Title: Lost and Held
Author: gatewaygirl
Characters: Sirius, Peter
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Castration, sex, cross-dressing, manipulation
Themes/kinks chosen: Eunuchs/Castrati, Costumes
Word Count: 5,317
Summary: An accident gives Sirius and Peter a shared secret
Author's notes: November prompts included the theme "eunuchs/castrati". It's listed in the tags as "castration", which would have been a rather different story. I have been as accurate as I could manage with the theme, but certainly do not guarantee all details are correct. ;-) Thanks to Clauclauclaudia for very short-notice beta work.



Lost and Held


Peter had a voice like an angel, a boy soprano that adorned the air like light itself. It was one of the few things he was praised for; that voice made matrons swoon, and grown wizards hold their breath.

That wasn't the reason, of course. It wasn't that Peter was frantic after his voice breaking in that afternoon's performance for the Board of Governors, or that Sirius was carelessly violent. It was an accident, they agreed -- the sort of thing that was an unavoidable risk of a small creature teasing a vigorous animal fifty times his weight in too close proximity to a hawthorn. Peter knew it was an accident, and Sirius knew it was an accident, and no one else knew about it at all.

There had been a huge amount of blood. For that alone, they should have gone to see the school matron, but that was an unthinkable violation of the unwritten Marauder code of honor. It helped a little when Peter changed from a rat, whose bollocks had trailed on the floor, to a human. 'Helped' in a relative sense: he was still curled in a ball and white with pain, but his blood wasn't pouring out in quite the same proportion, though there was stringy stuff trailing out of what was left -- what was left attached to him, that was, rather than hanging from the hawthorn. Sirius was able to staunch the blood and repair the skin with two quick spells; if there was one thing the Marauders were all good at -- even Peter -- it was first aid charms.

Sirius took Peter back to their dormitory. James was in the Hospital Wing with Dragon Pox -- having somehow managed to avoid it as a child, less luck him -- and Remus was there with his 'monthly problem,' so Peter had a few days to recover, and Sirius to research.

"What's going happen to me?" he asked, the second day.

"I'm not certain," Sirius said. "I mean... That was definitely... there's not much left inside ... well, what's left of your bollocks. We should have gone to the matron, really." He could see this in hindsight. Peter, his cheeks bright over a pale face, shook his head.

"And said what? That someone knifed me?"

"True enough."

"I won't have children, got that. And sex, but that's dumb anyway; do you know any seventh-year who isn't an idiot? But what else? Will I keep my voice? Can we hide it?"

Sirius's notes hit his knee with a thwap! "One or the other, Peter."

"It could be a good falsetto."

"I don't think that's the same."

"Look, did you find anything or not?"

Sirius sighed. "Well, here. There's plenty of information on castrati -- boys who were castrated before puberty to develop a high adult voice. They get unusually tall, but look kind of softly feminine, and have, well, the voice. And I could also find a lot on what happens if someone is castrated as an adult." As well as some curses to do it. "They get heavier, on average, and lose interest in sex, unless they take potions. What I can't
find out is what happens if it happens in the middle."

"The middle of what?"

"Puberty, you dunce!"

"So you don't know if I'll keep my voice?"

"How the hell can you be so interested in your voice when you'll never have heirs?"

"I'm not you, Sirius. No one cares if I have 'heirs' or not."

"Look, if you develop a castrato's voice, people will notice. Do you want to hide this or not?"

"Of course I want to hide it! Can I?"

"I don't know." Sirius looked back at his notes. "I could probably find something to keep you from growing too much."

"Could we hide the voice? Rather than, you know, changing it?"

"I don't know." Sirius caught himself. He shouldn't be angry; if Peter ever had the right to be whiny, it was now. "Look, now that I know it matters to you, I'll try to figure that out."



The deception became harder over the next two years. Even Sirius had to admit that he'd done too good a job of keeping Peter from growing too much, and Peter was starting to wonder, as all of his friends took to coming home late, if he would have liked sex.

