|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2008-08-11 11:22:00
|Entry tags:||coauthor: emiime, hp fic better the instruction, hp fic remus, hp fic remus/sam|
HP fic: Better the Instruction (2/22) [Remus, Remus/Sam, adult]
Title: Better the Instruction (2/22)
Authors: celandineb and emiime
Chapter pairings: Remus solo, Remus/Sam; references to Remus/Sirius, Teddy/other boys.
Chapter rating: NC17
Chapter length: ~8200 words
Warnings: Wanking, incestuous fantasies, rimming, plugs, anal sex.
Summary: Remus makes a list (and checks it twice) and Sam and Teddy are more formally introduced.
Note: AU (Remus survived the war). See here for complete story header with all pairings/warnings. Also posted here.
Remus sighed as the door closed behind his son. He couldn't quite believe he had agreed to this insane idea of Teddy's. At least he had had the sense to establish some reasonable conditions, but now he had to come up with a programme of lessons to teach Teddy some of the finer points of gay sex.
He pulled the parchment toward him and doodled on it. When he'd been teaching at Hogwarts, he'd always been more comfortable with the practical side of things, rather than the more academic parts, but he supposed he should ensure that Teddy do some research on his own rather than simply buggering him. Remus's lips twisted in a wry smile. Much as he might enjoy that, the whole point was that Teddy should learn in a gentle fashion. And Remus was still more than a little uncomfortable with the entire idea. He had better start off slowly, give Teddy a chance to change his mind.
"1," he scribbled. "Touch."
He tapped the quill against his chin for a moment. Of course Teddy had been touched, and had touched himself, but Remus remembered being a teenager, and how there was only one general area that mattered when touch was the issue. He was nearly certain that Teddy hadn't taken the time--and nor had any of the other boys who might have touched Teddy--to explore his body, finding titillating and sensitive spots that he hadn't known existed.
"Hands, mouth," Remus wrote on the parchment below his heading. Sirius had had a way of dragging his wetted lips over Remus's skin, not quite kissing, that had always driven him mad. Remus licked his own lips, remembering, then gave a small sigh and carried on.
"Ears," he wrote, "neck, throat, nipples, arms, fingers, belly, hips, thighs, legs, toes." He gave a little shiver when he came to the end of his list. Teddy probably wouldn't find touches and kisses in all those places arousing, but--did he dare admit it to himself, even just in his head? Remus was going to enjoy finding out.
It was a mad idea, it was, but Remus would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't looking forward to it just a little. All right--more than a little.
It had been so long since Sirius, so long since he'd had the opportunity to touch and kiss in new places a body that had never before known such touches and kisses. And Teddy would be a willing--no, eager--student.
There were other aspects to touch, too, that Remus could demonstrate. The difference between the slow drag of a fingertip and the scratch of a nail. The tickling dance of a feather drifting across a patch of skin usually ignored, or the whisper-slide of silk, or the butteriness of well-worn leather--god, Teddy in leather, no don't think about it now.
He jotted down a few ideas for items he might use, then passed on to the next lesson. "2. Hands." That seemed a reasonable follow-up to the first, and again, something that Teddy had experienced already, by himself and doubtless with his partners, whether boys or girls. Remus could assign homework for this one... perhaps something for Teddy to do alone that would take his lessons in touch and start applying them, and also some research? There were a number of illustrated volumes and back issues of certain magazines in Remus's locked bookcase. He would have Teddy look at some of those for the techniques shown, and then they could have a practical lesson.
Hands were a good second step, yes. Teddy seemed to think that it wasn't "real" sex, but he was wrong. Remus shivered a little, remembering not Sirius, this time, but Allan, who'd been a Chaser for the Kestrels and who had given Remus six winter months of his very talented hands, some five--no, six--years ago now. Oh yes. Hands. The subtleties of varying pressure in a stroke, from firm to gentle or the reverse; or a twist at an unexpected moment; or the ancillary touches to thighs and bollocks, teasing, dragging out the encounter so that it could reach its fullest heights. All in conjunction with the touches from the first lesson.
Remus swallowed. "3. Mouth. Kisses, from the lips down to the cock, and blowjobs." He rather thought that would be enough for one lesson. If Teddy exhibited the normal tendencies of a teenaged boy, he'd climax quickly when Remus sucked him off... but that was no problem. He would need to learn to reciprocate, after all. Another good possibility for homework, sucking would be. Sirius had practised on courgettes, he once confided to Remus, and Teddy could do the same.
He wondered if Teddy's experience with "hands and such" had extended to blowjobs. A picture of Teddy grasping at the hair of some anonymous boy floated unbidden into his head, and he closed his eyes for a moment, and then the picture changed: Teddy on his knees in the dormitory--no, in the Quidditch showers, yes, water coursing around him, his throat working to swallow a load of come, a little seeping out the corners of his mouth...
Remus opened his eyes and adjusted his position, straightening his back and pressing his thighs together. This would not do. He could not become aroused at fantasies of his own son sucking cock at school, no matter how tempting those fantasies might be. He'd agreed to teach Teddy, not to use him for personal pleasure--and the teaching was taboo enough.
