|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2008-10-06 08:40:00
|Entry tags:||coauthor: emiime, hp fic better the instruction, hp fic remus/sam|
HP fic: Better the Instruction (10/22) [Remus/Sam, adult]
Title: Better the Instruction (10/22)
Authors: celandineb and emiime
Chapter pairings: Remus/Sam; references to Remus/Teddy.
Chapter rating: adult
Chapter length: ~8300 words
Warnings: Roleplaying, mutual masturbation.
Summary: Remus is glad to reach a fragile peace with Teddy, and enjoys Sam's method of relaxing him.
Note: AU (Remus survived the war). See here for complete story header with all pairings/warnings. Also here.
Remus was beginning to look forward to leaving at the end of the day when the bell on the door tinkled. Automatically he glanced up to greet the arriving customer and was startled to see Teddy there, his hair ordinary brown today--well, he was probably on a break from work, wasn't he?--and his head turning as he searched for Remus, his face taking on a look of determination as he spotted him over in the Self-Help section, kneeling as he reshelved a book.
"Hello, Ted." Remus stood, his knees popping. "What's up?"
"I wanted to know about that concert you suggested." Teddy's face was very faintly flushed. "Do you know the name of the band? And what time the concert is?"
"I can find out from Sam, if you're interested," said Remus, his heart leaping treacherously.
"Yeah, I might be." Teddy shifted. "Might have someone who'd like to come along, too."
"Oh?" Remus tried to keep his voice steady. "A friend from school?"
"No, a bloke from the Portree reserves. Chaser. He was at the pub last weekend." Teddy opened his mouth as if to say more, then shut it again.
"I'm sure that would be fine," said Remus, quelling the urge to demand just what Teddy had been doing with this boy. Man. Whatever. His mind presented him with a totally unwelcome image of Teddy's face tipped back and shining in ecstasy as a faceless male figure pounded into him.
Remus cleared his throat and moved through the aisles to the Herbology section, levitating the stack of books he was reshelving behind him. Teddy followed, his hands in his pockets. Remus could feel Teddy's eyes on him, but he was determined not to look at his son as he continued with his task.
Finally Teddy cleared his throat. "Um, so, I thought that maybe, if you're not busy, we could have dinner tonight? Just--just dinner. You know. Dad."
Remus paused, a book on Mimbulus Mimbletonia in his hand, and he looked at Teddy, trying to determine what the boy's motivations could be.
Shame on you, he told himself after a moment, he just wants to see his dad, and maybe make up for the unpleasantness on Sunday. That's all.
"Your hair looks nice like that," he said, putting the book in its proper place on the shelf. He straightened up and turned to look at Teddy, putting his hands on his hips and nodding. "All right," he said, "We can have dinner tonight. I had a lasagne ready to put in the oven when I got home, but I imagine you'll want to eat out somewhere?" Remus wasn't quite ready to have Teddy over to the house again.
To Remus's great relief, Teddy nodded.
"Yeah, Dad. Wherever you like. I don't care."
It was unlike Teddy to take such a disinterest in food--when someone else was providing it, that was; Remus had seen the sorry contents of Teddy's cupboards--but Remus decided that his lack of enthusiasm was just Teddy's way of proving how cool and detached he could be.
"Well, Ted, I'll be here until five-thirty or so, and I suspect you'll be done around the same time, yes?"
Teddy nodded. "I'll come by as soon as I've finished."
Remus chose a Wizarding restaurant for their dinner on purpose--they'd likely see people they knew, and that way, he hoped, the conversation would stay light.
"How's work?" he asked, after the waitress had taken their order.
Teddy shrugged. "Pretty much the same as always. Madam Poyt's supposed to start me on actually mixing some of the basic potions we sell in January, though, and that should be more interesting." He picked up his fork and put it down again.
"That's good. I know that was part of the reason you took the job at the apothecary to begin with," said Remus, trying to think of something else innocuous to ask.
"Mm hm." Teddy didn't seem too inclined to help the conversation along, looking down at the table, then up at Remus through his eyelashes. Still brown, they were, although Remus had rather expected Teddy to have changed his hair colour to one of the bright shades he preferred, now that he was off for the day.
"I won't be able to let you know about the concert until Saturday, or more likely Sunday," Remus floundered on. "Depends on how soon I can get an owl to Sam and hear back from him."
"Won't you be seeing him? I figured you would, on Friday night at least."
"Probably, but he has a lot of events he has to go to at this time of year, with the holidays coming up. Fund raising, that sort of thing."
It was a relief when their starters came and they could find distraction in eating. Remus kicked himself mentally as he dug into the calamari, which was delicious. This is ridiculous. The two of you have always had plenty to talk about.
"How is that? What did you get again?"
"Garlic prawns." Teddy put one in his mouth, and a streak of butter ran down his chin. He licked at it and laughed. "Want one?"
"I'd love one," said Remus. Rather than have Teddy offer to feed it to him, though, he reached over with his own fork and transferred the dripping morsel to his plate. "Care for some squid?"
"Ew," Teddy replied, turning up his nose, but he smiled, and Remus found himself smiling back.