"Do you ever...?" Sirius asked one night, when Remus was out 'convalescing', and James was out courting. He was lying on his side on his bed, and as he spoke, made an obscene gesture vaguely in front of his crotch. "You know."

"I...." Peter looked down. "Um, only once since...."

"Can you get it up?"

"What?" Peter squeaked.

"Just curious."

"I haven't much, um, tried."

Sirius shifted, canting his hips forward. "Would you like me to see if I can, uh, well, help? I've done blokes, you know."

Peter snorted. "It's been rumored. Of course, James claims you do sheep."

"Never!" Sirius exclaimed indignantly. He got up restlessly. "Of course, hm -- a shag and then fresh mutton? It has its appeal."

Peter choked. Sirius sat down on his bed, and Peter rolled back in something that looked like alarm, but which certainly left him more accessible.

"So....."

"After that, you think I'll let you touch me?"

"I won't eat you," Sirius promised, smirking. "Well, not that way." He reached out to touch the front of Peter's robes, stroking in search of his cock. "Hm. Soft. I'm gonna get this fabric out of the way, okay?"

"I...." Peter bit his lip. "Do you think I can?"

"Only one way to find out, yeah?" As he spoke, Sirius unfastened the front of Peter's robes. He parted them, and began to work on the trousers underneath.

"I'm not.... We're not...."

"Relax," Sirius soothed. "It's an experiment, right?"

"Okay.

"Good."

Sirius hadn't really looked at Peter's equipment since the initial fever had lifted. Smooth skin took him by surprise. He brushed a hand down Peter's groin to his shrunken bollocks.

"You have almost no hair."

Peter didn't answer, so Sirius stroked gently up his cock. That produced very little response, so he tried a grip around, and a little bit of pressure in the pull. Peter's cock got somewhat fuller, but not really hard, no matter what he speed Sirius tried.

"This isn't working."

"Yeah. I'm going to try my mouth."

He'd been wanting to do that since he saw it, really. Sirius wasn't new to having a cock in his mouth, but they'd always been hard at the first slide of his lips, if not before. This mouthful of something large and soft was different. The scent was different. The lack of hair was very different. He stuck a hand down his trousers to feel himself in contrast. He was hard -- hard and eager for touch -- and there shouldn't be anything sexy about this, should there?

Peter made a pleased sound. Sirius worked his tongue a little more and was satisfied to hear the sound repeat.

"That feels really good, Sirius."

Not hard, still. Maybe a little firmer. Sirius closed his eyes and tried loose pumps of his head. He got that pretty noise again. He let a little liquid dribble out of his mouth and then stroked it back, wetting Peter's crack. Maybe stimulation somewhere else...? He rolled the tip of his finger in, making Peter catch his breath.

When Peter did stiffen, it was sudden, and followed almost immediately by releasing a little bit of liquid so thin that Sirius would have thought it piss, except for the taste, which was wrong for everything. He tried not to make a face as he lifted his head, but he could tell that he had, a little.

"Sorry!" Peter said quickly, at a gasp.

"No, that's what we were going for, right?" Sirius countered. "Just not quite what I'm used to. Was it good?"

"Yeah." Peter bit his lip. "Not like you and James say, but.... Yeah."

"Mm." Sirius looked down to where he was still fondling his own unmistakable erection. "Think you could--" he suggested, undoing his zip. "Since I--"

Peter slid down and took hold of his cock. "'kay," he whispered, and began to pull. Sirius moved his hand back and showed him the rhythm he wanted. It was good -- Peter's warm hand around his cock, rubbing him. Peter's tongue stuck out a little, just like when he was working on a difficult essay. Sirius knew he would do his best, and that was hot. He wondered if Peter would let him fuck him. Could he persuade Peter that it was owed to him? Would Peter let him ride his arse to make up for not getting off properly?

The thought was too much. His blood surged, and crested, and he was roaring out his delight while Peter smiled in relief.

Not bad, Sirius thought, for a first try.