He forced himself to concentrate on the parchment before him as if it were a balance sheet or a shopping list, something far more innocuous than the list that he was going to have to charm to look like something else once he finished. He couldn't very well risk someone--Harry, Sam, another guest--asking to borrow a quill, then looking in Remus's desk and discovering an instruction manual on How to Defile One's Teenaged Son.
"4. Penetration," Remus wrote, his hand shaking a little as he crossed the Ts and dotted the I. He paused to consider, then scratched out the entry.
"4. Rimming." There, that was better, a more logical next step--from a certain perspective, at any rate. He thought that Teddy probably had little to no experience with penetration, given his declaration that he'd never "done it properly". And a thorough rimjob was the best place to start, exploring Teddy's virgin arse slowly, gently, teasing him with flicks of the tongue all around his pink pucker and then inside, opening him, relaxing him.
Remus shuddered, flashing back on the night before, when Teddy had seen him with his tongue up Sam's arse. Their eyes had locked, and Teddy had just stood stock-still for a moment before rushing from the room. The interruption had effectively put an end to any further exploration of Sam's arse, and Remus had been annoyed, as it was one of his favourite activities.
He and Sirius had learned it together, after seeing it in one of the magazines that Sirius acquired by some ever-mysterious method, but Remus had never worried too much about that. Remus suspected that as Padfoot, Sirius had grown more used to pungent smells than most people, and found the limited sense of humans frustrating. Certainly unlike Remus, Sirius didn't always bother with cleaning charms (although Remus wouldn't kiss him afterward, if he hadn't used one).
Rimming might not be a skill he'd require Teddy to master, not yet, not unless Teddy showed interest in doing so, but he could introduce the boy to the delights of receiving it, accustom him to the idea that it was at least one possibility for his sexual repertoire. He would be sure to teach him the appropriate charm for cleanliness, too. Remus noted that down as a subheading.
On to lesson five. If Teddy was a virgin, or nearly so, in penetration, Remus decided, then he had best take matters slowly. "5. Toys. Plugs, clamps, blindfolds, bindings." A plug was the very thing to start him off with, get him used to the feeling of fullness there, without being self-conscious about dirtiness--though the rimming lesson should have quieted that anxiety--and although Remus might not use additional toys on his son, he would discuss the possibilities with Teddy, show him his own collection, perhaps demonstrate a few.
Mentally he rummaged through the plugs he already owned. He would want to purchase one or two, in smaller sizes. Or perhaps it would be better to gift Teddy with a new set of his own, three or more ranging from perhaps half an inch on up? Remus suppressed a groan, thinking of how it would be to watch Teddy's arse embrace each plug in turn. A set, then, and he should buy some good lubricant to go with them, so that Teddy could practise on his own, afterward, preparing himself for the final lesson.
"6. Penetration." Once Teddy had been breached by tongue and by toys, it would be time.
"Time to do it properly," Remus murmured to himself, echoing Teddy's words from that morning. He wrote nothing further on the page--if he hadn't learned enough about Teddy to let instinct take over once they reached the sixth and final lesson, then he would have failed him as a teacher. And he already knew what he would do. The scene had been building in the back of his mind as he had been compiling his lesson plans.
He would stretch Teddy, fully nude, across the bed, the room lit by candles and draped in shadows. He would gaze down at his son, savouring the play of the flickering candlelight across his young, taut skin, his flat belly, the peaks of his jutting hipbones. He wondered for a moment about the colour of his son's pubic hair--could he change that at will, like he could the hair on his head? Remus supposed he could--after all, Tonks had been able to, so there was no reason why Teddy's shouldn't be cerulean or cobalt or chartreuse.
But Remus imagined a sedate dark brown, Teddy's erection nestled in the centre, jutting out proudly. He would undress, then, and lie next to his son, moving through the lessons Teddy had already learned and mastered, touching him all over with hands and mouth, kissing him, tasting him, knowing him, working his way from Teddy's lips down to his insistent cock and dampening his own lips with the precome that welled up from the head.
He would tease Teddy's hole with his fingertips, then push the boy's legs apart and administer kisses up the insides of his thighs and lave his tongue over the crease between thigh and groin, causing Teddy to squirm with anticipation. When he reached Teddy's hole, clean and pink and awaiting penetration, he would press kisses there as well, teasing the pucker with the very tip of his tongue until Teddy relaxed enough to let him in, preparing the way for Remus's cock.
It would all be so natural. Remus shifted in his seat and wetted his lips, forcing himself to stop imagining the scene in such detail. The candle-lit bedroom faded from his mind's eye as he drifted back to reality and stared at his parchment. He nodded to himself and cupped his half-hard cock in his hand, checking the clock on the wall. It was early yet--he certainly had time for a wank--but should he?
Perhaps not, but "should" was scarcely an operative word for Remus, not now, not with what he was planning. He'd been interrupted last night with Sam, and Teddy had teased him this morning--not deliberately, perhaps, although Remus had his doubts about that, but the result was the same. The lessons wouldn't begin until tomorrow.