"What do you know about calamari? You've never tried it!"
"It's squid, Dad. Squid. Slimy, tentacle-y. Like the one in the lake at Hogwarts. I can't imaging eating putting that revolting thing in my mouth!" Teddy laughed and popped another prawn in his mouth as if to rid himself of the imaginary slime from the Giant Squid.
"Mmm, not slimy at all," Remus said, spearing a ring with his fork and waving it back and forth. It wasn't exactly good table manners, but he and Teddy were on the verge of casual conversation and a good time, and he wanted to help it along as much as he could. "Crispy, light... garlic aioli..." He dipped the ring in the sauce and pushed his fork at Teddy.
Teddy pretended to protest for another moment, finally taking the fork from Remus and eyeing it.
"Okay," he said, "But if I do this, then you owe me a favour later." Remus's heart leapt when Teddy said that--ridiculous. It was just something to say. Of course Teddy didn't mean anything by it.
He watched Teddy chew, his nose upturned at first, then he swallowed and nodded. "Okay, you win. It's edible." He reached across the table to take some more, but Remus stopped him, laughing.
"Get your own, Teddy Lupin!" They engaged in a mock wrestling match over the fork, and when their hands touched, Remus's heart kept still. This could only be a good thing.
The rest of the meal passed without incident, and the conversation grew more relaxed as the evening went on. It felt like they were father and son--and only father and son--once again.
"Guess I'd better be getting home," said Remus, waving their waitress down so that he could pay.
"Me too. I have to work early tomorrow." Teddy smiled. "Have to pay the rent, you know."
"I know, believe me." Remus's reply was heartfelt, having spent many years of his life either under- or unemployed. "Ted? I'm glad you were able to have dinner with me tonight."
Teddy's expression went a little wary, but he answered readily enough, "So am I. And you'll let me know about the concert next weekend?"
"As soon as I find out from Sam, yes." Remus counted out the requisite number of Sickles and stood up. "I'll tell him you're bringing a friend, too. I'm sure he can get four tickets, but he'll need to know he has to."
When they had exited the restaurant, with a pause on the way for Remus to say hello to a couple of witches he knew, good customers, Teddy gave Remus a quick hug. "Thanks, Dad. I'll see you soon." He hurried off, and Remus followed more slowly. It had been disconcerting, no question, to find out that Teddy already seemed to be seeing someone new, seriously enough that he'd ask him to go to a concert with his dad. But given that Remus hadn't felt the tug of desire when Teddy had touched him--maybe it really was just ordinary paternal concern that Teddy was leaving the nest.
He did wonder about this other man, this reserve Chaser. Teddy hadn't said a name, and Remus certainly didn't follow Quidditch closely enough to have any idea who it could be. He hoped it was someone near Teddy's own age, though.
Sam sent an owl in the morning, saying that he had a dinner he had to go to that night, but would Remus still want to see him if he came over around ten?
Of course, Remus scribbled in reply. He'd have the lasagne he'd postponed and read one of the novels he'd picked up from the table of remainders, written by a Muggle actor; something about an artist, as he recalled. It sounded moderately promising, and in any case ought to distract him for a couple of hours.
At ten past ten, Remus put the book down with a sigh. God, what tiresome people Muggles could be sometimes. He wondered vaguely if the book could possibly be worth finishing, and decided he might come back to it on the night that it happened he'd read every other book that had ever been published. Or at least every other book that he owned, including the copy of Gilderoy Lockhart's Gadding with Ghouls that he had no idea how he had acquired.
He rose and took his empty teacup and saucer into the kitchen, hoping Sam would arrive soon. It was later than he'd said he'd be there, and besides, Remus needed a distraction from the rigours of that blasted Muggle book.
There was a muffled noise from the living room. Remus smiled to himself, rinsed his teacup, and turned around. Sam had already made his way from the Floo into the kitchen and was brushing ash from his cloak onto Remus's tiled floor.
"Oh--" Remus said, biting off the curse that nearly fell from his tongue. "The ash," he finished lamely, mentally chiding himself for such an inhospitable greeting.
"Oh, bloody hell," said Sam. "Damn. Sorry. I'll sweep it up in the morning, okay? Hi."
"Hi," said Remus belatedly. He knew he could rid the floor of the ashes with a quick flick of his wand, and he did, then, but that didn't make Sam's offer any less endearing.
"You've been spending time with Muggles," Remus said, "I can always tell. Sweep the floor, indeed." He smiled and went to Sam, embracing him, breathing in the wild scent of the cold wool of Sam's winter travelling cloak. Sam was always extra cautious when he was to be interacting with Muggles. In his younger days, any slip-ups could be put down to a rock star's eccentricities, but now he had to present a somewhat more normal face when he went out into the Muggle world, and he overcompensated to the point where he sometimes brought Muggle ideas back with him quite by accident.
Sam laughed. "I know," he said, "I'm ridiculous." Remus held Sam for a moment longer, then let go and helped him off with his cloak, hanging it on a hook by the kitchen door alongside his own.
"Tea?" he asked.
Sam seemed to consider the offer, then shook his head. "No, thanks--I don't want to be awake all night."
