|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2008-08-04 10:37:00
|Entry tags:||coauthor: emiime, hp fic better the instruction, hp fic remus/sam, hp fic teddy|
HP fic: Better the Instruction (1/22) [Teddy, Remus/Sam, adult]
Complete fic header:
Title: Better the Instruction
Authors: celandineb and emiime
Pairings with explicit sex: Remus solo, Remus/Sam (aka Stubby Boardman), Remus/Teddy, Teddy solo, Teddy/Andrew (OC), Teddy/Simon (OC).
Pairings referred to or implied: Bill/Fleur, Ginny/Harry, Hannah/Neville, Hermione/Ron, Remus/Sirius, Remus/Tonks, Remus/other men, Teddy/Victoire, Teddy/other boys.
Length: 22 chapters; approximately 186,000 words total
Activities/kinks/squicks: anal sex, arseplay, blowjobs, bondage, bottoming from the top, delayed orgasm, dirty pictures, dirty talk, exhibitionism, first time, frottage, incestuous fantasies, incest [including most of these activities], mutual masturbation, nipple clamps, nipple play, plugs, restraints, rimming, roleplaying, semi-public sex, wanking
Summary: Teddy Lupin, uncertain of his own sexuality, discovers that his father is queer. He persuades a reluctantly intrigued Remus to teach him about sex, although Remus is involved in an increasingly serious relationship of his own.
Notes: This story is AU: Remus survived the Battle of Hogwarts, although Tonks did not. Otherwise canon- and epilogue-compliant. The title is taken from Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice, act iii, sc. i, l. 23: Shylock: "The villany you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction."
Title: Better the Instruction (1/22)
Chapter pairings: Teddy solo, Remus/Sam; references to Remus/Sirius, Teddy/Victoire, and Teddy/other boys.
Chapter rating: adult
Chapter length: ~8600 words
Warnings: Wanking, rimming, non-explicit mentions of frottage and blowjobs and M/F sex, incestuous fantasies.
Summary: Teddy never expected to walk in on his father with another man. He certainly never expected to have this reaction. Also posted here.
Teddy leaned against his bedroom door, fumbling behind him with one hand for the lock. The other was pressed against his crotch where his cock pounded demandingly. His mind kept replaying the scene in the living room--to his chagrin, for each time he thought of it another wave of heat swept through him. Fuck. With the door secured, he shoved down his jeans and pants in a tangle and fell across the bed.
It wasn't as if he hadn't seen two men together before. Well, strictly speaking he hadn't seen two men together, except in magazines, but he'd been one of them, so that counted, right? But he hadn't done... that, only heard dirty whispers about it. But now he'd seen it, seen his father with his tongue in another bloke's arse, and both of them moaning and plainly enjoying it, and fuck but that wasn't supposed to get him hot, not seeing his father, but it was. Teddy whimpered and wrapped his hand around his cock, not even sure if he was doing it to hold himself back or get himself off, but he couldn't stop thinking about how it must feel to be spread open and licked and... god, he was doomed, he was coming by thinking about his dad, fuck fuck fuck.
He choked back a groan as he came and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Fuck. Oh, god, this was not good. He fumbled for his wand and vanished the mess he'd made on his rumpled duvet--it took three tries, his hand was shaking so badly--and did up his jeans, nearly catching his skin in the metal teeth of the zipper in his haste.
He could hear murmurs downstairs, then the sound of the front door closing. He sat cross-legged on his bed and buried his head in his hands and prayed that his father had left, but when he heard the heavy footsteps on the stairs, he knew--oh, he'd known all along--that he had hoped in vain. His father knew he was there, had seen him--Teddy kept recalling over and over the moment when their eyes had met--and now they were going to have to talk.
Teddy listened as his father's footsteps moved down the hall and stopped in front of his door. There was an infinite pause, then, before Remus knocked.
Briefly, Teddy considered curling into a ball and pretending he wasn't there, but instead, after a moment, he ran his hands through his hair, cleared his throat, and somehow managed to tell his father to come in.
"I didn't expect you tonight," Remus said. His cheeks were flushed and his ever-present cardigan was buttoned one button off. Teddy counted the buttons from top to bottom--one, two, three, four, five--trying not to notice the bulge in Remus's trousers that was not quite hidden by the loosely hanging wool. "I thought you were coming by tomorrow?"
Teddy shrugged. "Nothing to eat in the flat. I didn't think you'd mind."
"Look, Teddy..." Remus paused, swallowed, started again. "Can I sit down?"
There was nowhere to sit except the bed. Teddy nodded, scooting back, not trusting himself too close to his father just now.
"I imagine you're a bit upset with me," said Remus carefully.
"You never said you were, uh, queer." The blood was hot in Teddy's cheeks and he still couldn't look Remus in the face. "I mean, Mum... and you never saw anyone that I knew of, at all. I thought... I didn't think you did any of that. Grandmum always said you hated being a werewolf, didn't want to be with Mum because you were afraid of what it might do to her. Not that you'd hurt her, but because of the discrimination."
Remus sighed. "I should have talked to you about this a long time ago."
Teddy nodded, scowling. "Yeah. You should've," he spat, before he could think, then he shrank back against his headboard a little, not quite apologising.