But he wasn't going to wank in his desk chair, not when he could do it more comfortably on his bed... or perhaps in the shower. Remus thought briefly about adding locations to his lesson plan. Later, perhaps. No one was checking up on him, and he could revise it as seemed necessary. Right now, he headed to the bath, with a brief detour to his bedroom first.
The plug sank into him smoothly, making Remus groan as he braced one arm against the tiled wall, leaning his forehead on it. A spell started it moving. The rhythm was one that suited him, but still, the very predictability of it was less satisfying than having an actual prick inside him. Teddy's prick. He imagined it, briefly, then banished the image from his mind. Teddy would never be his lover; Remus didn't want that, really. A young body was all very well in bed, for a while, but for anything permanent, anything real, Remus knew he wanted a man his own age, more or less. He moved his hand slowly over his own cock, rubbing his thumb along the ridge of the biggest vein, sliding the foreskin up and down.
Warm water trickled over his skin, the caress of an absent companion. Remus straddled his legs wider, letting the plug thrust a little deeper. He regretted not having chosen a larger one, but this would do, if he nudged it to a better angle... ah, there, yes. He whimpered a little, panting as it pressed against his prostate, sending lovely warm messages of encouragement to his cock.
Remus shifted his grip, tightening it, stroking longer, harder, faster, a pounding beat the same as that of the plug moving in his arse. He conjured up Sirius's face, as he so often did on these occasions, ignoring the loneliness it provoked and concentrating on his memory of the way that Sirius had loved him, had shown that love in the way he made love to Remus.
He was close, so close.
And that was when he heard the bathroom door creak open.
Remus's eyes went wide and his heart began to race. He stood up straight and whipped the shower curtain open just enough to expose his head and upper torso and nearly fainted with relief when he saw who it was. He sighed out a shuddering breath, reaching around himself to ease the still-moving plug from his arse and drop it on the shower floor.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his shoulders sagging a little as his breathing returned to normal.
Sam lounged in the bathroom doorway, his hands in his pockets, a grin spreading over his face. "Thought I'd see if you were home," he replied, "The front door was unlocked. I called out, but no one answered, and then I heard the shower and I thought I'd sneak up here and surprise you. I just hoped it wasn't the kid."
Remus closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, Teddy's out for the day." He clutched the shower curtain to him--no matter how intimate he and Sam were, it was still embarrassing to have been caught--nearly caught--wanking in the shower. Thank god he hadn't been moaning anything--any names--had he?
"Good," Sam said, toeing off his shoes and stepping closer, "Because I want to be able to finish what we started last night." He undid his trousers and pushed them down, then shucked his shirt and vest and peeled off his socks and his pants, leaving everything in a heap on the floor by the shower.
"Mind if I join you?"
Remus cast a glance downwards at the red rubber plug that had rolled towards the drain.
"Er..." Quickly he grabbed the facecloth that hung on a hook by the taps and dropped it over the incriminating object, whispering "Finite incantatem" as he did. "No, not at all."
As Sam stepped in, Remus bent over and picked up facecloth and plug together, bundling them so that no red was visible and shoving them behind the bottle of shampoo. He'd never known Sam to use a facecloth, so he hoped that would be safe enough.
Sam stroked over Remus's bum. "So your boy won't be home for a while?"
"He's at his godfather's, staying for tea." Remus couldn't hide that he'd already had an erection, so he made the best of it, rubbing enthusiastically against Sam's thigh as he put his arms around him. "Won't be back till six or seven. We've plenty of time."
"I'm glad," Sam said against Remus's skin. "Because you really left me in a state last night, I can tell you."
"Me, too." Remus slid his hands down Sam's back, slipping a finger into the crease between his cheeks. "As I recall, we were about... here?" He licked a stripe over Sam's mouth just as he touched the tight opening.
"Here, then," said Remus, pulling Sam back a little so that Remus would not be in the direct spray of the shower. "Turn around."
It wouldn't be comfortable to kneel for long on the hard enamel, but sinking down, Remus thought he could manage.
"Don't you want something under your knees? Here, use this," said Sam.
He reached towards the facecloth, but Remus said hastily, "No, I'm fine. Honestly. If I need anything, a Cushioning Charm will be better anyhow." He spread Sam open, murmured his favourite cleaning spell, and leaned in to taste again the dish that had been denied him the night before.
"Ohhhh, fuck," Sam moaned as Remus opened him with his tongue, teasing around his entrance and then pressing inside. Remus reached through Sam's legs and began to caress his bollocks, his fingers colliding with Sam's as Sam pumped his cock slowly, no doubt squeezing hard on the downstroke as he so loved to do and to have done to him.
Remus shifted, his knees already beginning to ache, and he buried his face further between Sam's arsecheeks, curling his tongue in and out of Sam's relaxed hole, and bringing the hand that wasn't teasing Sam's bollocks down to caress his own insistent erection. He applied light touches to himself--he certainly didn't want to come already, though he could if he wasn't careful. He had worked himself into such a state with the plug and the steamy water and thoughts of Teddy that he still quivered on the edge of orgasm.
