Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: celandineb
From: A Wicked Watcher: ceredwen

Title: Quid Pro Quo
Characters/Pairings: Sirius/Remus
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Included: rimming, watersports, light bit of spanking (one little swat)
Other Warnings: swearing, frotting, masturbation
Word Count: 3230
Summary/Description: Sirius makes a discovery that leads to the sharing of fantasies.
Author's Notes: The bargaining theme comes straight from an amazing fic at rs_games 2009 called Undone (Team Canon) written by duck_or_rabbit, as does the attention to balls, though I played with the theme a bit differently. I hope this pleases the person who submitted the prompt. Instead of one giving the other their kinkiest fantasy, they kind of made it happen for each other. I couldn't quite manage the BDSM so I offered rimming instead. Hope that's alright. Major thanks to my beta A, who should really get paid for listening to me whine.



Remus had always loved to watch Sirius piss. It had started in fourth year, that magical year when Remus became aware of Sirius in a whole new way. James’ family had been fairly conservative, meaning he had been tolerant of Sirius' lack of embarrassment with his own nudity in the beginning. However, once pubic hair had made its patchy arrival, James had put his foot down. Of course, the arrival of pubic hair also meant the arrival of hormones, hence Remus' startling new awareness. Rotten time for the nudity to go away, all things considered.

This meant of course the only time Remus could get a decent look at Sirius, Sirius had either been showering or pissing. Remus wasn’t sure why it was the pissing that was so much more alluring. Maybe it was the confident way Sirius planted his feet in front of the urinal, or the fact that he had his cock in his hand. Remus doesn‘t know. All he really knew was that he loved to watch and he had to be careful about it.

He did try to puzzle it out. In the end, the only conclusion he could come to was that it had something to do with the wolf. Wolves marked their territory with piss, and Remus had really wanted to be part of Sirius’ territory.

Which he was now, many years later and after school was over. Only that little ugly desire to watch Sirius take his piss had never quite gone away. They share a flat together, a bedroom, and a life. Remus has always kept this secret from Sirius, too afraid to have it all evaporate in the light of such a disgusting want. Remus wishes he could simply banish the fantasy, but he can't, and so has taken a page out of James and Sirius' playbook, charming a mirror in the bathroom and a handheld so that he might watch Sirius pee without ever having him become the wiser.

Now, Sirius rather enjoys a lie-in. Not so with Remus, who is an early to bed, early to rise sort. This suits him just fine. Especially when he considers that the first thing Sirius does every morning is roll out of bed and lumber into the bathroom. Remus, sitting at their little kitchen table, mirror in hand, enjoys the sight of the warm, yellow stream pouring out of Sirius, his head tipped back and groaning with relief. Once, Remus had dripped a little warm tea in his lap, just to see what it might feel like. That was a mistake, because now more than ever he wants the real thing.

After that morning at the kitchen table and the tea, his fantasizing takes on a life of its own. Sirius has a genuine love for mutual masturbation. Remus knows that Sirius loves to watch him touch his own cock, and cup his low hanging testicles, kneading each one gently between thumb and forefinger, giving little tugs to hold off the eruption. Sirius always stands, stroking and watching, ready to cover Remus in his essence, and Remus loves it because he pretends that Sirius is pissing. The confident open stance, the way he holds his cock - all of it only helps to further the fantasy along.

He imagines he can feel the yellow warmth from Sirius, and to him it becomes the embodiment of an act so intimate, so sharing, that eventually he loses the stigma in his mind. He knows this is just how he wants it; he wants to be on the bed, just like this, wants to feel the wet fall over him and into every crevice, even wants to feel it cool on the bed beneath his legs and to smell its pungency.

It always ends the same, which is to say no pissing, not that he’s disappointed. How could he be with Sirius for a lover? But each time he is that much closer to asking for what he’s been dreaming of. In the end though, he doesn't have to ask at all.

It is close to Christmas and they are tree decorating; the tall Balsam Fir reaches up almost to the ceiling and the fragrance permeates the whole house, cheering and freshening, and bringing Remus to mind of the holidays with every breath. Sirius is about to hang an ornament, but he stops mid motion to look at something. He lays the ornament down and walks over to one of the many bookshelves in their home, cocking his head curiously at something. He picks it up.