Remus ran a hand through his hair and sighed again. "The truth is, Teddy, that I am, as you put, it, 'queer'. I tried with your mum. I loved her very much. She was, well, a good friend, and a lovely person, and she loved me, so I thought we'd give it a try. Before my werewolf status was made public, I hid it quite well for years, and, honestly, I thought this was another thing I could hide."
Teddy looked up through the fence of his lashes at his father, who was staring at his hands. "You didn't hide it from that bloke," he murmured, meaning the dark-haired man whose arse had been spread so invitingly for Remus's tongue. Teddy squirmed at the thought as a bit of a tingle began to spread downwards from his stomach.
"No," Remus said, "but then again, I never hid my werewolf status from the other werewolves. We know our own, Teddy. That applies in both cases. I met Sam several years ago. We've been friends for quite some time, and only more recently did our relationship, ah, as it were, move beyond friendship."
"I didn't need to know all that," Teddy mumbled. "You could have just told me it was a one-off, or something."
Remus turned to him. "Wouldn't you rather have the truth?"
Teddy sighed and swallowed. "I suppose."
"All right, then. I'm sorry you're upset about this, but I'm still your father, and the only parent you have." He looked sad. "If your mum had lived, I honestly don't know if we'd have stayed together or not. But that's true of a lot of couples."
"Yeah, I know," Teddy muttered, thinking of some of his friends from school whose parents were divorced or separated. "I just... I guess I'm just surprised that I never had a clue, you know? Did you... were you, um, with another bloke before Mum?"
His father's lips tightened. "Yes."
"Who?" Teddy stopped himself and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, not my business, right?"
"It's not that. My lover before your mother died." Remus shifted, crossing his arms. "After that I was very lonely, and among other things your mum helped to cheer me up. She didn't know that he and I were lovers, but she was aware that we were good friends, and she realised that I missed him a great deal."
"Oh." Teddy thought for a moment. "Sirius Black?"
Remus blinked fiercely. "Yes, Sirius. There's been no one since who's been quite like him. Anyhow." He shook his head, his face reddening. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, and that you had to find out the way you did. Not how I'd have chosen to do it, nor you either, I imagine."
"Um," Teddy said then, for a lack of anything more intelligent to say. He played with a tiny hole in the knee of his jeans that was just beginning to fray. Of course he wouldn't have chosen to find out that way, for fuck's sake, especially now that his rational mind and his entirely irrational libido were warring with each other at the remembrance of the spectacle on the living room sofa.
"You'll make it worse," Remus said, his voice strangely absent, but Teddy paid him no heed, widening and fraying the hole further.
"Would you have told me?" Teddy blurted suddenly, "I mean, ever?"
Remus took a moment before he answered. "I honestly don't know. I suppose I would have, eventually, if I ever got into a serious enough relationship, but for the moment, I thought it best that I protect you." He sighed. "I know now that wasn't the best course of action. I should've been honest with you, and I apologise."
Teddy nodded slowly, more used to being the one having to apologise than the one being apologised to. He lifted his head and tried to meet his father's eyes and found that he couldn't, quite, so he settled for staring at his father's mouth as he began to speak. And then he remembered where that mouth had been and he couldn't look at it any more.
"Were you going to say something, Ted?"
Teddy took a breath, then sighed it back out again, not answering.
"Do you have any questions for me? I want to answer them, if you do."
I want to know what it feels like, Teddy didn't say, the idea coming obscenely, seductively, into his mind. "Um. Not right now?" His voice spiralled up on the last word.
"If you need to have some time to get used to the idea, that's fine too."
Remus reached out as if to pat Teddy's knee, and Teddy flinched away, regretting it when he saw the sharp hurt flicker across his father's face. To make up for it he touched Remus's arm instead, squeezing his shoulder.
"Yeah. Maybe tomorrow, after I've thought about it, I'll have some questions." He summoned up a grin, and for good measure turned his hair green and purple in stripes, a look that never failed to amuse Remus although he didn't really like the odd colours.
"Oh, Teddy." Remus shook his head, smiling. "All right. Since you're here a day early, I didn't have anything planned for dinner. Shall we go out somewhere?"
"Great," said Teddy with enthusiasm. "Last time I was at Harry and Ginny's, James told me about this restaurant that they'd gone to for Lily's birthday, a Muggle place that served Caribbean food. Could we try that?" He stood and held out his hand to help his father up.
"Do you know where it is?" Remus asked.
"Nah, but it'll be in the directory. I remember the name." Muggle Studies was going to come in handy after all.
The meal was delicious, though the conversation became occasionally awkward. On the one hand, Teddy felt that he should probably tell his father about his own experimenting with other boys. He'd liked it, more than liked it, although he'd also quite enjoyed snogging and more with Victoire. On the other hand, one revelation of queerness in the Lupin family seemed like enough for one day.
He decided soundly against bringing up his own experiences when he saw his father discreetly checking out their waiter's arse.
"Oh my god," he muttered, turning back to his plate and shoving rice into his mouth as quickly as he could. It wasn't as though he could blame his dad--or anyone, really--for checking out the rear on that particular waiter, especially as he'd been doing the same thing himself only a few minutes before, but god, did he really need another reminder of how very much indeed his dad enjoyed the arses of other men?
"Something wrong?" Remus said, and Teddy choked a little on his rice.
"No," he mumbled. "Um. Pass the pepper, please?"