"Fuck," Sam moaned again, "'S brilliant." He opened his legs wider, slipping just a little on the wet enamel of the tub, and Remus grabbed his ankle, steadying him, and took his mouth away from Sam's hole.
He stood, embracing Sam under the spray. "Perhaps we should continue this in the bedroom?"
Sam grinned. "Brilliant," he murmured, nipping at Remus's ear.
"Get yourself dry and I'll meet you in there, then," Remus ordered, slapping Sam's arse. Sam laughed and exited the shower, and Remus took up the facecloth with his plug inside and waited until he heard Sam leave the bathroom. He rinsed off quickly and shut off the taps, then threw a towel around his waist and looked around for someplace to hide the plug for the time being--he could hardly carry it into the bedroom with him and put it away where it belonged. He opened the cupboard below the sink and tossed it, still wrapped in the facecloth, into the back, behind the extra toilet rolls. That would do for now.
Thankfully the pause had allowed Remus to cool down a bit, and he no longer felt as if he wouldn't be able to last long enough for Sam, who had thrown back the bedclothes and was sprawled out, waiting.
"Up or down?" he asked with a wink.
"Down," said Remus, and so Sam remained on his back, but he drew up his knees and held them to allow Remus access to his arsehole once again.
Remus fumbled in the bedside drawer for another bottle of lube and pulled it out, ready. He crawled up onto the bed and whispered in Sam's ear, "I'm going to lick you wide open and then fuck you, and after that I'll ride you till you come."
"Fuck yeah," Sam agreed.
His hole twitched as Remus blew over it, then ran his tongue just around the edge, licking gently, coaxing the muscle to relax. He heard Sam groan, felt the movement as Sam rubbed his own prick, pushed it down so that the tip touched Remus's head, then let it spring up again. Remus pointed his tongue and speared inward, using it like a tiny cock and fucking into Sam, who rocked to meet him. After a few minutes his tongue felt a little sore from being held so still, and he changed tactics, letting it soften and curl and glide along the hot channel, tasting the very essence of Sam.
When Remus had finally had enough and his jaw began to tire, he tipped a dollop of lubricant onto his fingers and slipped three inside. Sam was so wide open that all Remus needed to do was ensure that there would be no uncomfortable friction. He wiped the last of it on his own cock and lifted himself, positioning the head of his prick at Sam's entrance and letting himself sink in slowly and steadily, smiling down at Sam as he did.
Oh, but this was better than the wank he'd had planned. He couldn't blame Teddy, could he, for wanting to learn something better, something more, when Remus enjoyed it so much himself?
He stayed still for a moment when he was balls-deep inside Sam, closing his eyes and savouring the tight heat all around his cock. He opened his eyes again, then, and grinned down at Sam.
"Been ready since last night," Sam replied, his voice husky, his eyes half-lidded. He reached out to Remus and gripped his hips so tightly that Remus was almost certain there would be bruises there later. He didn't mind--his body was so riddled with scars anyway that a few fingerprint-sized bruises hardly mattered, especially when they served as a reminder of a thoroughly pleasurable experience.
It was a slow fuck, slow and hard and perfect, the grip of Sam's arse matching that of his hands, and Remus found the angle that made Sam make all sorts of noises that didn't sound as if they could come from a throat that was only human. The sweat broke out on Remus's chest as he thrust, dripping down salty along the jut of his hips, to Sam's fingers, and creeping to the base of his cock where it stung just enough to make Remus fall apart at last, coming with a howl and his head thrown back, triumphant.
"Now," he said through a throat dry with his need to be filled in turn, pulling out of Sam and grabbing the bottle of lube again, slicking himself and shoving two fingers inside hastily before he wriggled up to spread his thighs over Sam's hips.
"You don't want more..."
Whether Sam was going to say "time" or "prep" or whatever it might have been, Remus cut him off, bending to press their lips together, reaching behind himself to guide Sam's cock, ignoring the stretchy burn and sighing in relief when his arsecheeks touched Sam's skin and he knew Sam was fully sheathed in him. He rode Sam as he'd promised, rocking, pushing himself to take every centimetre as deeply as possible--he loved that feel of union, two bodies joined as completely as they could be.
Sam shouted as he came, a little sooner than Remus might have wished but then, he'd had Remus's best efforts first, so no wonder. Remus raised himself up with a slight wince for the effort and stretched out beside Sam, sweat-slick and happy. He hadn't thought of Teddy at all, during, but now he did, because Sam asked, "Should I go before your son comes back?"
Remus had a sudden vision of Teddy watching them last night, of him appearing in the doorway now and seeing them satiated this way, of Teddy getting hard by watching his father fuck another man.
"No," he said roughly. He wasn't Teddy's to be jealous of; now that Teddy knew about Remus, there was no reason to hide anything. "Unless you want to, or have somewhere you need to be. I've a roast to cook for dinner, and there's plenty for three."
"I haven't got anywhere better to be," Sam murmured, rolling over and slinging a lazy arm across Remus's torso. "And, you know, I think I'd like to meet this son of yours. Properly, that is--with my trousers on this time." He gave a chuckle and Remus laughed, too, though a little cautiously.
