Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: rilla_licious
From: lilmisblack

Title: Of Alcohol and Resolutions
Characters/Pairings: James/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: Infidelity, semi-public sex
Other Warnings/Content: Oral, dirty talk, excessively long sentences.
Word Count: 2250
Summary/Description: I was drunk, and randy, and frustrated, and pissed, and so bloody sick of watching James and Lily all over each other. So I made the most stupid New Year Resolution in the history of the wizarding kind.



I tap my fingers against the sticky bar and wait for the barman to pour me another drink. He’s talking to one of the birds at the other end of the bar. I clear my throat, then push the empty glass forward when he looks up. It takes him a few seconds too long to walk over and refill, and I ignore the look he gives me when does. Last thing I need is a judgemental barman, and if he’s thinking of cutting me off he’s in for a treat. My hexes are good regardless of my state of sobriety. My mood, on the other hand…

A burst of laughter makes me look up from my drink, my eyes automatically searching the reflection on the mirror. Because even from across the room, through the loud music, I can somehow hear and recognise that laughter.

My eyes finally settle on them. Moony’s there with some of his co-workers, celebrating something I’m sure he mentioned but I can’t quite remember, Peter is attempting to flirt with Lily’s friends, who seem to be trying their best to smile politely and inch away, and Lily’s there, as well, resting back against James, smiling as he whispers something into her ear and pulls her closer.

I try not to scowl as I look away. I empty my glass in one long gulp and smack it against the bar just a little too hard. I motion the barman for another. I’ll have to go back soon, it’s been some twenty minutes since I came over for a quick drink; I don’t want them to think I’m being ‘antisocial’ or some other shite like that. But I can’t think clearly with them around, and I need to make up my mind about this. There’s not that much time left, only three days before New Year.

It’s all my own fault, I know, but that doesn’t make it any better. I may not like it, but I am a Black, and a Black always keeps his word. Even if that word was given only to himself. Stupid family, stupid rules, bloody stupid traditions. Whoever had invented New Year Resolutions should die a slow, painful death. Preferably by bowtruckle bites. That ought to be painful enough.

I kept my Resolution when I was a firstie at Hogwarts, hated by Slytherins for being a Gryffindor, and by everyone else for being a Black. That year I decided I would somehow make friends. I wrote the words down, cast the spell, burnt the roll of parchment, and kept my word. It wasn’t easy, but I did it. The same happened a few years later, when I realised Moony was hiding something from us, and later still when I decided we would find a way to be around him on the full moon. I made a Resolution, wrote it down, cast the spell, burnt it up. Yada, yada, yada.

In a way, most of my life had been shaped by those resolutions, those hours just before the new year began, when I decided what in my life needed changing, and I set out to do it. It was because of a resolution that I had my friends, was out of my parents’ house, severed ties with my family, and joined the Order of the Phoenix.

Then last year…well, last year we threw a party, a wild one, lots of booze -the good kind, not the cheap stuff we were used to-, birds, blokes, probably one or two lust spells thrown around for good measure, dim lights, loud music. By the end of the night I’d been drunk, and randy, and frustrated, and pissed, and so bloody sick of watching James and Lily all over each other. Somehow I managed to stumble into one of the bedrooms on the top floor, an empty one, thankfully, and found parchment and ink. Then I made the most stupid New Year Resolution in the history of the wizarding kind. I will fuck James Potter.

I’m still not sure what made me do it. I’m attracted to him, sure, how could I -or anyone, for that matter- not be? He’s tall, and fit, and handsome, and smart, and charming, and fun, and sexy as all fuck, and under any other circumstances I would’ve charmed my way into his pants long ago without a second thought. But he’s also my best friend, and straight as far as I know, and in love with his little bird, and giving him a tumble would be risking too much. Which is why I never attempted it before. But that night I wrote the words, I cast the spell, I burnt the parchment. And just like that I got myself into one hell of a mess. Because keeping my Resolution could mean losing what mattered to me the most, and not keeping it… well, could I really afford losing my magic for an entire lunar cycle in the midst of a war?

So that Resolution left me fucked, and not in a good way. I’ve been putting it off all year, but now there’s only three days left, and I still don’t know what I should do.

I look back up at the mirror to buy myself some time, and notice everyone’s gone except for him. He meets my eyes through the reflection and motions for me to come over. So much for thinking time.

I gulp down my drink, order two bottles of that new Irish brew James said he wanted to try and cross the room towards him.

“Where’s your better half?”

“Ran off with her friends and Moony’s workmates to some other club,” he says. “Moony was worried you might be too pissed to Apparate home by yourself, and apparently I’m the only one that could be trusted to drag your arse back to your place.”

By the look of him, he’s probably as pissed as I am. “Maybe, but not just yet,” I say. I hand him one of the bottles. He eyes it for a moment, then shrugs and takes a swig. He cringes. “Damn, this tastes awful.” I have to agree.

I move to stand next to him, rest back against the column, and watch the people in the bar as I drink. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“Looks like you got an admirer,” he says, with a smirk, and I follow his gaze to find a tall, lanky wizard standing a few yards away, looking straight at me. He smiles when he sees me looking, then lifts the bottle he’s holding up to his lips and takes a long drink, his eyes never leaving mine, his mouth wrapping around the neck of the bottle just a little too long. I smile, wink at him and look away.