"Where did this come from?" he asks, turning the object over in his hand. "And why can't I see myself in it, I wonder?"

Remus realizes with horror that Sirius has found his mirror.

"Odd, I can only see into the bathroom, the view seems to be from that weirdly placed mirror you put by the toilet."

Remus has no words. He does try, working his mouth in a futile attempt at an explanation, or an evasion, or a lie. Nothing comes out but a strange gurgling noise, like the dying of a fish on the banks of a river. Sirius turns that invasive, penetrating gaze on him and his imagination decides that Sirius can see right into his brain, into all of the filthy fantasies he's had.

"This is yours, isn't it?" continues Sirius, sounding out the words slowly as he puzzles this problem through logically. "Which means that-" Full stop. The gaze is no longer penetrating, it knows, knows everything, without Legilimency and without even asking. Logic demands that Sirius understand.

"You watch me... piss? Remus, why?"

"I wanted you for so long," says Remus miserably, voice soft and quiet, and his eyes unable to meet Sirius’ gaze. "I never thought you'd... so that was how it started. I suppose I let it get a little out of hand."

"What-" Sirius swallows. "What do you do, you know, when you watch?"

"What do you think I do?" snaps Remus, feeling cornered, hating this conversation, certain this is the beginning of the end.

"Oh." Sirius is quiet for a moment, and then he shrugs. "All you had to was ask. I would have thought it was weird, but not so much so that I would have objected. After all we've done together, you ought to know that."

Remus turns his head up slowly to look at Sirius who is peering curiously into the mirror, untroubled.

"Just like that?" asks Remus flatly, disbelieving.

"Sure, it isn't as though you want me to piss on you, or anything."

Remus turns his head away too quickly.

"Oh... boy," says Sirius lamely. They are both quiet for a moment, the tree forgotten in the shadow of new information.

"You aren't the only one with desires you don't know how to put to words," says Sirius finally, breaking the silence. Remus whips his head around so fast the joints in his neck pop loudly. This is not what he had expected.

"Is this a joke?" he asks warily.

Sirius puts the mirror down, walks over to Remus and takes the ornament out of his hand, then grasps Remus' wrist, tugging him toward the bedroom, grin cocky and tossed over his shoulder. "I know you'd love to talk this to death, but I think this is the sort of thing you resolve by doing. Call it Christmas come early."

Remus has no idea what Sirius could possibly want, nor does he care. He is about to get his fantasy fulfilled; he'll happily do whatever Sirius wants. Once inside their bedroom, Sirius pushes him up against the door and claims his mouth aggressively. One hand on Remus’ hip steadies him, pins him, while Sirius’ pelvis presses their cocks together with an aching slowness, so different from the tongue in his mouth that is anything but gentle.

“So how does it work, Moony,” murmurs Sirius, gritty and low in his ear. “Do you wank while I piss?”

Remus understands Sirius perfectly, but can’t recall any words of his own to use in reply, so he just grunts and nods, his cock rocking against Sirius’ in an involuntary grind. He’s got no choice here, can only respond while the Pied Piper plays his flute. Their mouths meet again, tongues sliding smooth and slick in each other’s mouths as hands begin divesting each other of clothes.

“What do you want, Pads?” asks Remus breathlessly, his chest exposed with the shirt undone and his trousers hanging open. “You never said.”

“I,” says Sirius, breath hot in his ear, “want to feel your tongue on my arse. Can you do that for me, Moony?”

“Anything,” whispers Remus, and reaches around to grab Sirius’ arse, pulling him in closer to rut against him needily. Sirius is hard, too hard to piss, Remus realizes, so he abruptly turns the tables on Sirius.

“In fact,” says Remus, stepping away from the wall and pushing Sirius with his whole body toward the bed, “You first.”

Sirius, never a dullard in the bedroom, catches on and walks backward, slowly loosening his belt, then lowering the zip. His gaze never leaves Remus in an unequivocal ‘come hither’ look with hooded lids and heavy bedroom eyes. By the time he gets to the bed and falls back on it he is kicking the trousers off and then removes his pants.

“Turn over,” says Remus, his voice low and almost failing him. The sight of Sirius hard and ready for him always has that effect. He’s never done this before, but it isn’t like he’s never thought of it.

