An English Lady of a Certain AgeCharacter(s):
Incest, dark elementsWord Count:
My thanks to zeltkaiserin
This fic owes heaps and masses to the song A Lady of a Certain Age
by The Divine Comedy. The cut tag is a line from the song.Summary:
Teddy had always wanted to be closer to his family.Disclaimer:
All familiar characters and situations belong to JK Rowling. No profit is being made.
He was certain that if a psychiatrist sat down with him for five minutes it would all go back to his father. It didn't matter that he had barely known his father; that he had no real memories of Remus John Lupin – only what word of mouth, photographs and his imagination had been able to construct. His father had still been a werewolf... and Teddy couldn't stop staring at the lady sitting at the bar.
She shifted slightly, glancing behind herself and trying to mask an insecure look by running a hand back through her hair. She was older than most of the bar's other patrons, but well-aged, in that it wasn't so much wrinkled skin that gave her away, but more her mode of dress and an air of sophisticated experience that made her stick out from the younger crowd.
Her hair was snowy white, suggesting that it had been a pale blond before age had lightened it further. The white of her fur coat was a more mottled, greyish colour by contrast, with the odd brown patch here and there. It was a familiar colour to Teddy. It was the colour his imagination gave his father's coat whenever he wondered what the wolf had looked like. A colour inspired by a lady's coat very similar to the one she
was now wearing.
Teddy had been fifteen when his grandmother had cleared out the attic for a charity sale and had discovered a forgotten gift from another era of her life, not just before Teddy, but before Teddy's mother had come along. It had been a calf-length fur coat, of almost the exact cut Teddy was gazing at now. When his grandmother had pulled it out of the trunk and gasped, Teddy had stopped looking through the piles of boxes and had glanced over. The expression on his grandmother's face had showed a strange conflict between happiness and anger. Sitting on another trunk, the coat had been draped over her knees, and Teddy could still remember how she had covered her mouth with one hand, while the fingers of the other had gently carded through the hairs of the coat. Teddy had known in that instant that it was a thing to be revered.
"So long ago and almost forgotten," his grandmother had whispered, wiping away a few tears.
"Are you all right?" Teddy had asked her.
"Just being a silly old woman," his grandmother had responded.
When his grandmother had then laughed, and tickled his face with the garment, Teddy's breath had caught in his throat. His body's reaction to the soft brush of the fur against his skin had shocked him, and he had soon after retreated to his bedroom to deal with his uncomfortable erection. When later that evening he had noticed the coat amongst the large pile of things to be donated, Teddy had stolen it.
Perhaps that was what really gave the lady's age away, Teddy thought. That she reminded him a bit of his grandmother. His grandmother would have been seventy this year if sickness hadn't carried her off earlier than her time. Teddy liked to think that she had been waiting for him to grow up before she went to rejoin his namesake.
The lady at the bar moved subtly again, and Teddy's attention was drawn out of memories of his grandmother and to the fur coat once more. He licked his lips, remembering the coat he had stolen. How he had taken it back to his bedroom, unsure exactly what he wanted to do with it, only that he had to have it. That first time, he had ended up laying it over his bed and rutting against it, cock hard, nipples sore red from the fur's irritant touch. It was the hardest he had come in his life, and the memory of it, and of the months and years following, made him shift his weight on his feet and discreetly adjust his trousers.
Unable to resist any longer, Teddy drained his gin and tonic and made his way over to the bar.
"Good evening," he greeted the lady as he leaned against the counter and gave his order.
The lady responded in kind, and Teddy allowed himself a small smile when he noticed the way her eyes glanced over his body. While he wasn't as vain as James was about his looks, he knew that he was appealing, and one of the advantages of being a metamorphmagus was being able to improve on what genetics had already given him. This evening’s modifications were merely cosmetic. Others could manage such changes with charms or even muggle remedies, yet on him it all looked natural, perfect, as if he could never have appeared any other way. He had done nothing with his face, which was a flattering blend of both his parents, but he had shortened his hair to a more respectable cut, and toned it down to a warm, glossy brown rather than the electric blue he favoured when out with his mates. He had made the change in an attempt to fit in with the suave Italian crowd, but was pleased that it had also caught the lady's eye.
When she made to order herself a drink, he gave her his best smile. "Allow me."
They fell into easy conversation after that, Teddy doing most of the listening as the lady reminisced about her youth. She had known a lot of the wizarding world's movers and shakers in her time. It made Teddy a little suspicious of just who she had sided with during the war, but that was twenty five years ago, and she spoke just as fondly of the muggleborn celebrities who had come to the fore after the war as she did the old establishment.
"Would you believe I'm fifty-three," she exclaimed after a story about an artist Teddy admired.
Her nervous laugh would have given away the lie if Teddy hadn't already been convinced her age was at least a decade higher than that. However, she was good looking, and Teddy was enjoying her company.
"No!" he responded with an ironic inflection. "You couldn't be. You don't look a day over forty."
His words made her eyes narrow, but Teddy was pleased to see the wry way her lips twisted. She was on to him, and he was on to her, but that didn't mean that the game had to end. He paid the barman once more, and shifted his position so that his fingers just brushed against the coat, the tickle of the fur kicking his simmering amusement and arousal up a notch.
"Do you like fur?" the lady suddenly purred, and Teddy sharply raised his gaze back to her face as he realised that he had been caught out.
She was shrewder than he had first thought, and looking at him in a much more predatory way than she had been up till then. He wondered just how much of their flirtation had actually been under his control, and how much of her nervousness had actually been a lure to catch him.
"Yes," he admitted, meeting her gaze. "I do."
"I have a wolf-skin rug in my room."Wolf?