After they left school, and he could do so in privacy, Sirius made a potion that he had read about, but had always been too embarrassed to buy, or to make where someone might figure it out. It was for men had trouble feeling sexual interest, which had never been a problem for him. He had considered not mentioning it to Peter -- that way, he'd never dare try anyone else -- but after four months of having Peter as his personal toy, the fascination was starting to wear off.

He was sitting by the window, tilting the first of the vials in the light, when Peter dashed in, the door banging shut behind him.

"Did you hear? Frank's having a fancy dress party. His whole year is invited, and all of ours, and the one in between!"

"Oh really?" Sirius found his mind filling immediately with costumes. He would go as a pirate -- no, maybe a dragon-tamer. Or a dragon!

"I never know what to do," Peter sighed.

Sirius studied him. He was short, and a bit heavy, but with a soft face and pretty curls. "Go as a girl," he suggested. "You can drop the spells on your voice and show it off, and everyone will think it's a charm."

Peter scowled. "I'm too paunchy."

"Well, you could use a corset. Or, I know! Go as a pregnant girl." He sniggered. "A pregnant Madonna!"

"Sirius!"

"Really. That blue would look gorgeous on you. We'll just darken your hair--"

"I am not going to a fancy dress party as the Virgin Mary!"

"Why not?" Sirius asked, eyes innocently wide.

"Because! It's offensive!" After a long breath, Peter sat back. "My mother's family is Catholic, you know."

"Really? I won't tell."

"You arse!"

Sirius chuckled. "I don't think that's news. Hm. Going further with 'un-disguise is disguise', why don't you go as a eunuch?"

"What sort of eunuch?" Peter said darkly.

"An Arabian slave." Before Peter could protest, Sirius gave him his best wicked smile. "I'll be the harem girl."

Eyes widening, Peter leaned forward. "You wouldn't!"

"Of course I would," Sirius countered, tossing his head. "Wouldn't I look beautiful?"

"You would, you know," Peter said, with a tinge of jealousy in his voice. "You always do, somehow."

"It's a gift," Sirius said airily. He lifted the vial. "Oh, and I have a present for you."

"I'm suspicious," Peter answered.

"Of course you are; you have a little sense." Sirius smirked. "But no need, in this case. It's a potion to increase physical response -- sold largely to married purebloods who are too bent to get it up for their wives, I expect. Anyway, I brewed some for you, now that I have a little privacy. You could give it a try."

"Now?" Peter asked.

"When's the party?"

"Next Saturday."

"Well, then we could try it." Sirius handed the vial to Peter. "But you can only take one course of it -- that's three days -- or it might interfere with your costume. With some men it thickens facial hair."

Peter's mouth scrunched up. "Girls have more facial hair than I do."

"Which is just how we want it for Saturday. Drink up, though. I'll give you another one to take tomorrow afternoon, and then come over for the third on Wednesday, and we'll see how you do with a fuck."



On Wednesday, Sirius was feeling unaccountably nervous. This was Peter -- he wasn't sexy, and he wasn't charming, except for always doing as he was told. Sirius shouldn't worry about whether he'd really enjoy it or not. Still, by the time he heard a knock at his door on Wednesday evening, he changed his robes twice. Peter, he realized with relief, must be just as nervous to bother knocking.

Peter, who generally went along with whatever Sirius wanted to do to him, was strangely twitchy, and his face was flushed.

"All right there, Peter?"

"Yes," Peter said, but his voice was strange. "I wanted to wank yesterday -- wanted to -- but I didn't."

"Oh, well that's a good sign." Sirius thumbed the top off the third vial before handing it to him. "Bottoms up, lad!"

Peter downed the concoction eagerly, and then licked his lips. "And now? Wait, or start?"

He looked like he wanted to start. That was different. Sirius smiled. "Follow me."

He led Peter into the bedroom; they might as well do this properly. Sirius couldn't help thinking that it would in some ways be Peter's first time. At the bed, he leaned back against the mattress, lowering himself to Peter's height, and pulled him in by the arse.

"Would you like a kiss?"

Peter flushed. "We don't usually."

"Mm. But would you like one?"

"Um. Maybe?"