Sirius turns slowly, head thrown over his shoulder to watch Remus’ approach, cock and balls hanging heavy and proud between his spread legs. Remus loses his clothes as he closes the distance between them, running his hands over Sirius’ arse and then up his back. Sirius presses back against his hands and lets out a low sigh.

“Scourgify,” whispers Remus, wandlessly giving Sirius a quick cleaning that makes him yelp and jerk forward.

“Bit of a warning next time, yeah?” he growls.

“Sorry,” says Remus, smirking.

To soothe, he covers Sirius’ back with his body, his own cock sliding between Sirius' legs. The thin skin of Sirius’ sac seizes; Remus can feel the slight tightening as he drops a kiss between broad shoulder blades. Sirius releases a small sigh and presses back. Another kiss from Remus, lower, and then another, all along the pebbles of Sirius’ spine.

“You bloody romantic, get on with it,” grumbles Sirius.

To answer, Remus gives Sirius’ bottom a sound swat.

“You always want to go so fast,” admonishes Remus. “Let me enjoy you.”

At the base of Sirius’ spine is a small tuft of dark down heralding the split between his cheeks. Remus draws back to press his lips there, letting the soft fluff tickle his lips and then follows the cleft with his tongue, using his hands to open and spread Sirius to his gaze.

The puckered ring, nestled deep in Sirius’ crevice, contracts slightly with the exposure to the cool bedroom air. Remus blows a gentle puff of warm air there, and Sirius moans low in his throat. He feels slightly intimidated to start, so he presses a few kisses to the inner flesh of Sirius’ cheeks. Remus then takes a breath to steady himself and then runs his tongue along the faint ripple around the ring. There is a slight tang to the taste but not unpleasant. Sirius’ body tenses as though electrified and jerks back forcing the flat of Remus’ tongue over the hole.

“Oh, fuck,” says Sirius. “Remus, touch me, please.”

Remus raises his head for a moment to look at Sirius. His line of sight rises over firm, round buttocks, and runs up along a lean, well muscled back draped with shiny black locks. The muscles in Sirius’ arms stand out starkly, tensed, the fingers in both hands gripping the sheet so hard the knuckles are white.

“Don’t stop,” he says. “Please don’t stop.”

Remus spits into one of his hands, and then reaches between Sirius’ legs, fingers running along the ridge of his sac, then follows up the shaft to the tip. Sirius writhes below him, moaning wantonly, hips rutting into Remus' hand. Remus presses his face back into Sirius’ arse and takes another swipe with his tongue, licking the pucker as he strokes rhythmically. Sirius is anything but still, moving in desperate tandem with Remus’ ministrations. Remus cannot imagine doing this for anyone else, but the sounds that Sirius is making, the gasps, the sighs, the pleading, make it all worth it. That and knowing what is coming for him.

They have always been able to do this, explore new territory with each other. Years of friendship and then of love allow for this openness, even if it does sometimes take them awhile to express their wants. They are still men, and being vulnerable takes practice. Practice they don’t always have time for, in a world that grows more dangerous by the hour.

“Merlin, Moony,” moans Sirius. He is trembling as he speaks, and then his front goes down, arms too shaky to support him. Remus has to adjust and in the process, the tip of his tongue presses a little too hard, entering Sirius. He begins to rock back on Remus’ wet tongue, and fuck if that isn’t hot as hell to Remus. With one hand, Remus grips Sirius’ arse tight, with the other, he strokes him faster, Sirius fucking himself on Remus’ tongue, moaning and swearing into the sheets.

“Moony, I can’t- I’m going-” and then Remus feels it, the hot semen pouring over his hand as Sirius comes.

Remus draws away, breathless, hard, as Sirius collapses to the bed below. Remus lays beside him, catching the breath he couldn’t afford between Sirius’ cheeks.

“That was,” says Sirius, pausing to gulp air, “amazing, the most amazing thing I have ever felt.”

“Alright for a first time, then?” asks Remus, trying to keep the smug out of his tone and failing beautifully.

Sirius doesn’t answer outright, just nods as he catches his breath and Remus is pretty sure he was shot an annoyed glance. He is staring at ceiling, smirking, thinking anything that got Sirius to beg and plead like that was worth repeating, and soon.