When the waiter dropped their cheque, Teddy could have sworn his father was flirting. But it could very well have been simple politeness. After all, Remus was always the picture of etiquette when they went out to eat--when Teddy was younger, Remus had often had to remind him to put his napkin on his lap or say Please when he wanted the pepper passed to him. So surely he wouldn't so something so base as to flirt with their bloody waiter. No matter how nice his arse was.
Teddy shook his head to rid himself of his--surely mistaken?--notion that his father had any intentions other than simply paying the cheque.
The waiter turned, then, to walk away, and, god dammit, he sodding winked at Teddy. Winked!
That was it. Teddy was thoroughly disgusted with himself. He was seeing gay everywhere. And the wink had somehow landed, sizzling, in a place that was reacting far too much for a public location. Teddy swallowed a groan and made sure to carry his jacket in front of him, rather than wearing it, as they walked out.
Once they were home he excused himself, pleading tiredness, and hurried off to his room to jerk himself off frantically. This was effing ridiculous, this was. He tried hard to keep his mind on one of his more usual fantasies--the newest Beater for the Kestrels was exceptionally hot, and supposedly rode both sides of the broomstick, too--but traitorously, it kept presenting him with images of his father kissing the waiter, and more, and once again Teddy was coming, wishing that someone (not his father, fuck) were doing to him what Remus had done to Sam whoever-he-was that afternoon.
He flopped back on the bed, sticky with the cooling come on his belly and thighs, and sighed. All his experience with other blokes had been at school, and none of them had really known what they were doing except for what they'd learnt by looking at magazines and hearing some very quiet gossip. Which meant that it was mostly snogging and rubbing off and, once or twice, sucking cock... which Teddy had discovered he liked very much indeed, whether he was doing it or having it done to him. But he wanted more. Not just to be actually fucked, although that was something he was curious about, but vague ideas of different positions and toys chased each other 'round his head, too, and he didn't know how he could learn any of that unless...
Unless he asked. And his dad had offered to answer any questions Teddy might have, hadn't he? He'd seemed almost disappointed that Teddy hadn't had any, in fact. So.
Teddy began to consider, very carefully, just how he might go about carrying out the plan that had leaped into his mind full-fledged.
He would have to come up with a question--perhaps a series of questions--that would lead up to his Big Question. A series of questions from which he could bail out at any time, if his dad seemed too suspicious or disgusted with the direction in which the conversation was headed.
Of course, if he did bail out, he'd be up in his room pathetically wanking again, trying hard not to think about his father's tongue up the Kestrels' Beater's arse, but he decided he'd cross that bridge when he reached it.
He sat up and swallowed hard, wiping the come from himself with the sheet, not bothering with a cleaning spell. He threw on pyjamas and peeked into the hallway. His father was nowhere to be seen. All right. He'd have loved to just get the discussion over with (and get on to the good bits, something in the back of his mind chorused), but he'd already begged off further conversation with his father tonight by saying he was tired, and besides, he hadn't yet decided where to begin his questioning.
He slipped into the bathroom and began to clean his teeth, letting the rhythmic swooshes of his toothbrush lure him into a light trance. He stared at himself in the mirror.
"Dad," he said to himself in his head, "I need your help." He pictured Remus at his desk, cardigan buttoned up, reading glasses perched on his nose.
"What is it, Ted?" Remus would ask. He would want to help. He always did. Teddy just hoped he could persuade him to help with this.
"I do have some questions about being queer, after all," Teddy would say.
Remus would lean back and take his glasses off, setting them aside and rubbing at the red mark on the bridge of his nose. There was a scar just there, too, that always showed white even when Remus flushed. Teddy had never really thought about his father's scars; they were simply a part of him, though of course Teddy knew that most had been self-inflicted in the days before the Wolfsbane Potion had been developed. "What do you want to know?"
Teddy shook his head and spat into the basin. If they had this conversation there, in his father's study... no. He would need to find some reason to at least be in the living room, on the sofa, where he could touch Remus easily, accidentally. Maybe he could somehow persuade his father to have a drink, too? Or would that be too obvious?
All right. "Maybe we could talk somewhere more comfortable?" he would ask. "I feel like a kid being called before the Headmistress in here." Which maybe wasn't the best way to put it. He didn't want to imply that his father was effeminate. Fuck. He was going to cock this up completely, he knew it.
It wouldn't do to pretend total ignorance and ask what it was like to kiss a bloke. Sooner or later Teddy might have to admit that he'd done so before, and lying to his father was a bad idea. Should he just confess straight out that he thought maybe he was bent too, that he liked snogging both sexes, and more? Ask how Remus had decided that he was gay--and when, given his relationship with Teddy's mum? And maybe other women before or since? Or other men?
He walked back down the hallway, the boards creaking underfoot.
Teddy spun around. He hadn't even heard his father's bedroom door open. Remus was wearing the new dressing gown Teddy had given him for Christmas the year before to replace the threadbare one he'd had for ages.
"Goodnight, Dad," he said hastily, dragging his eyes away from the vee of exposed skin on Remus's chest, the grey hairs there that suddenly he wanted to rub his cheek against, as he'd done as a child, except to very different purpose.
"See you bright and early for breakfast," Remus called after him. "We'll make pancakes, all right?"