Sirius kissed him. Unsurprisingly, Peter was a bit awkward at it, but not bad, if you allowed for inexperience. Sirius was just wondering when to stop when Peter pressed in closer, and Sirius felt the hard ridge of an erection against his thigh. He twitched back in surprise, looking down. "Oh!"

"Told you it was working," Peter said. He rubbed in circles against Sirius's thigh. "Would you ... something?"

"Mm. Strip first."

Peter obeyed quickly, shedding all his clothes in seconds. His hard cock stood out nearly straight from his hairless groin. It was a strange combination. Sirius found his hand wrapping around it before he thought. "Feel good?" he challenged, pulling slowly.

"Oh, God, yes! Sirius, I never....."

Sirius pushed him away, but only to swing him around and against the bed.

"Lie down," he said. "I'm going to suck you while I lube your arse, and then I'm going to fuck you hard. Got it?"

Wide-eyed, Peter nodded. He pulled himself up on the bed, leaving his legs dangling, and lay back. "Please...."

For answer, Sirius licked up his smooth cock. It twitched against his tongue, and he was laughing slightly as he took it in. Peter was moaning. One of his hands clutched at the duvet, his grip tightening as Sirius stroked lube along his crack. "Oh, you finally get it," Sirius said, lifting his head as he pushed a finger in. Peter's body was trained to this part. The rings of muscle released enough to allow the intrusion. "Not just sort of pleasant."

"God, no! Wow. No wonder you--" Peter's head fell back, his voice stopping as Sirius resumed sucking. He cried out.

Sirius eased up a little as he stretched Peter for a minute longer. Teasing was the way, not satisfying. He didn't want Peter to come too early. When all of his fingertips fit in as a cone, he left off and straightened up, only belatedly noticing that he was still fully dressed.

"What? Sirius...." Peter looked absolutely muddled. Sirius licked his lips.

"Going to fuck you, remember?" he said, freeing his cock and stroking it in emphasis. Peter stared as if he'd never seen it before. Silently, he nodded. Sirius rubbed on lube and then moved forward, keeping his cock in hand and moving it in little circles around Peter's loosened hole.

"I don't know--"

"But you will." Sirius pressed forward, pushing in slowly, and watched whatever reservations Peter had had drain from his mind and face.

"I--" he tried again, but Sirius was far enough in to let go of himself and wrap his hand around Peter's cock instead.

"Yeah?" he teased.

"God."

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Sirius rocked the least bit out and then pushed in again. Peter lifted his legs and tried setting his feet against the edge of the bed, but the angle didn't work. They went around Sirius's back next.

"Shoulders," Sirius suggested, and Peter did that. His head rolled back at the next thrust. Sirius began to thrust in a driving rhythm, and moved his hand to match.

"Going to blow your mind," he promised, just as Peter's cries moved a notch higher. He must have dropped the vocal charm; he did sometimes, when they were alone. Sirius remember him singing, practicing for choir around the dorm. "Yeah," he said. "Feel that. Tell me you like it."

"Like it, like it," Peter chanted. "Want more, Padfoot, God! More! Hard-- uh!"

With a sudden grunt, he came -- just two short spurts the color of whey, but definitely in orgasm, as his voiced wailed like opera, and his arse clenched tight around Sirius's cock. A few short thrusts and Sirius was there, roaring in pleasure over Peter's continuing higher cries.

When he could move from where he had collapsed across Peter -- now uncomfortably arched, with his legs dangling again -- Sirius crawled up and joined him on the bed. "Sing for me," he said.

"What?"

Sirius smiled at him. "I can tell you've dropped the charm. Sing. I know you still practice."

Nervously, Peter sat up. After a few awkward tests of his voice, he sang. It was something in Latin, of which Sirius could catch fewer than half the words, but words weren't really the point. The notes soared.



They spent most of Thursday and Friday evenings working on costumes. The potion didn't seem to have made Peter any more masculine in three days, but Sirius still withheld it.