"Sam," he said, shifting his position and arranging Sam's arm more comfortably over his waist, "Teddy's had a rough couple of days. He found out his dad was an old poof--by seeing me with my tongue up your arse, no less, and before you ask, yes, he will know it was you. I explained our, ah, relationship to him."
"So you want me to take it easy on the kid?"
"Would you, please?"
"No prancing about and telling him how darling he is, or how well his trousers make his sweet little arse look?" Sam smirked and Remus smacked him on the arm.
"That would be a start, yes, thank you." Remus shifted away from Sam--he didn't need to be reminded of his son's "sweet little arse" at the moment, because that only brought to mind the things he'd be doing to that arse soon.
"I'll be good, I promise," Sam purred, catching Remus around the waist and pulling him close again. Remus sighed and rested in Sam's embrace, content for the moment but worrying about dinner, despite Sam's promise.
"Just one thing," Sam said then, against Remus's still-damp hair. "Does he, er--I don't mean to sound like a pompous rock star here, but does he know who I am?"
"He knows you as Sam," Remus replied, "That's all. It's up to you whether you tell him the rest, though truth be told I don't think that the name Stubby Boardman means anything to him. No offence. He's more into modern music. I have no idea what the bands are called. All I know is that they're all exceedingly loud and I can't tell one from the next, but he seems to like them."
Sam smiled. "No, that's fine," he said, "I mean, I've been mostly out of the public eye for what, thirty-five years now? And I'll be damned if I don't still get recognised when I'm in the market just trying to buy a chicken for dinner. I much prefer being just plain Sam."
"How did you get the name Stubby, anyhow?" Remus had meant to ask that for a long time. "Were you short as a kid?"
"Uh-uh." Sam wriggled his pelvis against Remus. "Got it because I'm not stubby where it counts, you know. M'best friend in school was really talented at magic, and we called him 'Squibby'; I was ace between the sheets, so I was 'Stubby.'"
Remus laughed at that. "I see. I always wondered."
"Was a good stage name, too, when I started singing," said Sam. "Not that I pulled a lot of birds, once I figured out they weren't what I wanted, but the name brought them flocking, and that was good for sales and all."
"I suppose it was." Remus remembered well when "Stubby Boardman" was a household name, and he himself had had a bit of a crush on the glamorous singer. He much preferred knowing the real man, who taught music to a handful of students but spent most of his time working for several wizarding charities, since he'd made some surprisingly good investments with what he'd earned while with the Hobgoblins.
They stayed comfortably curled up in bed together for a while longer, before Remus had to get up and start cooking the roast. Sam sat in the kitchen with him--Remus was pleased to see that Teddy had, in fact, done a very good job with cleaning it--and read the Prophet while Remus peeled potatoes and got the sprouts ready.
"Hey Dad, the Potters got a Kneazle kitten, you have to see it sometime!" Teddy crashed the kitchen door open and then stood open-mouthed. "Um. Hi?"
"Ted, this is my friend Sam," said Remus from the sink.
Sam stood up and reached out his hand to Teddy, whose face had turned beet red.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Ted," Sam said, "Your father's told me quite a lot about you."
Remus smiled to himself. Sam really was taking this being good thing seriously. Remus caressed his shoulder as he crossed to the cupboards lining the opposite wall, earning a smile from Sam and a stare from Teddy as he returned with a platter for the roast, which he set on the counter.
"What, um--" said Teddy then, letting go of Sam's hand, "Why are you here? I mean--sorry. That was rude."
"Not at all," said Sam with a chuckle, settling down with the paper again. "I didn't get to meet you properly last night, and so I thought I'd come over and do so this afternoon. But you weren't home, and so your father kindly suggested I join the two of you for dinner. I hope you don't mind--I'm quite looking forward to this roast."
At the mention of last night, Remus's gaze automatically flicked to Teddy. The boy's cheeks had faded from red to pink, but his blush flared up again, no doubt with memories of what exactly "last night" had entailed. Teddy just stared at Sam for a moment. His hair turned from sky blue to a very dark brown, nearly black, and he knitted his eyebrows together.
"Very cool," Sam said appreciatively, turning a page in the Prophet. Remus took forks and knives from the silverware drawer and held them out towards Teddy, who was still standing where he had landed when he entered the kitchen, staring, chewing his bottom lip as if trying to decide what to say.
"Here you go, Ted," Remus said as Teddy took the silverware. "Plates and napkins, too, please, and water glasses. And wine glasses," he added after a short pause.
This got Teddy to move. "Why're we having wine?"
"Because Sam's offered to go pick some up," Remus said, earning himself a look from Sam that clearly said When did I say that? "And because this is a bit of a special occasion. So wine glasses, please."
Sam rose from the table, setting the paper down, and moved close to Remus. "There's a shop just down the road," Remus said, "You should be able to find something decent there." He shoved a little money into Sam's hand, but Sam stuck it back in Remus's pocket and dropped a quick, light kiss on his cheek.
"I'll be right back," he promised.