Teddy nodded, not turning around, and mumbled a semblance of an answer, then slipped into his room and closed the door. He leaned against it and closed his eyes. What the hell was wrong with him? Most blokes his age--or any age--didn't go around planning to seduce their fathers.
But then again, he thought, throwing himself across the bed, where was the harm, really? He trusted his father implicitly, and his fumblings in the dormitories and locker rooms at school hadn't really got him anywhere. If anything, he'd been more confused after each of those encounters, when the boy who'd been sucking on his prick had ignored him in the corridor the next day, or the Seeker who'd so eagerly sought after a handjob pretended nothing had ever happened between them--until the next time Hufflepuff lost a match.
He didn't want sex, dammit... okay, he did, but not just sex. Not if that was what happened afterward. There had to be more to it than just physical urges, quickly satisfied against a wall or in a disused classroom.
And the boys at school hadn't really known what they were doing. Teddy sighed as he recalled quick, dry handjobs and hot urgent breath in his ear moaning come on... come on... and fumbling afterward, each boy doing up his own pants and performing his own cleaning spell, trying not to look at the other.
If he'd known about his dad years ago, would he have bothered with those other boys?
He sighed again. Yes. Probably. Even now his gut was twisting at the thought of asking his father to help him, and with those boys there had never been the necessity of question or explanation, just a look or a twist of the head, an accidental touch that wasn't really accidental, the innate knowledge that it could all be laughed off were they ever to be caught.
Maybe he shouldn't over-plan, just let things happen. The worst that his father could say was no, right?
Teddy fell asleep clutching at his pillow and woke up late, startled for a moment to be back in his old bedroom and not in his flat. He could smell bacon, and his stomach growled. He also had a full bladder, but more urgent was his cock, standing to attention as if it would poke a hole right through his pyjamas. He couldn't go to breakfast like that--and whatever he'd been dreaming about, he'd twisted and sweated and now he felt thoroughly grotty. A shower was clearly in order. He'd wash up, have a quick wank while he was at it, and then go eat.
Leaning against the cool tile and watching the last traces of spunk slip down the drain, Teddy decided that this had been a good move. Now he had half a chance of being able to start off the conversation with his father without worrying about a visible and embarrassing erection. The whole thing was going to be embarrassing enough as it was, but he wasn't going to change his mind and back down now, even though he'd be the only one to know.
A tap on the door startled him. "Breakfast's ready--hurry up," came his father's voice.
"Five minutes," Teddy promised, grabbing the shampoo and hastily tipping some into his palm.
It was more like eight minutes, but very soon he was downstairs at the table, an enormous pile of pancakes on his plate.
"These're great, dad," he said somewhat indistinctly through the bite he was chewing.
"More where they came from." Remus had taken only two for himself. "They're not going to hop off the table if you don't eat them all in the first mouthful, you know." The tone was mock-stern, but he smiled. "It's nice to have someone else to cook for again, actually. Rather dull by myself."
That seemed to be as good a lead-in as any Teddy might get, though he hadn't planned to start this conversation over breakfast. "Don't you ever cook for any of your..." Teddy faltered.
"Boyfriends?" Remus supplied, his grin fading a bit.
"Um. Yeah." That maybe wasn't the word Teddy would have chosen, but if it was the one his dad wanted to use, so be it. There were far more important things to consider than terminology at the moment.
Remus gave a little sigh and cut into his pancakes with the edge of his fork. "I don't, no. Not often."
Remus looked up. "I don't often see them at breakfast time, for one thing."
"Oh." Teddy turned back to his plate and picked up a piece of bacon between his fingers, earning himself a sharp look from his father, which he ignored. "What about that Sam bloke? You seemed, er. You two got along pretty well, I thought." He felt himself colour inadvertently, the blush staining down his cheeks, and he promptly turned his skin what he knew was an unattractive shade of tan on him but which would cover up the pink.
Remus chuckled a little, and Teddy could have sworn he was blushing as well. "Er. Yes," he answered. "We do, at that. But he's on the road quite a lot, so we try to keep things... casual."
Teddy was encouraged by his father's forthrightness, and he felt the blush draining from his cheeks and let his skin turn back to its natural shade.
"Do you like that? I mean. You don't have to answer that."
"No, it's fine," Remus replied, and he took a sip of tea. "I--not always. I'd prefer to be in a stable relationship, but for an old man like me, well. Sometimes you have to take what you can get."
"It's no different when you're young." Teddy blurted the words before he could think.
"Meaning?" Remus cocked his head.
"Um. Just that... there's not always a lot of choice, is there? You're always dependent on the other person's situation."
"I suppose it's hard for you with Victoire still in school for another two years. Did the two of you agree to wait, or are you free to see other people in the meantime?" Remus asked in a gentle voice.
"We're not... not exclusive." Teddy fiddled with his fork. "I'm not sure if she's the one I want, really."
"Did you have an argument? That's only natural, you know. If your mum were still alive, you'd have seen that--arguing doesn't mean you don't love each other."
"No, not an argument." Taking a deep breath, Teddy looked up. "Dad, when did you realise you liked boys?"
Remus set down his own fork and gazed at Teddy. "When I was fifteen, or thereabouts. I fell in love with my best friend." The pain that Teddy had seen in him the night before when he'd talked about Sirius was again visible. "But I didn't think he reciprocated the feeling... and I did some pretty foolish things for a while, before we got straightened out."