Remus put the kettle on anyway. "I've got herbal," he said, and Sam finally assented.
When the kettle boiled, Remus rinsed out the teapot, put in the tea--a chamomile blend--and then poured on the boiling water. He set the pot on the table and brought out cups, then sat down across from Sam.
"How was your dinner?"
Sam pulled a face. "Worthwhile, I suppose, but the food was terrible and the company not much better. You'd think I'd be used to it by now."
"Are you still hungry?" Remus asked with concern. "I had lasagne and there's plenty left over, if you want some."
"No. But thanks. I ate, it just wasn't very good. White fish in a cream sauce, completely tasteless, the salad was wilted... you know what bad catered meals can be like, I'm sure."
Remus shrugged. "Not really. I've almost never had them. Apparently I'm not missing much." He poured out the tea and passed a cup over to Sam.
A smile tugged at Sam's lips as he took a sip. "Well... I was going to ask if you wanted to come to one or two with me, next month, but maybe I shouldn't?"
"Are you sure?" Remus had always thought Sam preferred to be discreet about the fact that he was queer. Given that he didn't regularly appear in public with women, there were doubtless plenty of people who guessed, but that was different from bringing another man to a social event. Remus wasn't sure himself how open he wanted to be, and he wasn't a public figure, not almost two decades after the Battle of Hogwarts.
"Yes. There are a couple that are less formal; not the two-by-two dining, but more like cocktail parties. If you're not interested, I'll understand--they're fund raisers, not fun times," said Sam.
"I think... I might try going to one, anyhow," said Remus slowly. If Sam felt deeply enough about him to ask...
"Good." Sam twined the still-cold fingers of his left hand through Remus's right. "Then I'll be sure of at least some decent conversation."
Remus laughed. "I hope I can meet your expectations."
"You always do," Sam assured him, his thumb stroking over Remus's knuckles.
Remus only smiled and looked down into his teacup. His head was full of questions for Sam and his heart was racing, but for the time being, he thought he'd just shut up and enjoy the moment.
Sam gave his hand a squeeze, then pulled away, raising his teacup to his lips. "And what about the concert next Saturday?" he asked. "Do you think you'll be able to come with me?"
"Absolutely," said Remus, "and I think Teddy's coming, too... with a friend."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Yes. He came into the shop yesterday to ask some questions about the concert, and he mentioned he'd be bringing someone along--someone he met at the pub after the Quidditch match we all attended together." Remus did his best to sound casual about the whole thing. "I'm not actually sure what the boy's name is, and Teddy was pretty close-mouthed on the topic, but I suppose we'll all meet each other on Saturday."
Sam looked at Remus for a long moment. "You sound surprisingly okay with this," he finally said.
Remus considered this. "I think maybe I am," he replied, "though honestly, I'll have to wait until Saturday to be sure." He laughed. "I'll probably kill the little punk if he tries to set a hand on Teddy. You'll have to restrain me."
Sam laughed, too. "Just as long as that's not the day before the moon," he said.
"It's not." Remus was able to reply quickly. He'd had to become good at memorising full moons many years ago, and he often resented how cavalier Sam could sometimes act about the moons--as if it were merely an inconvenience for Remus, a few aches and pains once a month. Certainly he was loving afterwards, but Remus often wondered what Sam would think, and how he would act, if he had any idea of what the transformation was really like. Part of him wanted Sam to know, but the other part hated the idea of anyone seeing him so undone.
"So no tearing the boy limb from limb, even if he is a punk," Sam said, and Remus took a breath and nodded, smiling, determined not to let his train of thought ruin the nice moment they'd been having.
"I promise. Speaking of punk, though, I'm sure it's not a punk band, but Teddy did ask if I knew the name of the group, and I didn't. I suppose he might know them and that's why he's curious. Or maybe he wants to get an album and listen first."
"Let me think... the Screaming Meemies, I believe it is." Sam rolled his eyes. "I don't know where they come up with these names."
"They can be pretty peculiar," agreed Remus, "but I suppose it's a way to be memorable. And isn't it the music that counts, in the end?"
Sam gave a bark of laughter. "Only partly. Promotion counts for a lot, far more than you might think. Talent might get a person a shot in the first place, but unless the company thinks that the overall sound and look is marketable, that's as far as they'll go. It's grown worse over the years, especially in the Muggle industry, but it's almost impossible for a Wizarding musician to make a living and not cross over to some extent."
"Guess you're glad you got out when you did, then," said Remus.
"Oh yes. For many reasons." Sam set down his teacup and pushed it away. "I enjoyed performing, mostly, but I think I'm better at what I do now."
"Even though you have to socialise with boring potential charity donors, instead of being sought after by groupies?" Remus teased him gently.
"Don't need any groupies, not any more, not having you." Sam's eyes were bright, and a flush of warmth spread through Remus.
"That's nice to hear... although I could pretend to be one, if you wanted. 'Ooh, Stubby! You're so brill!' And toss my underwear at you." Remus grinned.
"You're welcome to toss your underwear at me," said Sam, "although I'd rather you did it here and not in public. In fact..." He stood up and came around behind Remus, leaning over to rub their cheeks together. "That sounds like an excellent idea, if you're interested."
