned.
“You okay, Padfoot?”
Sirius nods, then nods again and nuzzles into Remus’ neck. He feels the pull away of the body behind him and his mouth opens to let out a keening noise. Then Remus is pushing into him again, is fucking him slowly and Sirius loses all breath and pushes back. There’s a hand on his cock again, teasing and slow and Sirius keeps desperately trying to fuck it, Remus’ fingers too slick and leisurely.
Remus’ tie in his hand is slippery with sweat and Sirius keeps pulling at it, pulling Remus closer with every thrust and probably choking him. He tries to wrap his fingers around it but they slide, useless and thick with blood like the rest of him. Remus nudges him with his head, then leans down to bite Sirius’ throat while his thumb presses into Sirius’ cock and Sirius can’t help but come messily over Remus’ fingers. Sirius is still shuddering when Remus opens his mouth against the bitten skin and jerks once, twice, then crashes down on top of Sirius.
A few moments of exhausted panting before Sirius begins to realise how truly uncomfortable the wooden desk is against his sticky skin. A low grunt and a shove backwards extricate him from Remus and allow him to pull away.
Sweat is cooling on his skin and Sirius rubs a tired hand over his chest, then his belly where a few drops of come remain. Standing seems to be a bit more difficult than usually.
“Scourgify.”
Remus doesn’t sound any more energetic than he feels, but the words are steady and efficient, resulting in light scrubbing over Sirius’ body and a faint smell of pines in the air. Sirius raises his head to stare up at Remus, who is standing there leaning against his bedpost, watching Sirius, tired and thoughtful.
: :
“And then she actually swore, Lily swore, she says Potter you stupid fuck, coming on my face does not say I love you. And I just started laughing and I keep thinking oh shit I need to stop and explain to her but it was just so funny and I couldn’t stop and so…”
“And so she stormed out and dumped you for the twenty-seventh time?”
Remus is laughing, a sly smile that twists his face into something new and compelling. Or perhaps not new, but Sirius has only recently learned to read Remus’ face and body as signs of desire and he is still stunned by this lust that steals his breath and makes him stumble before his friend. Remus is careful about looking at him and Sirius wonders whether it isn’t just because he keeps blushing whenever Remus does.
“Yeah. Girls. Don’t recognise true love, do they, even when it’s…”
James’ voice is still full of mirth, but the possibilities of punning seem to choke him as he giggles helplessly.
“Even when it’s staring them right in the face?”
Remus keeps a straight face for all of four seconds and then they all burst out laughing, Sirius taking the opportunity to lean weakly against Remus and nuzzle his shoulder by accident. Only the slightest hitch of breath suggests that Remus has noticed before he pulls back. He doesn’t even try to look innocent when Remus turns to face him.
Later, Sirius waits until the wanking noises coming out from behind the bed curtains have been replaced by snoring and sleepy snuffling, before walking up to Remus’ bed and sliding in. He doesn’t pause to hear an invitation; he assumes Remus has already made up his mind about why this is a bad idea.
“Look, this is stupid, anybody could hear us and anyway…”
“I’d let you come on my face.”
There’s a moment of startled silence, and how Sirius wishes he could see the look on Remus’ face, before the sniggering starts. Pleased to have interrupted an explanation of the worthy and weighty reasons why they shouldn’t keep shagging, Sirius bends down, and begins to prove his feelings.