A giggle escaped Teddy's lips. "Sorry. Just, 'straightened out'. Sounded a bit funny."
"Ah." His father chuckled, though his eyes still held the remnants of his old loss. "Yes, I see. Anyhow. I messed around with a few other boys who didn't really mean anything to me, and a couple of girls, too, before Sirius and I managed to realise that we'd each been waiting for the other to say something."
"You did, really?" asked Teddy, trying not to let his incredulity show. "With a few other boys?" Maybe he hadn't been on the entirely wrong track after all with his fumblings in the dormitories in the middle of the afternoon, sweating and praying that no one would walk in.
Remus nodded. "And girls," he repeated.
"But--you liked the boys better." It wasn't a question. A foolish part of Teddy hoped that saying it would make it somehow true--as if that gave him better odds for the success of his plan.
"I've learned a lot about what I like and what I don't like over the years, Ted. I liked Sirius. I liked your mum." He paused to sip from his teacup.
I like boys, Dad, Teddy could have blurted right then. He opened his mouth to do it, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, he choked a little and breathed hard for a moment, then pushed his plate away and stared at his own tea, which was growing cold.
"Ted." Teddy didn't look up. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Teddy's mouth had gone dry. Something was burning in his chest. His stomach was twisted in a knot, and his palms had gone clammy. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. It was as if the words that had nearly passed his lips were choking him, tormenting him until he set them free.
"You never leave bacon on your plate," Remus pointed out, tapping Teddy's abandoned plate with his own fork.
If he tried to eat, he might spew it up again. Teddy grabbed his cold tea and took a swallow. "I..."
Remus was waiting, his hand still stretched out across the table. Teddy's mind presented him with an image of that hand wrapped around a hard purple cock, stroking it knowingly. He drank again, trying to wet his throat enough to speak.
"I've kissed boys," he managed to say at last. "At school. And, and other stuff. But I can't tell if it's any good or not."
"So you've kissed both girls and boys. And done more with both, it sounds like." Remus didn't sound shocked; well, he wouldn't be, not if he'd done the same. "And now you're confused about what you might like, or not like. Is that what it is?"
Teddy nodded and reached out for the comfort of his father's warm hand, although he couldn't quite look at him yet.
"Well, that sounds perfectly reasonable for your age. I hadn't worked out what suited me best when I was eighteen," Remus said.
"Victoire and I had sex. I used Construere," he added hastily, seeing the beginnings of a frown on his father's face. "And she'd learned something from her mother..."
Remus chuckled softly. "I'm not surprised that Fleur made certain her daughter knew everything necessary at an early age. Did you enjoy yourself? Did she?"
"I think she did. She seemed to, but it's a lot harder to tell with girls," Teddy complained.
"Yes, I always thought so. But girls have other advantages, so I suppose it evens out."
"So it was good with her, but..."
"Better with boys?"
"I don't know." Teddy let his frustration show in his voice. "None of us really knew what we were doing, so I've never, you know. Done it properly. Just hands and such." His face was hot again and he picked up his tea with his free hand, sipping the cold sweet liquid.
"Hands and such," Remus repeated, "What is it, then, that you think 'doing it properly' is?"
Teddy choked on his cold tea, a dozen answers racing through his head. A cock up my arse, please, to start didn't exactly sound like something he could quite say to his dad.
His hand twitched in his father's grasp, and he cleared his throat. "You know. What--what blokes do. With other blokes. With their--" The words were becoming more and more difficult to say, and Teddy shook his head. "What you were doing," he said then, his voice just above a whisper, still not meeting his father's gaze, "You know. Yesterday."
"Ah," Remus said, and there was a long silence. Teddy's palm began to sweat in the warm confines of his father's hand.
"It's just--" Teddy floundered, trying his damnedest to keep the conversation going. "It's just. You seemed to enjoy it. A lot. And so did he. And the boys at school, Dad, they'd never--it was all so, I don't know--impersonal. Rough and--I mean, I liked it. But I didn't--it wasn't quite enough."
Remus nodded and squeezed Teddy's hand. "I understand. Do believe me. I understand probably more than you think I do. I experienced exactly what you're describing."
"Maybe not exactly," Teddy said, and his eyes went wide when he realised he'd actually said that.
"Maybe not," Remus replied, "After all, I didn't have a Victoire. But close enough, I think, to at least sympathise."
Teddy breathed a little more easily. Of course his father hadn't known what he had meant by that.
"And I do sympathise. It's not easy to figure out what or who you really like, especially when there's some pressure to choose one particular direction." Remus looked a little grim. "There's more acceptance now, I think, than when I was your age, but do the boys still call each other 'poofter' and 'fairy' and so on as insults?"
"Yeah." Teddy swallowed. The warmth of his father's hand was reassuring, as was the calm way in which he was talking, but the touch was also starting to cause some inappropriate reactions. He was glad that the table blocked Remus's view. "Some of them, anyhow."
Remus sighed. "There will probably always be some of that. I was lucky, finding Sirius. Most of the boys I fooled around with were just experimenting, the way it sounds you have been. Which is perfectly fine, too--don't be worried that just because you've liked kissing boys that makes you automatically one hundred percent gay. It's good to try out a lot of different things, but you also shouldn't be worried that you haven't figured it out yet. These things take time and practise."