"Mm," said Remus, nuzzling back. He glanced at the clock, which indicated that it was almost eleven. "It's a bit late, but I think I'm persuadable. Can you stay tonight?"
"Of course. And you know what, I'm going to drag you to Madam Malkin's tomorrow and make you choose a dressing gown to keep at my flat."
The warmth that had spread through Remus spread further still. "All right," he murmured as Sam pressed a kiss to his neck. He stood and embraced Sam for a long moment, then squeezed his hand. "Let's go upstairs."
"Promise you'll toss your underwear at me?" asked Sam, giving Remus's arse a squeeze.
Remus laughed and squeezed back. "They may be somewhat less frilly than the ones you're used to, Stubby, but they'll have to do."
"Ooh, up for roleplaying tonight, are we, perhaps?" Sam's voice had a cautious edge to it.
"Perhaps," said Remus, though he felt a bit uneasy at the prospect, having never done it before. He did doubt his own acting abilities. "But not Professor Lupin and the Naughty Gryffindor."
"And not Stubby Boardman and the Screaming Fan, if you don't mind," said Sam. "I'm serious--you're the only fan I actually care about. I don't need--or want--to relive those days."
Remus nodded as they started up the stairs. "Did you have something particular in mind?"
He could have sworn Sam blushed, though the stairway was too dark to be able to tell for sure. "Um," Sam stammered, "there's an idea I've been thinking about--and you can say no--"
"I know," Remus interjected.
"Okay." They had reached the top of the stairs. Remus turned to go into the bedroom, but Sam stopped him. "Let's go in there when we're ready, okay?" Remus assented, and Sam continued.
"I was thinking that perhaps--have you ever had a massage? An actual proper massage, I mean, not one of my half-arsed backrubs."
"No," Remus admitted, though he'd often have loved to be able to indulge so after a long day at work--or after a full moon, when every muscle in his body felt as if it would never feel good again.
"I can't get them anymore--I used to love to, but I always end up getting hard, and that's just embarrassing for everyone involved. So I thought maybe if you wanted to, I could, ah, be your masseuse for the evening?"
"Masseuse?" Remus asked a little incredulously. "Like, a girl?"
"No." Sam turned red. "I meant masseur. Sorry, slip of the tongue."
Remus wondered about that for a moment. Maybe Sam did fancy dressing in women's clothes occasionally... and if he did, why not? It wasn't as if Remus objected to women; he'd been married to one. He just preferred men, on the whole, and he definitely preferred Sam. "I don't care which," he said, putting his arms around Sam, "and I'd love to have you for my masseur or masseuse."
"I don't know how good I'll be, but I'll do my best," Sam replied, avoiding the issue. "You have some oils and things, right? And I can transfigure the bed into a proper massage table temporarily."
"I think I have some oils that would work. I'll show you and you can decide. They're in the bedroom, though," said Remus, and this time Sam allowed himself to be tugged into the room.
As Sam transfigured the bed, and moved it and a couple of lamps around to be where he wanted them, Remus rummaged through his special drawer to see what he might have by way of massage oils. Mostly he had gel-based lube, which probably wouldn't be suitable, but there were a couple of bottles of oil shoved towards the back.
"How about these," he began to say, turning, but Sam was already close behind him, looking over Remus's shoulder at the rest of the items in the drawer. Remus heard him breathe in sharply.
"That's... quite a collection you have."
Remus swallowed. He'd never talked with Sam about his toys. "I've picked them up over the years. Didn't know if you'd be interested."
"I might be." Sam's hand hovered over one of the plugs. "Oh, yes. But another time. You found some oil?"
"Yes." Remus showed the bottle to Sam, who uncapped it and sniffed at it.
"This should do."
"All right," replied Remus. "Should I--"
Sam cleared his throat. "Please go ahead and get undressed, Mr Lupin, and make yourself quite comfortable up on the table--you see there's a sheet provided for modesty. I'll just be in the hallway; I'll give you a moment and I'll knock before entering."
"Oh," said Remus, "All right." He began to unbutton his cardigan as Sam turned to leave the room. He was definitely a little disconcerted by the abrupt beginning of the game, but he could see how this might be fun, after all. And even if he didn't enjoy the roleplaying, well, he would at least get a massage out of the deal--with oil!
He undressed, folding his clothing and setting the neat stack upon the bureau, and sat on the table for a moment, trying to orient himself within the game. There was a knock on the door, then, and he moved quickly, slipping under the sheet and lying on his stomach, playing the part of the unsuspecting customer.
"Ah--yes. Yes, come in." Remus's own voice sounded strange to his ears as he spoke through the face hole.
Sam closed the door softly behind himself and Remus didn't hear a single footfall as Sam crossed the floor to stand beside the transfigured massage table.
"I'll warm the oil between my hands before we begin," said Sam, "and I'll let you know before I place my hands on you."
Remus smiled, knowing Sam couldn't see his face. Sam was really getting in to his character. It was endearing. "All right, thank you."
"I'm going to touch you now, Mr Lupin." Remus rearranged his face into a mask of calm, supposing that he should make some attempt to get into character himself.