Once Remus had heard the front door shut behind Sam, he turned to Teddy. "Plates in the cupboard," he said.
"Yeah, okay." Teddy had finished putting out the cutlery and glasses. Rather pointedly he folded up the newspaper and set it to one side before he brought the plates. Once done, he flung himself into a chair and watched Remus start a saucepan of water boiling for the vegetables.
"Yes?" Remus leaned against the counter and looked at his son. Teddy's hair was magenta, now, a darker shade of the pink that his mother had always favoured.
"Did you..." Teddy paused, visibly changing his mind about what he was going to say. "Um. You're still giving me those lessons, right?"
"I said that I would," Remus reminded him. "I worked out how they'll progress before Sam came over, and I'll talk with you about the first one tomorrow. Remember that you're not to discuss them with anyone, though."
"I know. I won't," said Teddy, sounding indignant. "Tomorrow? Does that mean that Sam is staying overnight?"
"He might. We hadn't really discussed it." Remus cocked his head. Teddy was chewing on the corner of his lip. "Does that bother you?"
Teddy hesitated, then nodded. "I know it shouldn't... and it's not because he's a bloke, honestly it's not."
"I didn't think it was." Remus smiled slightly. "Just that you're not used to thinking of me that way, I expect." Or was he? Given his request? Remus could feel his face beginning to grow a little warm at that possibility, and he turned to put the sprouts in the pan.
"Not until recently, I guess," Teddy responded. "I just..." He trailed off, and Remus turned around again, satisfied that any hint of pink in his cheeks could be explained away by the fact that he had been bending over a steaming pan.
"You just what?" He's jealous, a little voice in the back of his head sing-songed. Your son is jealous of your lover. Remus shook his head to shut the voice up and rubbed the back of his neck. "You just what?" he repeated.
Teddy seemed to consider the question for a moment, looking down at his hands, then he shook his head. "Nothing. I mean, as long as our deal is still on, then there's no problem. Right?" It was almost as if his question was meant for himself and not for Remus, so Remus didn't answer, just regarded his son for a long moment.
"Right," Teddy answered himself, shrugging.
"Come here," Remus said, and Teddy dragged himself to his feet and approached. Remus put an arm around his son's shoulders. "What Sam and I have is not the same thing as what you and I have," he said, keeping his voice quiet, deliberate. "That's not to say that either relationship is more important, or more valid. I love you, Ted, and we're still going to do what we've planned, but as long as Sam is here, I need for you to behave respectably. I need you to act like who you are--my son, and only my son. No rivalries, all right? This isn't Quidditch."
Teddy nodded and leaned into his father's embrace, and Remus sighed. Good--he hadn't gone too far, but he'd made his position clear.
"If Sam spends the night," Teddy said, putting both his arms around Remus then and burying his face in his father's cardigan, "Are you going to be having sex?"
Remus grimaced. Of course it couldn't be just that easy.
"That's not really your business," he replied. He gave silent thanks that he wasn't as young as he once was, because he was fairly certain that what he felt pressing against his leg was not Teddy's wand. He also made a mental note that if he and Sam did, which was not unlikely, that he had better be certain to cast a good strong silencing charm first.
"'M sorry," Teddy mumbled. "Just wanted to know."
"You wouldn't want me to be asking you about whether you were having sex, if you had someone stay over at your flat," Remus pointed out.
"Yeah, but..." Teddy's face was flushed and his hair had gone dark again, and Remus suddenly guessed what was bothering him.
"Regardless of what happens between Sam and me, it won't interfere with my plans with you tomorrow." Remus took Teddy's shoulders and pushed him gently away to hold him at arm's length and make sure Teddy met his eyes. "You can trust me for that."
"Okay." Teddy managed a grin. "I do trust you, Dad." He stuck his hands in his pockets, drawing the material tight over his groin, and Remus turned casually away to poke the potatoes to see if they were cooked.
"Go wash your hands, then. Sam will be back at any minute, and the beef should be done." He pulled it out of the oven to rest a few minutes before carving it, and began to dish up the sprouts. He heard Teddy clattering down the hallway, and then heavier footsteps as Sam came into the kitchen.
"I picked up a couple of bottles, while I was at it," he said, putting them on the counter for Remus to see. "You like Merlot, right? And I thought maybe a good whisky would be suitable for after."
Remus gave him a quick kiss. "Thank you."
"Everything straightened out with Teddy?" Sam said quietly.
"I think so. He's still a little... disconcerted by the idea, but he'll be fine."
Sam nodded. "I don't blame him. That's a lot to have to get used to in twenty-four hours."
Remus nodded in agreement. If only you had any idea, he added silently, arranging the potatoes on the platter with the roast and the sprouts. "Ted," he called down the hallway, "Let's eat."
Teddy appeared in the kitchen a moment later, his face a little pink, the lump in his trousers thankfully no longer apparent. "Don't worry," he said, raising his eyebrows at his father, "I washed my hands." Remus gave a tight-lipped smile and turned to open the wine as Teddy slumped into his chair.