"I'm not worried." And he wasn't. Confused, yes, but he'd have only been worried if he hadn't found anyone at all attractive. "But now that I'm not in school, it's harder to, you know, meet people. So I don't get much chance to practise, as you say."
After a moment, Remus said, "You're old enough to go to the clubs. Wizard or even Muggle. I hear that Charon is the current favourite for wizards." He started to let go of Teddy's hand, but Teddy held on.
"I'm a little nervous of going there alone," he admitted reluctantly. He'd heard of some of the things that went on in Charon's back room, and wasn't sure he was ready for that, not with some stranger. If it were someone else his own age, he probably wouldn't know much more than Teddy, and an older man might be contemptuous of Teddy's inexperience. He licked his lip nervously. "Maybe... you could help me? Show me?"
It seemed to take a moment for Teddy's words to sink in. Remus's hand twitched, then he pulled it away from Teddy's grasp.
"Ted. You don't really mean that."
"Yeah, Dad. I mean it." He swallowed against the sudden obstruction in his throat, and when he spoke again, his voice was little more than a whisper. "Dad, please. I don't trust anyone else." He hazarded a glance at his father, whose face was a mask of confusion and concern.
"Ted, there are plenty of men who--"
"I only trust you, Dad!" Teddy's voice rose, and he shook with frustration. This was not how this conversation should have gone, Remus protesting and all of Teddy's arguments about why it was a perfectly viable idea disintegrating until all he was left with were a shrill voice and a childlike desire to shout and cry.
Remus rose and began to clear away the breakfast dishes. "When you arrived yesterday," he said, not looking at Teddy, "You saw something you shouldn't have seen, weren't expecting to see, and that must have confused you. I don't blame you at all for feeling a little mixed up right now. I'd suggest we spend the day apart, except I think you really need your father right now."
Teddy knitted his eyebrows together and rose. "Yeah," he said, crossing to the sink and putting his trembling arms about his father from behind, "I really do." He rested his cheek for a moment on the soft plaid fabric of Remus's dressing gown, breathing deeply the scent of his father, a scent he'd known for years but which now spoke to him of more than just comfort. He felt Remus's body move in a sigh.
"It's not right, what you're asking of me. You know that."
"Why not?" Teddy's voice was muffled against Remus's back. He'd been half-hard already, but the smell and feel of Remus was making him need in a way that he'd never felt before, not with Victoire, not with any of the boys. "It can't hurt anyone. I'm of age. If I want it, and you want it..." Except maybe Remus didn't. He hadn't really thought of that, had he? He'd assumed that his father would be reluctant because, yeah, this was taboo and everyone knew it, but he'd thought that Remus might secretly have a reciprocal desire. Fuck. He'd arsed it all up. Hot shame scalded him and he let go, stepping away, scrubbing his hand over his eyes fiercely. "You don't want me... I'm an idiot, I'm sorry."
"Teddy, no." The effort that Remus made to turn around and face Teddy was obvious. "I'm... I'm flattered. Truly I am. But you're my son, you're so young..."
"I can't help being young." The words almost jerked themselves out of Teddy's mouth. "That why I need you, to teach me. Please." He hated the way that his voice broke despite his attempts to steady it. "I promise, I'll do whatever you want, if you'll help me with this."
Standing there in the kitchen with its yellow curtains, the breakfast dishes washing themselves in the sink and hopping into the drainer, Teddy had never wanted anything more in his life than to figure out how to persuade his father to agree to his request. At that moment nothing else mattered.
Remus's eyes were unreadable. One arm was wrapped around himself, the other carding through his mostly-grey hair. "You should never offer anything you're not willing to give," he said at last.
"I'm willing," Teddy promised, hope singing in his heart that this meant Remus was going to agree. "I meant it. Anything."
Remus raised his eyebrows for a moment, then sighed. "I'm going to get dressed, and then I'm going to go into my study for a little while. While I'm in there, I want you to finish cleaning up the kitchen. Including cleaning the floor." His voice was measured, and, try as Teddy might, he could discern nothing in it that indicated whether Remus was for or against Teddy's proposition.
Teddy nodded, waiting. He hated mopping the floors more than any other household task, but he had said he'd be willing to do anything, hadn't he? He wasn't sure if this was a test of his father's to see if he'd been serious, or if the kitchen floor really did need to be cleaned, but he didn't want to risk jeopardising his already precarious position by complaining.
"Sure, Dad," he said, but he didn't move from where he stood near the breakfast table. He kept looking at his father, waiting for a sign, a gesture, anything that might let him know what was going through his father's head.
Remus made as if to move past him, then, but turned at the last moment and put his arms around Teddy. Teddy stiffened all over, then returned the embrace.
"I love you very much, son," Remus murmured, close to Teddy's ear, "Remember that." Teddy gave a great shudder that he tried to repress as his father's hot breath caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand up.
Remus let go after a long, tense moment, and moved out of the kitchen and up the stairs, his footsteps weary and slower than usual. Teddy didn't move until he heard his father's bedroom door close at the top of the stairs, then he turned and slumped into the chair his father had so recently occupied.