And then Sam's hands were on his back, spreading oil across it and working it into his skin with sure, fluid motions. Remus let out a long breath, one he felt he'd maybe been holding in for years.
"Yes, please just relax, and if you find anything at all uncomfortable, don't hesitate to let me know," Sam said.
Remus couldn't really nod, with his head held in place by the face rest, so he said, "Yes," aloud.
Sam began to knead his way along Remus's spine, one vertebra at a time, searching out and soothing every tight muscle as he went. Once or twice he paused to add more oil to his hands. Remus melted into the table, or so it felt, as Sam worked. Even the few scars on his back for once didn't seem to feel any different from the rest of his skin.
He'd lost all track of time when Sam said, "That's all for the back, at the moment. I'm going to work on your right arm next, then the left." He spread the sheet up over Remus's back, leaving his arms uncovered.
"Okay," murmured Remus, as Sam began. Sam's fingers brushed against Remus's armpit, and he flinched. "Ticklish there."
"I apologise." Sam was careful to keep away from the sensitive spot after that, his thumbs digging into Remus's muscles, hard enough to be not exactly painful, but very intense.
"Legs now," said Sam as he let Remus's left arm go, repositioning it gently on the table.
Having heard Sam say that he usually got hard when given a massage, Remus had half-expected the same to happen to him, but all through Sam's work on his back and shoulders and arms, Remus had merely felt deliciously relaxed. When Sam began on his legs, however, matters changed. Not the calves, but both Remus's feet and his thighs proved susceptible to Sam's touch, and his prick responded accordingly.
"That's very nice," said Remus hoarsely, trying both to stay in character as a client, and also convey to Sam that he was indeed becoming aroused. Sam was working on his left thigh, hands slippery with the oil, the smell of which was also contributing to the sensual atmosphere. Remus began to wish that the sheet, now draped down his back, over his arse, and between his legs, might somehow slip so that Sam might massage his arsecheeks, or even touch the backs of his balls.
"Thank you, sir," Sam replied.
Remus reached down between his legs to adjust his prick, which was trapped at an uncomfortable angle between his body and the table and growing harder. Sam didn't pause in his ministrations, but kept working his hands over Remus's thigh, moving higher and higher.
"If I could have you turn over and lie on your back, please, sir," came Sam's voice. Remus made to comply, then paused. Right. He should remain in character.
"Ah," he said, unmoving, "I--don't think I can at the moment."
"Is everything all right, Mr Lupin?" asked Sam. He placed his hand, palm down, fingers together, in the centre of Remus's back, and heat seemed to radiate from it.
Remus coughed and adjusted himself again.
"Er, yes. I just--I seem to be having a bit of a problem, ah, down here."
"Oh, I see," came Sam's voice. He began to move his hand in little circles on Remus's back. "Don't worry, sir. That happens to more clients than you might expect. Now, may I have you on your back, please? I'll begin the second half of your massage, starting with your chest."
"My chest," Remus repeated, "Right." He steeled himself with a breath and was surprised afterward to realise that he hadn't had to tell himself to stay in character--he was really getting into Sam's idea.
He turned himself over on the table and lay on his back, and Sam draped the sheet over him once again. Remus's prick tented the sheet, but Sam pretended to pay it no notice as he began massaging Remus's chest, still using the oil. Remus was a little worried that the hair on his chest might get tangled and pinch, but soon he felt himself relaxing again under his masseur's unexpectedly talented touch.
Sam smoothed his hands down Remus's sides, careful to avoid going anywhere near his ticklish armpits. Remus's erection had flagged a bit while Sam massaged his chest, but it sprang back to its full erect state when Sam folded the sheet back just enough to expose the tops of Remus's hips and slid his hands along there.
"Are you still, ah, uncomfortable, sir?" Sam asked, and Remus squirmed.
"I'm afraid so." If it weren't Sam, but a stranger, he'd have been mortified; even as it was he felt somewhat discomfited.
"As I said, it's not uncommon. Do you want me to continue?" Sam rested his hands on Remus's outer thighs, unmoving.
"Er... yes, I suppose I do." It did feel wonderful, and Remus might as well let this play out to the end. He was surprised that he wasn't yawning, but although he was relaxed he felt very awake, despite the late hour.
"Very well." Sam poured more oil on his hands, rubbing them to warm it, and began to give long slow strokes along Remus's thigh. Here he didn't dig into the muscles as he'd done on Remus's back; there was a little of that, but it was more simply gentle pressure. Remus moved his other leg away as Sam's fingers massaged the inside of his thigh, but Sam ignored the implicit invitation, continuing to move down Remus's leg to his shin and at last his foot. Then he returned to do the same on the other leg.
Remus had by then given up hoping that Sam might be anything less than professional during the game, and simply enjoyed the sensations while trying to ignore the urgency of his prick. He'd closed his eyes, and was surprised when he heard Sam say, "Mr Lupin?"
"I'm finished, sir."
"Oh," said Remus, a little regretfully, opening his eyes. "Well, it was wonderful. Thank you."
"Unless..." Sam had walked back up towards Remus's head, redraping the sheet over him but letting a hand rest on Remus's hip.