Saturday afternoon, Sirius treated his hair with perfumed oil, washed it out lightly, and brushed it until it shone. Only when that was done to his satisfaction did he shed his dark robes and change to voluminous pants of thin blue silk, bra-like triangles of a more opaque purple silk that suggested breasts he didn't have, and a sheer blue top over that to enhance the illusion. He painted his cheeks and outlined his eyes in thick black kohl, and after brushing his hair again, pulled up the top layer and bound it back in cords of silver.

Observing himself in the mirror, he was quite satisfied. He wouldn't pass for a girl -- not exactly -- but it was a credible working of the image.

He was coloring his toenails -- he had decided to go barefoot; they'd Floo anyway -- and belatedly worrying that Peter would be too ridiculously short for his role, when Peter arrived. Sirius was surprised to open the door and find Peter's eyes almost directly in front of his own.

"Did you learn a growing spell?"

Peter pulled up his loose pants to show the cuffs at the ankle, and thick-soled boots below them. What appeared to be the curled toes of his shoes were just tied on to the front. "Boots," he said.

"Excellent." Sirius grinned. He transfigured his winter cloak into a thick burqa and wrapped it around himself. "Let's go."



"Excuse me," Frank said, as Sirius stepped out of the fireplace. "Nothing that obscures your face, please."

"Oh, I know," Sirius said, forcing his voice high as he unwound the thick fabric. "It was just for travel. I am Flower of the Moon, concubine to the Sultan, and this is my faithful servant, Ahmed, who has helped me slip out of the palace."

On cue, Peter crossed his arms across his chest and looked stern.

Frank laughed. "Oh, excellent!" He bowed. "Welcome to the British sector, my lady. I am sure you will find adequate entertainment for the evening."



"Fab costume, Sirius," Remus commented, almost in passing, except that he didn't continue past.

"Do you think so?" Sirius asked, fluttering his eyelashes at him, and Remus laughed, not quite easily.

"Absolutely. And Peter's is brilliant." Remus glanced over to where Peter was carefully pouring a stout at the drink table "Though-- Did you talk him into that?"

"Who else?"

"How?"

"By promising to be a harem girl, of course." Sirius posed with his arms up and rolled his hips, and Remus's laugh got a little bit higher.

"I've never figured that out, you know -- you and Peter."

Sirius shrugged, letting his arms drop. "He's cooperative and I'm protective. Other than that, we're just friends."

"Other than that and some shagging, I believe."

"Friends with benefits, sometimes. Nothing more."

"I thought you might be taken."

Sirius dipped his eyelashes and smiled. "Not at all."

"Hey!" came a voice, and James was there, cheery and brash. "Who's the bird, Remus?" he needled, and Sirius turned towards him. James sputtered.

"Can't you tell?" Sirius asked archly.

"Sirius!"

"What? Aren't I pretty?"

"You...." James blew out a breath. "Merlin."

"Convincing?"

"Until I saw your rough mug, yeah."

"Hm." Sirius stepped closer. "I'm usually considered beautiful."

James snorted, just a second too late. "By middle-aged shopkeepers, maybe."

"Oh, really?" Sirius moved closer. He was thrilled and disappointed to see James step back.

"Look...."

"Step apart!" Peter demanded, swiping a scimitar down between them. "Lady! If my master finds you were out, unveiled, it will be worth my life!"

Sirius turned, and for a moment, his focus narrowed to just Peter, posing importantly in his elaborately ornamented costume. "I could make your inattention worth more than your life," he purred, and Peter's face froze in a gormless longing that was all his own. Sirius almost felt sorry for him.

"But I must....."

"Get me home safe?" Sirius questioned seductively, hanging off his arm. "I'm certain you will. You're far more of a man than our doddering master, Ahmed."

"James, what are you do--" Lily stopped in the middle of the sentence. "Peter?"

"And Sirius," James pushed.

"Oh!"

"Oh, Pads," James said suddenly, "Moody said to reapply."

Sirius snorted. "What? Enough people have died that they're interested in me, now?"

"Yeah, well...." James shrugged. "We need good people, and when I mentioned you again, Moody let slip that the main problem with your application was that someone had advised that you might abuse your authority. He'd wanted to give you some time out of school to see if you'd grown up. I told him you had."