Teddy watched as the lady slowly pulled the cherry from her cocktail stick with her lips. It was cliché, as so much about this 'English lady of a certain age' was, but his mouth was watering when she bit down on the fruit, and he followed when, without another word, she slid gracefully from the stool and began walking towards the hotel's lobby.
She struck up conversation again once they were in the lift. She had the fur coat wrapped firmly about her, and Teddy slipped his arm around her shoulders. Her question took a few moments to sink in.
"I'm here studying art," he told her.
"An interesting choice of occupation for a young wizard like yourself..."
"I like beautiful things," he dutifully responded.
It earned him a touch of her lips to his jaw. "Good boy."
It had been on a whim that Teddy had decided to try out this particular hotel's bar for the evening. His own digs were incredibly poor in comparison to the room the lady let him into. He wondered whether the large gilt mirror above the fire place would even fit in the room he had rented above a Muggle tobacconist since moving to Italy.
Laid out in front of the fire was the rug she had mentioned. He hadn't really expected her to be telling the truth, and he had to strongly resist the urge to sink to his knees right there and then.
"Do you like it?" the lady asked him. "When I asked, one of the chamber maids told me it’s the pelt of a werewolf."
Teddy wet his lips, and swallowed hard. He doubted the story very much, and he knew that he should have a witty rejoinder, but something about the way she had said werewolf had suddenly made him think she knew something of his family. He gazed at the rug. There was no head attached to the pelt, and he was suddenly very glad of that.
He looked sharply up when the lady laughed. She had shed her coat, draping it negligently over an armchair. The robes she wore underneath were full length but tight fitting, hinting that the body beneath had not yet given in to time's influence.
"I shouldn't listen too carefully to the tales chamber maids tell," she advised him.
Teddy nodded slowly. "What did you say your name was?" he asked, knowing full well she hadn't offered one, just as he hadn't.
"You didn't come here to continue talking, did you?" she replied, avoiding his question. "Why don't you take off your jacket and make yourself comfortable."
She gestured at the rug, and Teddy decided that she was right, there was no point pretending any further. He removed his shoes, socks, jacket and tie before crossing the room and stepping onto the rug. He was aware of the lady's eyes on him the whole time. He closed his eyes as fur brushed the soles of his feet, and he scrunched his toes up in pleasure. When the lady suggested he lie down, he quickly complied, rubbing his cheek against the rug, letting out a shaky breath when the hair tickled at his neck.
"You really do like fur," the lady said, the amusement in her tone. Teddy didn't care if she was laughing at him; he could hear her breath catch as he wriggled out of his shirt and wantonly rubbed his chest against the rug, his nipples puckering under the rasp of his flesh against fur. He struggled to slide his hand underneath him to unbuckle his belt, not wanting to lift more of his skin than was necessary. After a few wriggles and an impatient movement when he had to sit up to drag off his trousers and pants, he splayed himself out, completely naked and groaning at how good his skin felt against the softness of the rug.
The voice interrupted his reverie, and Teddy looked up in annoyance that turned to desire as he caught sight of the lady. She had put her coat back on, but had shed her robes in the meantime. Naked apart from the fur, she approached him, and Teddy immediately rolled over, hands reaching up to her as she straddled him and lowered herself to sit on his thighs. The coat draped itself around her, over his legs, and when she leaned forward to kiss him, she rubbed her fur covered arms over his chest.
"It seems you have a weakness for fur," she told him when she sat back again. "Since the death of my husband, my own weakness has been for beautiful young men. Do you think we could accommodate one another during my visit?"
"Yes," Teddy gasped. She was playfully flicking the ends of the coat at him, and the pale hair of her own body was nestled against the base of his cock.
"Good," she whispered.
Teddy was grateful when she shifted forward slightly. He didn't want to raise his back from the rug; the slight prickle as his skin reacted to the prolonged contact with the fur made him wriggle as much as the way the lady rubbed her coat over his nipples. The rug's hair tickled between his buttocks and he jerked his hips up, bucking against the lady so that he could feel her slick heat against his erection.
"The impatience of youth," she said, making up for her mocking by sliding her palms down his skin. The contrast, of soft skin which cooled and soft fur that heated, made Teddy arch his back, trying to press his chest up into both sensations. When she pinched his nipples he grunted and grabbed at her, pulling her down so that he could feel the press of her own tightened nipples against his flesh. The coat fell either side of him, enclosing them in a fur cave, just as she shifted once more and the head of his cock was able to nudge inside her.
He was surrounded by fur, by her body, and Teddy clung to her, too desperate for the contact against his skin to let her sit up and ride him properly. Her gasps and moans, threaded through his ears like her fingers in his hair. Her tongue was hot against his, her lips cool when they transferred to his sweaty brow. He rolled his hips, trying to get the right friction despite their awkward position. He felt like he was going to suffocate, and when he finally let himself go it was with a yell that never made it past his lips though his mouth opened wide.
He was panting heavily, and he clasped her to him, needing to hold onto something, needing an anchor as he struggled to recover from his orgasm. Slowly, his breathing eased, and he felt comforting fingers carding through his lengthened hair.
"Is it naturally blue, Teddy?" he heard her whisper, and a gentle kiss was placed on his temple. "Your mother's hair was pink when she was happy. I always thought that was her natural colour instead of the brown hair she was born with."
Teddy opened his eyes, and studied the face looking down at him. "Great Aunt Narcissa?"
beautiful," Narcissa murmured. "Is this a problem?"
Teddy shook his head. No, it wasn't a problem. She shifted, and the fur coat brushed against his skin again. He had always wanted to be as close to his family as possible. It definitely wasn't a problem.