"For special clients I sometimes offer an additional service," said Sam, his eyes steady on Remus's.
Remus licked his lips. "I'd be very happy to accept whatever services you're willing to offer."
A smile flickered across Sam's face. "Wonderful. Mr Lupin, I wonder if you'd mind if I removed your sheet?"
"Not at all," said Remus, and Sam slipped the sheet from Remus, dragging it across his cock. Remus choked a little at the friction he'd been craving, and he closed his eyes, thrusting his hips up ever so slightly, waiting for Sam's touch.
"I hope you don't mind me saying so, Mr Lupin, but it's been enjoyable massaging you, and I'm quite glad you accepted my offer. You have a wonderful body and--" Sam dragged a hand along where Remus's thigh met his groin. "And you have a very nice cock, too."
The cock that was the subject of discussion twitched, and the hairs on Remus's thighs stood on end as Sam trailed his fingers back up along the same path.
"Ah," Remus said, "thank you very much." There was something so deliciously wrong about being exposed like this, discussing his body so openly and, as had happened so far, clinically. The thought flickered across his mind again that he'd have been deadly embarrassed if anyone but Sam had him spread out like this on a table, nude and erect and awaiting whatever touch might be bestowed upon him.
Remus shivered under Sam's gaze.
"I'd quite like to touch your cock, Mr Lupin." Remus closed his eyes again and shuddered. Sam's polite tone struck something deep inside him, and Remus struggled with it for a moment--he refused to allow himself to see exactly what it could be. He opened his eyes again a moment later and nodded.
"I'd quite like that myself." He could see that Sam was hard, too, openly palming himself through his trousers.
"Perhaps," Remus said, directing his gaze not at Sam's face, but at the bulge between his legs, "you might be more comfortable if you took off your own clothing."
"Oh," said Sam, "I--well, it's not something I've been asked to do before, honestly," he said, as his breath came in short puffs. "Are you certain, Mr Lupin?"
"Absolutely," replied Remus. "Why don't you do it right here, so I can watch you?"
"If that's what you would like, sir." Disregarding his oily hands, Sam began to unbutton his shirt--he'd discarded the jacket before beginning the massage--starting with his cuffs, then going from neck to navel, slipping each button out of its hole and letting the crisp white cotton sag open.
Remus watched, dry-mouthed. Sam's chest was nothing he hadn't seen before, of course, but somehow the deliberateness of the unveiling, after Sam's careful efforts to remain in the character of the masseur, made the sight extra erotic. As Sam slipped his arms out of the sleeves, he turned slightly, and the dim glow from the lamps emphasised the muscles of his chest.
"All your clothes," Remus reiterated, as Sam seemed to pause for a moment.
"As you wish." Sam was flushed, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. He unfastened his trousers and pushed them down over his hips and the bulge of his cock, letting them fall to the floor and stepping away from the puddle of black wool. He put one hand lightly on the edge of the massage table to balance as he removed his socks, then stood upright again, hooking his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his underpants. Deliberately he caressed the firm length of his prick through the white cotton before he let it spring free, bending over and giving Remus a delicious view of his arse as he shed that last piece of clothing.
"Is that what you wanted, Mr Lupin? May I touch your cock now?"
"Yes," Remus whispered.
Sam oiled his hands once more, rubbing to warm them, and placed them on Remus's stomach, rubbing downward in small circles, sliding underneath Remus's hard cock. He continued to massage with one hand, but with the other--god, finally--he held Remus's prick, just holding it for a moment, as if it were something precious.
"You've a very nice cock, sir." Sam's voice quivered a tiny bit, and he spread out his fingers.
"Thank you," Remus managed to say. With Sam standing and himself lying down, Sam's prick was nearly at Remus's eye level. "You have a fine one yourself, if you don't mind my saying so."
"Not at all." Sam stepped nearer, almost close enough for Remus to turn his face and press a kiss to Sam's bare skin, more than close enough for Remus to smell Sam's scent, the musky fragrance of desire.
He breathed deeply, enjoying the scent, but not wanting to touch Sam yet--he was enjoying the services of Sam's character a little too much. He let his legs fall open a little further.
"Please feel free to touch me... wherever you'd like," he said, attempting to keep his voice as light as he could under the circumstances, his leaking prick heavy and tight in Sam's grasp.
"Thank you, sir," Sam replied, and he brought his other hand down to caress Remus's bollocks, which were tight, nearly bursting with come. "I think I will."
"Ohh..." Remus sighed. He couldn't last much longer--Sam's touch was electric, and he knew that when Sam began to move his hands--ohgodthere--he'd be coming in only a minute or two, like a randy teenager.
"Fuck, oh god, yes," Remus babbled as Sam's fingers caressed his cock just the way Remus liked, with light touches on the upstroke and firmer ones on the downstroke. Sam's other hand slipped back, back, behind Remus's bollocks, stroking all the while, until his fingers touched Remus's perineum and Remus arched up, hissing.
"You--you like that, Mr Lupin." It wasn't a question. Sam's voice trembled and the massage table shook a little--Remus realised Sam was rubbing his prick against it as he fondled Remus's cock and balls.