Beside him Sirius groans and stirs, the muscles in his abdomen contracting as he pulls himself to a sitting position, and then ambling to his feet.

“Got to piss,” he says, headed for the bathroom.

Remus coughs and chuckles.

“Oh, right,” says Sirius, who has clearly forgotten his part in this bargain. He pauses and then scratches at the back of his head. Remus can see the hesitation, so he starts to stroke his cock, take the lead, and hope that Sirius will follow without too many questions.

“Tell me how it works, Moony,” says Sirius, moving to stand in front of him. “How did your fantasies start?”

Remus doesn’t really want to explain it, that it was an organic thing that grew out of teenage obsession and unrequited love. He hadn’t the courage to tell Sirius how he felt until seventh year, and they had a very rocky start. This just wasn’t the sort of thing you brought up when your partner was just coming to terms with his sexuality.

“I told you already,” he snarls, giving Sirius a look that says ‘this is not part of my fantasy’. The chastised look on Sirius’ face, though, has him regretting his hasty words. “I wanted you, Sirius. I wanted you for so long, and it seemed the only way I could have you was to watch when I shouldn’t, in your private moments. It isn’t a humiliation thing, me wanting this. I can’t even really explain it.”

Sirius chuckles then and Remus glowers at him.

“I meant where do you want it, you big girl.”

Oh.

“My cock, while I toss off,” he replies, doing just that, a thrill of anticipation tingling.

“Anywhere else?” asks the other, planting his feet in that confident way from Remus’ fantasies.

“Wherever I tell you, Padfoot, can we get started?” he snaps impatiently.

“Sure thing,” says Sirius. Without anymore preamble than that, he starts.

Remus wasn’t entirely expecting, half-believing they would spend the next eight hours discussing the damn thing, not doing. So when a golden arc of liquid rises out of Sirius’ cock, Remus finds his breath caught in his throat.

It is so different from the tea, the feel of it, the force behind it, as is the trajectory. It didn’t occur to him that such small changes would matter, but it does, it is so much better than the tea.

When the piss does finally hit his cock, he moans low and greedy. It splatters everywhere to start, droplets bouncing from his cock and hand onto his chest and stomach. Gravity pulls the liquid down, over his balls and between his cheeks, slowly soaking the bed beneath him. It is everything he wanted it to be.

The smell is sharp in his nose, and much as he suspected, the wolf is pleased. He has never felt more like Sirius’, marked, his genitals claimed in the most primal way possible.

“You really like that don’t you?” rumbles Sirius.

“Keep talking,” says Remus, a note of pleading in his tone.

“Like to feel my piss, don’t you Moony? Want to get covered in it, you naughty, kinky werewolf.”

Sirius gets playful and paints a stripe up his chest, first to one nipple and then the other. Remus gasps at the feel, hot and amazing and Sirius. The fact that Sirius would do this, stand there and piss for him, piss on him, and for no other reason than Remus had asked, is an unbelievable turn on.

Sirius takes a step closer as the stream starts to lose its steam.

“Come on, Remus,” encourages Sirius. “You’re close, I can see it, go on and let it go. Can you get it on me, do you think?”

And then, that is all Remus wants to do, all that is important, mark Sirius as he himself has been marked. His hand flies furiously, anxiously, piss flying all over with every stroke. He looks between Sirius, beautiful Sirius, and his own cock- quick, furtive, needy glances.

“That’s right, come on, Remus,” says Sirius, taking yet another step closer so that not a drop is missed.

“Oh, fuck!” Remus exclaims. His balls constrict and tighten, and then he’s coming and ohgod! The pleasure is so intense, so powerful, tears form in the corners of his eyes as he comes, shooting a pair of thick white stripes that land on his lover as he shouts out Sirius’ name.

The bed is soaked beneath him, but he doesn’t care, falling back on it in sheer exhaustion. Sirius takes a few steps forward and leans over, one knee pressed into the wet bed, and softly kisses Remus' cheek.

“So, fantasy fulfilled?” he asks quietly, his smile small but genuine, and very loving.

Remus reaches up, pulling Sirius close, thanking him without words. When he pulls away, he nods.

***