“Been there, done that,” I say. James splutters.

“You… he’s… you’ve…”

“I’ve…?” I ask, trying not to laugh.

“You and him?” he asks. I smirk and turn sideways, so I’m looking at him. I raise an eyebrow, half in question, half in amusement.

“I just,” he says, now trying to sound nonchalant, “I didn’t know you were into… wizards.”

“Haven’t you heard the rumours? I’ll fuck anything with a pulse…”

“You never said-”

“Didn’t I?” I shrug. I don’t often indulge, it’s usually birds that catch my eye, but when I find something I like, I take it, regardless of the gender. And perhaps the reason I never said anything is because I didn’t want James knowing, I didn’t want him thinking, I didn’t want him wondering, and looking at me more closely, and noticing just how closely I was looking back. But tonight, well, I guess I just don’t care that much anymore. Maybe it’s time he knew.

I look sideways, smile at the wizard again, watch him lick his lips. “He did have a wonderful mouth,” I say, and when I turn back to James I see he’s watching him, too. “Birds are fine and all, but you’ve never been sucked properly until you’ve fucked a man’s mouth,” I say. His eyes widen just a bit more, his cheeks look a little flushed. I can’t help but smirk. It might be because of the alcohol, but I’m suddenly finding all this extremely amusing. “It’s hard to explain, it’s just… different. To feel those chapped lips around your cock, the scratch of stubble against your skin. They hold you tighter, suck you harder, know just how much pressure you can handle.” I lean closer to James, until I’m talking right into his ear.

“And the fucking,” I say, and he shivers at the word. “You’ve no idea what it’s like, to slide your cock alongside another.” My voice is deep, my words slow, perhaps a little slurred. I lean closer still, rest my leg against his, check for his reaction. He’s frozen in place, pointedly not looking at me. But he clearly has no intention of moving away. “To be able to shove someone against the wall and fuck them with all your strength.” I slide my leg up, and I can feel just how hard he is. His hips tilt forward ever so slightly. He gulps. “To feel muscles tense beneath you, rough hands grabbing and pulling and bruising.”

I press my leg a little more firmly against his cock, and feel his hips buck. His eyes snap to my face. “Sirius, what…” he mutters.

“To be able to push someone around, hold him down and fuck him as hard as you want, knowing they can take it, that they crave it.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. He rests his head back and closes his eyes. He gulps again. I love watching him so close to losing control. I reach forward and cup his cock. “Don’t,” he whispers, but makes no move to stop me. “Sirius, I can’t…” I tighten my fingers around it, and he moans.

“And the feel of a cock inside you,” I continue, pressing against him a little harder when I feel him thrust slowly against my hand, “You can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“Fuck,” he says again, when I move my hand away. But it’s only to undo his trousers and slide my fingers inside. He curses again, shakes his head, mutters Lily’s name, trying to come up with some excuse. But he doesn’t try to stop me, doesn’t want to, so I don’t.

“To feel someone overpower you,” I whisper, as I stroke him and thrust my hips against his side. “To feel a cock push inside of you, hard, and fast, and so deep. To be fucked within an inch of your life.”

He groans and tilts his hips forward, wanting more. I don’t give him time to react, I push him back until we’re between the column and the wall, hidden in the shadows, and then I push his trousers and pants down and kneel before him. I waste no time.

I wrap my lips around his cock and take him whole, then tease him with a little teeth as I pull back. He curses, then curses some more, but his hips are jerking as he pushes his cock deeper. I stop moving, relax my throat and let him fuck my mouth, showing him just what I’d meant moments earlier. He catches on fast, a second later he’s buried his hands in my hair, pulling me forward to meet his every thrust, and my eyes water as I try to keep on breathing and take him in.

But I don’t try to stop it, I don’t want to, I love watching him lose control, I love finally having him, even if it’s only because he’s drunk, even if I’ll probably have hell to pay in the morning.

I can feel he’s close. I reach up and push my fingers into his mouth, and he latches on without a second thought. I move my hand in rhythm with his cock, loving the feel of his lips around my fingers, his tongue swirling and teasing. I reach down with my other hand and pull out my cock. I’m so hard it fucking hurts.

When I’m sure my fingers are good and wet I pull them out of his mouth, loving the way his lips tighten to hold them in, and reach between his legs. I push a finger inside him and hear him gasp. When I twist it just right and brush his prostate he curses and thrusts faster into my mouth. Then his hands tighten in my hair as he pulls my head closer, forcing me to take him all the way in. He comes, and I come, and it lasts forever and is over so fast, all at the same time.

I look up at him, and find him looking at me, too. I lean back slowly, let his cock slip from my mouth, and smile. I lick my lips, catching a few stray drops of come. He groans. Then he tightens his hand on my hair and roughly pulls me to my feet, and the next second he’s kissing me, forcing his tongue into my mouth, tasting himself in every crevice, moaning and taking over, kissing me until we’re both out of breath.

Finally he breaks the kiss, licking my lips as he pulls back. He still looks surprised at what just happened, a little dazed, but I don’t see regret in his eyes, or guilt, or anger. He just smiles at me, and I smile back.

Maybe this year I will manage to keep to that Resolution, after all.