Remus nodded, not trusting himself with words.
"Shall I continue, sir? Would you like me to massage... a little further back?"
"God, yes," gasped Remus. "Touch my arsehole, make me come, please--" He was close, and he knew it. He hoped Sam was, too.
Sam's fingers continued on their journey while Sam's other hand flew on Remus's prick, Remus's precome mixing with the oil from Sam's hands. Remus thrust up, up, lifting his hips from the table, fucking Sam's tight fist.
When Sam's oiled finger pressed just inside Remus's arsehole, that was it. Remus came with a cry, spurting onto Sam's hand and his own belly, the bitter scent of come mingling with the light fragrance of the oil. Ropy strands of spunk coated Sam's fist, and when Remus's cock was still twitching out his orgasm, Sam brought his hand down to coat Remus's balls with the mixture of oil and semen.
"Come on me," Remus gasped, curling his own hand around his cock and milking the last of his climax from himself. "Please, Sam. Want you to."
"Yes," Sam agreed, and swung himself up onto the table, kneeling over Remus's supine body. With the same hand he'd used to bring Remus off, he grasped his prick and pumped it, his bollocks swaying. "Whatever service you wish, I'm happy--to--provide." The last few words jerked out of his mouth as the semen spurted from his cock, splattering on Remus's stomach and chest. Sam bent forward, breathing hard.
"That was fantastic," said Remus, curling his hands around Sam's back and pulling him closer. "You're a marvellous masseur... even if I don't have any other experience to compare it to." He gave Sam a kiss. "Actually, even if someone else could do a better job with the massage--though I don't see how--those 'extra services' are something only you could give me."
Sam chuckled. "Yeah. I've never had a masseur offer those to me. Wished one would, a few times, but they've always been very professional and ignored my reactions." He rubbed his rough cheek against Remus's shoulder. "Guess I'd better change this massage table back into a bed, huh? Great for one person to relax on, but not for two to sleep."
Sam got up, and Remus followed suit. "I suppose a shower is probably a good idea before going to bed. I'm a bit oily."
"That's the one downside. If you ever do get a professional massage, wear clothes you don't mind getting a bit gunked up. Oh, they'll make sure you have towels to clean up with before you get dressed again, but I always managed to miss a few spots," Sam said. He found his wand and transfigured the bed back. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"A lot." Remus embraced Sam tightly. "I'm glad you suggested it. Maybe we could try some other sorts of roleplaying, sometime."
"I think that's a splendid idea." Sam grinned. "But I want to look at your little collection again, too, see if that inspires any other ideas."
Remus nodded. "If you like. Come on, let's shower."
Under the hot water, as they were soaping all the bits of each other that they could reach, Remus said, "You seem awfully intrigued by my... toys. Do you use any yourself?"
Sam shook his head. "I never have, actually," he said. "I've always known they existed, of course, but somehow I could never get up the courage to actually go into a sex shop and buy one." Remus laughed, and Sam did, too.
"I know!" he exclaimed, handing Remus the shampoo. "It's ridiculous. Yes, I've been into sex shops a few times--always Muggle ones, mind you--but I've never managed to so much as stop long enough by the toy section to get a good look." He paused, slicking his wet hair back from his face.
"It can be embarrassing the first few times," Remus admitted, "but then you realise that everyone else in the shop is in there for the same reason. Oh, not necessarily to buy plugs, or what have you, but to fulfil some sexual need."
"I guess I know that, logically," Sam replied, "But, god, I don't know--buying a plug in a shop--I feel like I'd be announcing to the world that I'm actually an old fairy." He shook his head and got out of the shower.
Remus followed a moment later and joined him in towelling off. They made their way back to Remus's room in silence, each putting on clean pants to wear to bed.
They crawled beneath the covers and Remus put an arm around Sam.
"You are an old fairy," he said softly, running his fingers over Sam's back, "well, middle-aged, not old, but that's beside the point. There are plenty of straight blokes who like to take one up the arse now and then. A plug's not such a big deal."
"Remus, I know that. I just don't want to do it myself." Sam turned over, presenting his back to Remus.
"All right." Remus decided to let the matter drop for the moment.
There was a period of silence between them. Sam's breathing evened out, and Remus wondered if he'd fallen asleep.
"Hey," Sam said, his voice husky. "This doesn't mean--I still want to take you to those parties, all right? As my date. As my--partner. If you still want to."
"Yes, all right," said Remus. He spooned up against Sam, and Sam held onto Remus's arm where it draped over Sam's belly.
"They're two different things, but right now I'm too tired to figure out why," said Sam, and he let out a great yawn, and neither man said anything else, for soon they were both fast asleep.
In the morning over breakfast, Sam said, "Ready to go choose a dressing gown?"
Remus looked over at him. Sam was smiling a little uncertainly. "You're sure you want to do this? In Diagon Alley? We could go to a Muggle shop instead, like Marks and Spencer. I wouldn't care."
"No." Sam let out a breath. "If you're going to come with me to parties, if we're going to be more open about this relationship, surely we can go shopping together where people might know us. Unless you don't want to?"