"God," he groaned, his teeth gritted, "Fucking hell." Had he done and said everything all right? He felt like a complete arse. Maybe that was a good thing. It certainly put him in the right mood for mopping the floor; he might as well do that first, get it over with. The dishes were already clean, and there were just a couple of skillets still to be washed.
Teddy pulled out the mop and bucket and filled the latter with hot water, tipping in a lavish dollop of Mrs Skower's. Cleaning charms didn't work very well when used directly on the floor, at least Teddy's didn't, but a good strong spell on the mop and it would scrub adequately, if a little damply. He would have to go over the floor with something to dry up the puddles afterward.
He directed the mop to clean the spot in front of the sink first, then put down a ragged towel to stand on--he hadn't bothered with slippers and was barefoot--while he washed up the pans. Usually he disliked cleaning of any type, but today it was almost soothing to concentrate on making sure every bit of grease was scrubbed away, the crumbs wiped from the counter, until the kitchen was as sparkling as he could make it. If this was some sort of test, he was determined to pass it.
When everything was clean and the last drops of water gone from the floor, he rinsed out the mop and sent it and the bucket clattering back into their cupboard, wiped down the sink and hung the dishcloth neatly over the tap, then took a deep breath and went to knock at Remus's study door.
"Dad? I've finished."
"Come in." His father's tone was no different from any other time that Teddy had knocked and disturbed him in the middle of reading something, calm with just a hint of impatient resignation. He looked the same, too, just as Teddy had imagined when he was thinking about this the night before, with his favourite olive cardigan on--the one with the mend on the shoulder where he'd caught it against a nail while hanging a picture--and his reading glasses catching the light as he looked across the desk at Teddy.
On the side of the room nearest the door were a pair of well-worn overstuffed chairs, older than Teddy himself as his grandparents had given them to his parents as a wedding gift. Teddy had often curled up in one of them to read or draw while his father was working. Today he dragged it closer to the desk, turning it so that he'd face his father, and sat with his bare feet tucked under him, waiting for Remus to continue.
"Well," Remus said, and he took off his reading glasses and rubbed the red mark on the bridge of his nose, just next to the white scar that skimmed across the top of it. Teddy's stomach did somersaults as Remus set the glasses on his desk blotter, but he tried his damnedest not to let his nervousness show. He bit the inside of his bottom lip and waited, wriggling his toes.
"Let's discuss this, shall we?" asked Remus. He sat up a little straighter in his chair.
"Man-to-man?" Teddy replied, hardly daring to hope.
"I think we should begin with father-to-son, Ted."
"And then move on from there." His father had always said he'd inherited his mother's streak of stubbornness. Teddy set his jaw and wriggled his toes again, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest, hoping he hadn't pushed too far.
"The father-to-son discussion will be brief," Remus said, apparently ignoring Teddy's tactical move. "There is no reason you shouldn't be able to explore your sexuality on your own. I managed it and so did hundreds, thousands of other wizards before me. Making mistakes is all a part of the process."
Teddy groaned inwardly. Is that what his father thought this was? A mistake? If he could only know what Teddy knew, feel the need that kept welling up inside him, then surely he'd understand, wouldn't he?
"However," Remus continued, and Teddy's heart leapt into his throat.
"However," Remus continued, nodding, "you are my son, and I would sooner see myself dead than have any harm come to you. The world has changed a lot since I was young. I was lucky--I found Sirius at school, as safe a place as any, but you've got the entire Wizarding and Muggle worlds to explore, and I would be lying if I said I haven't been sitting in here worrying about what could happen to you out there."
Teddy nodded, not daring to interrupt.
Remus leaned forward, folding his hands together. "What you've asked of me is wrong, by society's standards, Ted. Very wrong indeed. I know that you already know that." There was a long pause. "Society's standards have not done well by me in many ways. As a werewolf, I have been subject to ostracism, even legal restrictions; I had to fight to retain custody of you after your mother died."
"You did?" Teddy couldn't help interjecting. He'd never heard that before.
"I did," Remus confirmed. "Your grandmother Andromeda very nearly raised you. It wasn't her doing, mind, it was some busybody who started a petition to the Ministry, claiming that a werewolf couldn't be trusted with a child. As if I hadn't made arrangements for you to be cared for at every full moon, usually by Andromeda. Well. I won, eventually, with a good deal of help from Hermione Granger and some others, but it wasn't easy. In any case, the point is that what laws say and what society says may not always be what is best for the people involved."
Did that mean...?
"I would never risk harm coming to you." Remus's jaw was clenched. "But you've persuaded me that perhaps it would be a greater harm to deny you, to send you out untaught. Nothing might happen... but then, it might. I want you to have the knowledge you need to make wise choices, in the end, and whether you finally conclude you prefer men or women.
"So I have decided to teach you, but with certain conditions." He ticked them off on his fingers. "First and foremost, you will not tell anyone--anyone!--about this. Ever. Under any circumstances."
He looked at Teddy as if waiting for him to object, but Teddy merely nodded. He'd expected that much.
"Second, and as part of that, you will behave toward me at all times in public as you always have. I am your father, and I will be your tutor in these matters, but I cannot be your lover. No calf eyes, none of that sort of thing. Third, you'll continue to live in your own flat, work at the apothecary shop, socialise with your friends. You will only come here for my teaching at agreed-upon times; no popping in unexpectedly. Send an owl or Floo-call first."