Remus took his usual place at the table, the end nearest the stove and the sink, and Sam sat at his left. There was a distinct silence as the strange semblance of a family regarded the beautiful roast Remus had prepared. He and Teddy had had guests over before--one or two of whom Remus had even been sleeping with, though Teddy hadn't known it--but this time Remus felt as though he were balanced on some precarious ledge.
"Shall I serve the roast, Dad?" Teddy asked, jarring Remus from his reverie.
"Yes, please," Remus replied, and Teddy did, heaping a couple of extra slices onto Sam's plate, then adding a large pile of potatoes and sprouts.
"Trying to fatten me up?" Sam asked, his voice jovial.
Teddy opened his mouth to reply and Remus shot him a warning look. Teddy raised his eyebrows at Remus as if to protest his innocence, then turned back to Sam.
"Isn't my dad a good cook? I thought I'd give you a little extra, since he said he doesn't often get to cook for you."
"Mmm," Sam agreed, "This is a rare treat." He grinned over at Remus, and Remus tapped Sam's foot affectionately with his own under the table.
"Are you going to have breakfast with us in the morning?" Teddy asked then, and Remus choked on a sip of Merlot. It was an innocent enough question, but Remus had a feeling Teddy was playing a game.
"I might," Sam replied coolly, spearing a potato with his fork, "If I were to be invited."
"Well," Teddy replied, twirling his own fork in the air, "That's up to my dad. I just wanted to let you know, though, that he and I have got plans for tomorrow. After breakfast, of course." He pointed the fork at Sam to punctuate his point, and Remus shifted in his chair and coughed to indicate to Teddy that this would be a good time for the conversation to end.
"Is that so?" Sam regarded Teddy for a long moment, then leaned forward a little. "Teddy, I'm not trying to come between you and your father, all right? I like your dad a lot, and I like you, too, from what I've seen so far. Let's be friends. Can we?"
Remus gave Teddy a sharp look. No more, Teddy. No more.
Teddy deflated a little, looking down at his plate, and Remus felt relief well up inside him. It really wasn't like Teddy to act so rudely towards anyone, no matter what the situation, and Remus had thought for a moment he might have to excuse himself and speak to Teddy privately again.
"You trust me, don't you, Teddy?" Remus asked, and a smile broke on Teddy's face.
"I trust you, Dad," he replied, and the rest of the meal passed without incident.
After dinner they adjourned to the living room and Sam opened the bottle of whisky, giving Teddy a small glass after glancing at Remus to see that it was all right.
"Teddy--or do you prefer Ted?" Sam asked.
"Oh. Er. Either one is okay," Teddy answered, sipping at his drink with an expression that suggested he wasn't sure if he liked it.
"That hair colour-changing thing you do, Ted. How does it work?"
"I'm a Metamorphmagus. My mum was, too." Teddy's voice was proud. "I can change pretty much anything about my appearance. Hair colour, skin colour, height, weight... although not completely. My mass doesn't change when I do it." He grinned. "Want to see?"
There was a glint in his eyes that Remus didn't quite like, but he stayed quiet.
"Sure," said Sam amiably.
Teddy wrinkled his nose, concentrating. His hair turned a mousy brown with a good deal of grey in it, his shoulders broadened a little, and scars began to appear on his skin.
Sam laughed. "I see you can mimic other people very well. You look almost exactly like your dad, well done."
"Show him something more interesting. Sam knows what I look like," Remus put in.
"Okay. This is Lily's favourite."
"His godfather's daughter," Remus explained to Sam, who nodded. They watched as Teddy's hair went bright lime green, his eyes turned a quite shocking purple, and his cheekbones and jaw became more prominent.
"Bravo!" Sam applauded. "That would've been a great talent for me to have when I was young."
Teddy returned himself to normal, grinning at Sam's enthusiastic reception. "Yeah? Why's that?"
Sam took a swallow of whisky and looked at Remus. Remus shrugged and gestured for Sam to continue.
"Well," said Sam, "Did you ever hear of a rock group called the Hobgoblins?"
Teddy wrinkled his nose and screwed up his mouth. Remus smiled to himself as he watched Teddy trying to recall. There were a couple of old Hobgoblins record albums in Remus's collection, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd played them.
"I don't think so," Teddy replied, "Why?"
Remus laughed out loud. "I told you it wouldn't mean anything to him," he said, grinning and raising his glass in a toast to Teddy, who looked a little annoyed.
"What wouldn't mean anything to me?" he demanded, swirling the whisky in the glass. He might have looked sophisticated were it not for the fact that he was barefoot and curled up in the overstuffed chair like a much younger version of himself. Not to mention that his hair was still a shocking shade of green.
Sam smiled and shrugged. "I was in a band once," he said, "And I swear I would've given anything to have your talent so I could go out in public without being recognised and mobbed by girls asking for my autograph."
"Just your autograph?" Remus asked, a hint of mischief in his tone.
Sam laughed again and stretched. "For purposes of this conversation, yes," he replied, grinning, then he turned back to Teddy. "They used to call me Stubby, but I'm just Sam Boardman now. Just a regular bloke, but I still wouldn't mind being able to turn my hair blond or shrink a few inches when I see those same girls--they're all so much older now--approaching me in the street. You can always tell by the way they turn their heads and stare for a while--they recall their old record albums and they wonder."