Sirius heated with anger. "I'll consider it," he growled.

Lily tapped him on the nose. "Now, now, dear," she admonished. "Ladylike."

And then everyone laughed, and things were okay again.



Sirius fell into talking with James and Lily, and Peter began to drift away, a step at a time, chatting with other people. Sirius recognized most of them, but not all. A slender girl in a sari asked Peter if he'd be her porter, making him laugh. Sirius couldn't see her face, but Evan Rosier was with her, and glaring.

Sirius went looking for Frank. He found him playing a game of hexes with his girlfriend, Alice, and someone slighter older. Frank's first spell sizzled in the yellow ring, but the second and third lit up the black.

"Yes?" Frank asked, as he stepped back to let Alice take her turn.

"All these Slytherins," Sirius whispered. "Why are they here? You know about Rosier."

Frank nodded. Rosier was a Death Eater; the Order of the Phoenix was sure of it, even if the Aurors weren't. "I want to keep an eye on them," he said. "They know that, of course. They probably think they can turn it to their advantage."

Sirius looked back at Peter. He was still talking with Rosier and the girl. "Do we know who she is?" he asked.

Frank laughed. "Didn't you look?"

"I didn't see her face."

"Ha! Well, let's say you're not the only man in drag, here." Frank sniggered. "And he's better at walking like a girl than you are."

Horrified, Sirius looked back, evaluating size and build. "Tell me that's not Snape."

"I never lie to a comrade."

"Damn it! What does Peter think he's doing?"

Peter was easy enough to cut away from Rosier and Snape -- he stepped clear of them as soon as he saw Sirius coming. It was later in the evening, when Sirius was returning from the loo, that he saw Rosier speaking to Peter again. Peter looked uncomfortable, and Sirius swept up for a rescue.

"Ahmed," he cooed, taking Peter's arm. "We must return to the palace before the Sultan finds me missing!"

Peter patted his arm reassuringly. "He will not know, my lady. I will see to it. We will be safe for another hour."

Rosier smirked. Sirius widened his eyes, which had narrowed of their own accord. Rosier was plotting something, and he needed to get Peter away from it. He leaned close to Peter's ear and whispered.

"I want you to fuck me."

Peter stiffened. His grip tightened.

"I have more potion," Sirius added enticingly.

"'Scuse us," Peter muttered to Rosier, and let Sirius lead him away to the Floo.



They tumbled out in Sirius's flat, and Sirius handed Peter a vial from the mantel.

"Why?" Peter asked, downing it.

"Because you're a very bad slave," Sirius teased, "and isn't that what bad slaves do? Fuck their master's unfaithful wives and concubines?"

"You're getting into this Arabian Nights thing, aren't you?" Peter said breathlessly.

"Try again," Sirius urged. He posed. "Woe! My life is misery, for my master is an old man with many wives and cannot satisfy me as I crave."

"How inexcusably thoughtless of him," Peter answered. "Is there anything I can do, oh my beauteous one, to alleviate your suffering?"

Sirius pressed close to him. "If you are not unable to perform as a man in pleasure...." Managing a little squeal, he drew his hand up Peter's thigh to grope him through his robes. "As I can feel you are not...."

Peter cried out and scrambled to open his sash.

"That," he said, grabbing Sirius by the wrist and pushing his hand under the fabric. "More."

Sirius didn't try to tease him back into character this time. He laughed, letting his voice drop low, as he gripped Peter's erection, skin to skin. "Didn't take you long to develop a taste for this." His own cock, bound back to not show a line through the silk, had hardened as much as it could in that position, and was starting to ache.

"No."

"I'll make more for you," Sirius promised. Of course, he thought, as he pushed down Peter's loose trousers, he could teach Peter to make it himself. But for now, he would keep the control. He wouldn't like Peter as much with hair, he thought.

Belatedly, Peter started to work the waistband of the harem girl trousers down. He paused, confused, when a swipe across Sirius's abdomen found nothing. "What did...?"