Teddy was sure that that provision was due to last night.
"Fourth." Remus stopped to take a breath. "Fourth, I will set you lessons. You will follow my instructions in these lessons completely, or they will end."
Teddy nodded, trying to keep the nod from becoming frantic. He had said he'd do anything, and he had meant it. And these provisions really weren't so bad. Of course they couldn't be lovers publicly--or at all, Teddy reminded himself, he said he would teach you and that's all. Teddy hadn't exactly thought about his father in terms of a lover, had only desired him, craved him on a base, physical level. And he was to have that, at least!
"Are these provisions clear?" Remus asked. "Have you any questions on any of my requirements?"
"Absolutely clear, Dad," Teddy responded. He thought for a moment. "I guess I have got one question, though."
"What's that?" Remus asked. He picked up a quill from the edge of his blotter and twirled it between his fingertips, then set it down again.
"Well," Teddy said, and he blew out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and met his father's eyes. "When can we start our lessons?"
Remus nearly smiled, cocking his head to the side. "I should have known you'd be eager," he said. "I'll want to draw up a schedule before we begin. Can you wait until tomorrow?"
Teddy's heart leapt, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants. Tomorrow! Tomorrow was so soon--and to think, just an hour ago he'd been despairing that this would ever happen.
"I--yes," Teddy replied. The pleasant, pulsating ache in his groin insisted that it couldn't wait until then, but he ignored it. "Yes, I can wait until then." There was no use demanding that they start now, that Remus bend Teddy over the sofa and do what he'd been doing to whatever that man's name was--Sam, right, that was it--and Teddy ground the heel of his hand into his crotch to stop the erection that was growing faster than he could comprehend.
"Dad," he said then, smiling, "I know it's not exactly the same thing, but Harry always says you were his favourite professor at Hogwarts, and the very best besides."
At this Remus did smile, creases appearing at the corners of his eyes. "Did he?"
"Yeah. And, like I said, I know it's not the same, but--well, I'm looking forward to it. And not just for the--um, the physical parts." It wasn't quite a lie, but Teddy knew he was exaggerating just a little.
"I'm glad," his father said. "It's been a long time since I've taught anything to anyone." His smile turned slightly mischievous. "The last time might have been teaching you, in fact--to use the toilet."
"Dad!" That was enough to wilt Teddy's erection immediately. Well, nearly enough. He'd be able to walk out of the room unhumiliated, anyhow.
Remus laughed. "Actually, I think it was teaching you to tie your shoes."
"Humph," Teddy grumbled, although he was secretly relieved to have their discussion take a lighter turn, embarrassing though it might be. "You didn't really need to say that."
"All right, Ted, go on with you now. Weren't you supposed to visit your godfather for tea this afternoon?"
Teddy nodded, uncurling himself and standing up. "I said I'd go over at about one, play with the kids first. They all like to see me morph my face." He hesitated, then went around behind the desk to give his father a one-armed hug, and said softly, "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Remus had picked up the quill again and pulled a piece of parchment towards himself. "I'll be thinking about your lessons while you're away. I won't expect you back until seven, for dinner--I've a roast to cook, so please be on time or it'll dry out."
"I will," Teddy promised. He glanced back at his father as he left the room, seeing his head bent a little, quill already scratching at the parchment. It was only twelve-fifteen, and he would take the Floo to Harry's... plenty of time for a quick wank, if he wanted one. And he did, a shiver running through him at the thought that tomorrow he'd be having sex, real sex, with someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Well, maybe; his father hadn't said what the first lesson would be about. But whatever it was, Teddy was sure it would be good.
Teddy headed up the stairs, trying to keep his pace unhurried. He told himself he was just going to put on some shoes before he headed to Harry's, but he knew what he'd end up doing once he arrived at his bedroom.
He closed the door behind himself and leaned against it for a moment, drawing in a long breath and then letting it out slowly as a smile spread across his face.
"He said yes," he whispered to himself. He still couldn't quite believe it. He ran a hand down the front of his jeans and cupped his thickening cock, massaging it through the fabric until the pressure became almost too much to bear.
"He said yes," Teddy repeated as he eased down his jeans and his pants and tugged off his shirt, spreading himself across the bed. He swiped a thumb across the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive skin there, and scraped the fingernails of the other hand lightly across his balls, shivering as he did so.
There was no need to hurry, no worries about anyone hearing--hell, his father probably guessed exactly what he was doing at that moment. Teddy basked in his newfound freedom, wanking himself slowly and grinning all the while. He brought the hand that was teasing his balls up to his mouth and sucked on a finger, then teased the finger across his arsehole, pressing almost inside, but not quite. He knew it was supposed to feel incredible, but he'd never quite worked up the courage to actually fuck himself with his own fingers whilst wanking. And now hardly seemed an appropriate time to start. His father would take care of that--and so much more.
He continued teasing his wet finger across his eager pucker, jerking himself a little faster as precome began to seep from the head of his cock. He smeared the fluid down his shaft, imagining that the finger teasing him was not his own, but one of his father's long, pale fingers with its neatly rounded nail.
And that was when he lost it, imagining his father opening him with a whispered spell and a wetted finger. He came in spurts all over his belly, arching up and giving a great wordless moan.
He collapsed against his pillows, panting, his chest heaving, his eyes closed.
Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.