He winked at Teddy. "You probably know what it's like. I imagine you've got yourself quite the entourage."
Teddy squirmed uncomfortably, his face reddening. "I don't know. Maybe."
"Now that he's not in school, it's a bit different, right Ted?" intervened Remus.
"Yeah. I was going out with Victoire my last year at Hogwarts, and she made it pretty clear that the other girls were off-limits," Teddy mumbled.
Remus noted that he didn't mention boys, and wondered if Victoire knew that Teddy had done some experimenting in that direction, or not. Either way, now was not the time to ask, but he filed the thought away for later.
"That's Bill Weasley's daughter; she's one-eighth Veela," he told Sam.
"Oh, well then." Sam laughed. "No competition. Even an old queer like me could be tempted by a part-Veela girl... if she weren't so young. I like a bit of experience." He patted Remus's leg.
Teddy grew even pinker, but he didn't say anything.
"Experience can certainly be advantageous," Remus agreed, carefully not looking at Teddy as he spoke, and squeezing Sam's hand. "Sam, would you pour me just a bit more?"
"Of course." Sam refilled Remus's glass, and his own. "Teddy?"
"No, thank you," Teddy said. "Um. Maybe I'll just go up to my room and listen to some music, or something." He stood up, looking a little forlorn.
"We'll see you in the morning then," Remus said. "If you're going to play music, I do have a couple of the Hobgoblins' albums, you know. They're on that bottom shelf in my study."
"Wicked." Teddy brightened. "I'll give them a try." He was in the office for a few minutes, during which Sam smoothed his hand up Remus's thigh and squeezed gently in a very sensitive spot. Remus laughed low and swatted his hand away.
"Can't you wait until my son goes upstairs?" he murmured, and Sam grinned stupidly and shook his head and leaned in for a kiss just as Teddy emerged from the office, two record albums clutched in his hands.
"Oh, come on," Teddy groaned, lifting the records to cover his face. Remus and Sam moved apart as Teddy stormed up the stairs.
"Good night," he called after him, "And use a bloody silencing spell if you do it!"
This set Sam to laughing so hard that he choked on his whisky. Remus pounded him on the back, his own amusement mingling with concern for Teddy.
Music began, then, from the direction of Teddy's room: a wailing guitar signalling the introduction to the Hobgoblins' debut record, History of Magic.
"Oh, god," Sam moaned, "You've got that record?"
Remus grinned and closed his eyes, remembering spending long hours in his room listening to History of Magic over and over again. He'd been intrigued by the photograph on the album cover, a young man with dark hair falling over his face and brooding eyes, his jacket slung carelessly over his shoulder, the look on his face almost daring Remus to play the record. Remus's new crush hadn't moved very much in the photograph, merely running one sinewy hand up and down his chest and shaking the hair out of his eyes once in a while, only to have it fall right back again.
"It's a brilliant record," he said, moving closer to Sam and running his hands down the chest which was no longer as slim as it had been when Sam was eighteen and just starting his short-lived musical career.
"Hardly," Sam demurred, but he touched Remus's cheek, his fingertips stroking along the line of Remus's jaw and down to his mouth. Remus opened it to suck them gently.
"It was," Remus contradicted when Sam had pulled his fingers away again and was starting to unbutton Remus's cardigan. "Practically every teenaged witch and wizard in Britain owned it, and I remember reading that it sold phenomenally well in the rest of the wizarding world too... and even amongst the Muggles."
Sam looked embarrassed. "Popular, yeah, but I wouldn't say it was musically brilliant. I'm surprised you remember that kind of detail."
"Of course I do." Remus nuzzled at Sam's neck. He wasn't going to tell Sam that part of what had first drawn him to Sirius was his friend's resemblance to the ultra-cool Stubby. Sirius had been handsome enough on his own, anyhow. "The Hobgoblins were the sound of my generation. It was a tragedy when the band broke up."
"Mm." Sam had slipped his hand inside Remus's waistband. "You wouldn't have wanted us to be like Celestina Warbeck, though, going on and on and on forever, sounding just the same."
Remus caught back a moan as Sam brushed along his eager cock. "Maybe we should move this to the bedroom? Even if I suspect Teddy won't dare to emerge again tonight."
Making love with Sam with Teddy just down the hall made the experience more intense, Remus decided as they lay together afterward, both of them drowsy and sated. Not because of the possibility that Teddy might overhear--Remus had cast a good strong silencing spell--but because having his son know the truth of his relationship with his lover somehow deepened it. Sam had understood why Remus had kept his preferences private, and had never pressured Remus to tell, but it was clear that he was pleased to have Teddy aware of the situation. Sam himself was fairly discreet in public, and Remus doubted that the two of them would ever be otherwise; they both had too much to lose.
"Good thing I bought extra sausages, since you're staying for breakfast," he murmured.
Sam chuckled. "Yours is the only one I need."
Remus swatted him and kissed him, and drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.