"I've always kept my private life private... but that was largely on Teddy's account. And I'm not a public figure like you are." Remus shrugged. "It'll feel odd at first, but that's okay." He thought about what Sam had said last night, about being too embarrassed in Muggle sex shops to look around properly. "When you said that you didn't like going into a sex shop to look at toys--it's not because you're against the idea of using them, right? You just don't want people staring at you, judging you."
Sam nodded. "Pretty much."
"Well--what if we went together? Not today, necessarily, but sometime?" Remus pushed to the back of his mind the oddity that he'd taken Teddy for his first visit to Prowler only last Sunday, and now he was suggesting the same to Sam.
"I, um." Sam chewed at his lip. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."
"All right," said Remus peaceably. "It's up to you."
When they'd finished eating, Remus quickly did the dishes, and then they headed to Madam Malkin's.
"Silk," said Sam firmly, steering Remus away from the rack that had cotton and flannel dressing gowns on it.
"But it's so impractical," Remus protested. What he meant was "expensive," but he didn't like to say so.
"Doesn't matter." Sam leaned over to whisper in Remus's ear. "I want to feel you in silk, Remus. Please?"
Remus shivered and glanced around to be sure no one had seen them, then he chastised himself as he began to look at the silk dressing gowns with Sam. If they were going to take this relationship public, he couldn't be looking over his shoulder all the time.
Sam held up a light blue dressing gown with gold piping. "This one's nice. What do you think?"
"Hm. I think I prefer something a little more sedate, actually. That one is nice, but maybe... yes, I think this brown one." He plucked a dressing gown the colour of chocolate from the rack and held it up against himself.
"Oh, that's going to look nice on you," said Sam. He took it from Remus and walked up to the counter with it, smiling at the salesgirl. "We'll take this, please. No, Remus, go look at something else or you won't let me buy it when you see the price."
Sam was right--Remus had been trying to peek at the price tag. He gave a self-deprecating grin and slunk off towards the door to look out at the street while Sam paid for the dressing gown and the salesgirl wrapped it.
He scanned the crowd and, a moment later, realised he was looking for his son. He shook his head. Teddy wasn't out there. He'd be at work, probably, and if he wasn't, he'd still be asleep--Teddy had never been an early riser. Remus didn't let himself think about where Teddy might be sleeping--or whom he might be with.
"Ready?" Sam carried the bag with Remus's new dressing gown inside it, and he gave Remus a quick one-armed hug as they exited Madam Malkin's together.
"Thank you," Remus said, hugging him back. "Not just for the dressing gown, but for everything you've--everything we're doing together. As far as anyone knows, I've been celibate for the past eighteen years. It's going to be good to be able to be publicly in love again." He felt heat rise in his cheeks when he said love--he still wasn't entirely used to saying it, even if he did mean it, and even if he knew that Sam did, too.
Sam only hugged him again, then let him go. "Do you have to work today?"
"Sadly, yes," Remus replied, "But I believe I'm free tonight and all tomorrow."
"Good. Your shop closes at six on Saturdays, I remember, so why don't you come by my flat when you're off?" Sam held up the bag. "You can even change into something more comfortable."
"I'll be there," Remus promised. "Blast. It's nearly noon--I have to go. See you tonight."
He hurried along the street and ducked into Flourish & Blotts. They weren't quite in full gear yet for the holiday season, but already business was picking up. Remus made a mental note to remind the manager, Phillip, that he had to have off the afternoon of Tuesday 13 December and the entire next day--Phillip would be making out the December schedule soon, and if Remus didn't keep after him, he'd forget the full moon and put Remus down to work then.
During his tea break, Remus realised that he still needed to let Teddy know about the concert. It would be quickest just to pop down to the apothecary and tell him, if he was working today, instead of sending an owl. He might as well try and see.
Remus always noticed the unique smell when he went into Slug & Jiggers, a compendium of all the herbs and other ingredients the shop stocked. It wasn't a bad smell, precisely, but noticeable. He coughed as he stepped toward the counter. Teddy was indeed working, and luckily there was only one other customer waiting.
As soon as the witch had taken her purchases and left, Teddy said, "Dad! What are you doing here?"
"I just stopped by to tell you the name of the band for the concert next week--the Screaming Meemies." Remus leaned against the polished counter top. "And Sam's quite looking forward to meeting your friend. Don't worry, he won't embarrass either of you. He's spent too much time in the public eye to do that."
"I know." Teddy blew his fringe out of his eyes. "Haircut, yeah Dad, I know. It's brown for Madam Poyt though."
"So I see." Remus smiled. "Since I'm here, why don't you sell me some wound-cleaning potion? I noticed I'm nearly out, and it's a good one to keep around."
"Sure." Teddy brought down a bottle and rang up the sale. "Shall I just come over to your house next Saturday? Maybe at six?"
"That ought to be fine. I'll let you know if it changes." Remus took the bag from Teddy, then gripped his hand briefly. "Take care, Ted. I'll see you next week."
He went back to work with a lighter heart. Things seemed to be back to normal with his son, and he'd be spending the night at Sam's--yes, everything looked far better than it had last Sunday.