Title: Talisman
Author: celandineb
Characters: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC17
Warnings: vague hinting about bestiality (but there is none)
Themes/kinks chosen: charms
Word Count: 1500
Summary: Remus thinks the carving brings him luck.
Author's notes: Just a little vignette, really.

The odd little carving had been rather crudely done in soft wood, and the surface paint was dull, even rubbed off completely in places where generations of sticky childish hands had clutched.

Remus saw it the summer after his sixth year at Hogwarts, tucked between a single bookend without a mate and a chipped green glass vase at a Muggle jumble sale. Everything 50 p., the sign on the table declared, and Remus fumbled the coin out of his pocket and handed it to a woman with white hair like candy floss and a fine network of wrinkles covering her face.

He mumbled something about a gift for a young cousin, but it was really for himself that he bought it. The unknown carver had captured the spirit of the two canines in the carving perfectly, despite the many shortcomings of technique. One had a sharp muzzle and ears pricked erect; the other, which had more of its black paint remaining, had the heavy shoulders and blunter face of a hound. The two figures were curled up one behind the other, and the sharp-nosed animal had rested its head on its friend's back.

Sirius would rag him if he saw it, Remus suspected, but took it to school with him that autumn anyway, tucking the carving under his pillow and going to sleep each night with his fingers curled around the smooth wood.

When Sirius came leaping into Remus's bed one evening – Peter was off Merlin-knew-where with some bird from Hufflepuff, and James and Lily were making eyes at each other down in the common room – and proceeded to announce that it was high time that Remus did something more than swot over his books and that therefore he, Sirius, was going to teach Remus how to kiss properly in case he ever needed to know, unlikely though that might be, Remus decided that the little carving had brought him luck. He didn't even mind when Sirius, stretching out his arms lazily afterward, knocked the pillow aside and found it. Sirius rolled his eyes but grinned as Remus grabbed the carving protectively.

When Sirius insisted that they share a flat, after they had left Hogwarts, Remus brought the carving with him and set it up on the bureau overlooking the sagging double bed. He still had permission from Professor Dumbledore to use the Shrieking Shack for his transformations each month, and Sirius always spent the nights with him. Remus would return to human awareness, shivering and crying, to find himself curled up beside Padfoot. They would Apparate together back to the flat and Sirius would put Remus to bed, to sleep the day away under the calm gazes of the two wooden canines. When Remus woke, he was always comforted to see them there. They didn't care if he couldn't find a job, if he was dependent on Sirius. He did what he could, errands for the Order and the occasional temporary position, and tried not to think too much about the future.

It was Sirius's return each evening that he looked forward to. When Sirius was feeling especially wicked he would transform into Padfoot and wrestle with Remus that way, nipping at him – although he never broke the skin – or cheekily humping against Remus's leg and sniffing at his crotch.

"Enough," Remus laughed one night. "Come on, Pads."

The dog suddenly turned back into the boy, Sirius's mouth stretched in a wide grin only inches away from Remus's prick. "Are you saying you're not interested, Moony?" he teased, his hand sliding upward along Remus's thighs.

"No, of course not. It's just, when you're Padfoot..."

"Don't like the idea of being turned on by a dog?"

"Something like that." Remus felt his cheeks turn hot.

"I like smelling you that way, though," said Sirius thoughtfully, pulling himself up and straddling Remus's waist, flipping his dark hair out of his eyes.

"Why, what's it like?"

"It's hard to compare." Sirius frowned, his fingers busy tugging off Remus's shirt. "It's like... I guess it's like eating a Christmas dinner. A little different each time, but always complicated and always delicious. If that makes any sense at all."

Remus nodded. He didn't retain much memory from his hours as a wolf, but what Sirius said evoked an echo of familiarity.

"Does it really make you that uncomfortable when I sniff around you as Padfoot?"

The tone of Sirius's question was a little wistful, and Remus squinted up at him. "If you enjoy it so much, I'm not going to ask you to stop. Just don't get too excited as the dog, okay?"

"No fear. I've tried it, actually, humped a pillow as Padfoot until I came. It's more fun in my own form." Sirius ground his burgeoning erection against Remus's hip for emphasis.

"Yes," said Remus hoarsely, helping Sirius to undo both of their trousers and tug them down. He shivered slightly as Sirius began to touch him. Although the transformation into a wolf was far better when Sirius was around distracting him, Remus still frequently scratched and bit at himself, and there were several tender new scars on his body.

Sirius hummed, burying his nose in the thatch of hair around Remus's prick. "Not as interesting to smell it this way, but still good." He licked a long stripe from base to tip. "I think I want you to fuck me tonight, yeah?"

"Yes, fine." Remus reached for the lube that they kept next to the bed. It was usually Sirius who fucked Remus, not the other way around. Remus enjoyed it either way, and most of the time was happy to let Sirius decide which it would be.

"Stay there," said Sirius when Remus made as if to roll them over. He took the lube and slicked Remus's prick, then reached behind himself. Remus could hear the soft squelch as Sirius plunged well-greased fingers into his own arsehole, loosening himself up before he rose to his knees and, taking Remus's prick in his hand, guided it inside.

It was slow and wet and tight and hot, everything that Remus had ever dreamed of even before Sirius had first slipped into his bed, and he groaned with the pleasure of it. Sirius moved, rocking up and down until Remus was fully seated inside him, and then paused, leaning forward to capture Remus's lips in a kiss that was as hot and demanding as his prick throbbing between their bellies.

As Sirius moved, Remus wrapped his hand around Sirius's cock and stroked it. Sirius's eyes were half-closed, strands of hair clinging damply to his forehead and cheeks, his hands clenched on his thighs. Handsome as Sirius was, he could have had his pick of practically anyone – even James who was basically straight had once laughingly admitted that he wouldn't mind having Sirius's prick up his arse, to try it at least – and Remus always felt a touch of awed wonderment that Sirius had chosen him. It wasn't as if Remus had much to offer. He wouldn't have been particularly good-looking even without the self-inflicted scars, and with his condition the chance that he would ever be able to find permanent steady work was small indeed. He hated his dependency, though Sirius never hinted that he wasn't good enough; it was only Remus's own insecurities that said so.

He smiled up at Sirius, still fisting him, feeling the squeeze of Sirius's arse rippling across his cock.

"So good," he gasped, unable to come while Sirius was rocking so leisurely.

"I know," replied Sirius smugly. He tweaked Remus's left nipple and began to move a little faster. "Worst part of the full moon is not being able to fuck that night, you know?"

A reluctant laugh forced its way from Remus's throat at that. "Worst part for you, maybe."

"Moony."

"What, Pads?"

"You'll never leave me, will you?"

"Not if you don't leave me." They didn't need to use the word "love," which hovered unspoken between them nevertheless.

"Good." Sirius bent forward again, tangling his tongue with Remus's in a sloppy kiss. He ground his hips down. "Come on then, come for me. Fill me up."

He was almost there, almost, almost – and then Sirius clamped down again and twisted Remus's nipple at the same time, and Remus was coming, his hips futilely trying to jerk under Sirius's weight, his back arching.

"That's right," Sirius crooned. Remus's hand had fallen away from his cock, and Sirius took over, wanking himself frantically. The last shocks of Remus's orgasm had just faded when Sirius spurted in hot jets – one, two, three, and a dribbly fourth – onto Remus's chest. He swiped a finger through the sticky mess and held it to Remus's lips. "Want to taste?"

Remus sucked the proffered finger, swallowing, relishing the salty bitterness. Sirius curled up next to him, and Remus rested his head on Sirius's shoulder. The eyes of the wooden canines seemed to look down benignly as the two of them fell asleep.