"Check lower," Sirius suggested, and Peter did.

"Oh! Does it hurt?"

"Not exactly. Yet."

"Get it out." Peter licked his lips. "I want to see. While you're still dressed like that."

Nodding, Sirius release the binding spell, and his cock straightened and hardened in a few painful seconds. "Like this?" he asked throatily, stroking a few times down the length. Peter bit his lip and nodded. Sirius let go and knelt on the couch, gripping the back and smiling over his shoulder at Peter. "Getting any ideas?"

"Yeah," Peter whispered. He moved forward and leaned into Sirius's back, his erection striking far too high. With a charm, he unfastened his boots and came back on target, pressing his cock into Sirius's crack and rubbing slowly, awaking every nerve there.

Sirius moaned. "God, Peter, I-- stop."

Peter froze. "Stop?" he returned, a bit sharply.

"I -- Lube." Sirius wasn't about to move and risk disrupting this. He Summoned lube from the bedroom and passed it back to Peter. "There. I... You're not too big, but I haven't...."

"Say it as the girl," Peter urged, resuming his frottage, now wet and slick.

"Oh please! I burn to feel you inside me, but it has been so very long! Be gentle, sweet, I beg of you."

Peter giggled, and Sirius nearly strained his throat trying not to laugh himself, but then there was a finger working inside him with a little rocking motion, and he had to breathe to loosen around the scratchy feeling.

"Okay?"

"Good. More."

"So soon?"

"Yeah. More."

He had expected a second finger, but it was something smoother that pressed at his hole, gradually stretching him open.

"Too much?"

"No, just -- just slow like that. Merlin!"

"Not always a bad thing, then, having a small prick?" Peter ventured.

"Just about perfect, in this case," Sirius assured him, pushing back a little. "More.... Oh. Like that. Fuck."

Peter pushed the loose jacket up, sliding the silk up Sirius's back before finally pulling it off. Keeping it in his hand, he reached around to grab his cock. The soft fabric slid along it beautifully. He began to rock, moving his hand in time to his thrusts.

Sirius stopped trying to talk. Every time a man had buggered him had been quick, but Peter seemed able to keep it up indefinitely. He set up a slow, easy rock, and just stayed there. Perhaps there was no pressure with nothing building up in his balls. Eventually, Sirius speculated, it would hurt, but for now, it was brilliant.

Gradually, their motions became less coordinated. It was Sirius, first, who needed it faster, and started to push back, forcing Peter to pick up the pace. That did something to him, because his hand fell behind the rhythm, and the silk bunched and then fell.

"Harder," Sirius commanded.

"Yeah? Was this what you needed?"

"Yes."

Peter laughed. Sirius was determined to make him come first. He clenched and relaxed his arse, and catalogued the primary runes in his head to hold himself back. Still Peter went on, maddeningly deliberate.

"You feel so good," Peter murmured. "Sometimes I felt like you took advantage of me, but now I can't imagine how you didn't take me like this all the time, when you knew I wouldn't try to get out of it."

Imaginary runes shattered and spun away into nothing. Sirius pictured trapping Peter in his bed in Gryffindor. Of course I'll cast the charm for you, he said coolly, once I've got my morning fuck, and Peter bit his lip and pushed his covers down.

The image was too much. He was coming, hard, Peter's even rock finally growing jerky behind him as Sirius spasmed around his cock. His hand dropped, and he gripped the sofa back beside Sirius and began to really hammer in.

"Do this for you any time," Peter panted. "You're perfect, perfect--" The words turned into a rising cry, and Sirius rolled his hips to extend it a few more seconds.

Peter's body wasn't much, Sirius thought, as Peter collapsed limply on him. A little pudgy, a little short in the staff, and requiring potions for that short length to be of any use. No one would understand why Sirius bothered, certainly, because Sirius was beautiful, and Peter was not. His beauty was all hidden in his obscured voice.

Peter had a voice like an angel, whether in perfect song, or rising out of control as he strove with new pleasures. Sirius liked knowing that was for him alone.