Title: Bound to Be
Author: llaeyro
Characters/Pairings: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: suspension (Shibari), praise
Other Warnings/Content: D/s dynamic, kink negotiation, bondage, subspace, aftercare, begging, anal sex, come facial. Mentions of anxiety and other post-Azkaban trauma.
Word Count: ~4k
Summary/Description: Remus didn’t move, he just continued to watch Sirius carefully, every word sounding measured and deliberate. “This is different. No cuffs. Just ropes, snug to your skin. At each point of contact, wrapped around you several times and holding you in the air, with no support beneath you. Other than to raise your head and arch your back, you will be rendered entirely incapable of movement.”
Author's Notes: Thank you to Team Good Vibes for all your help beating this fic into existence with suggestions, inspirations, look-overs and sprints and generally putting up with my whining ;)



“I would like to bind you with ropes and suspend you from the ceiling.”

They were sitting in the kitchen at Headquarters, just the two of them, eating a mediocre supper of bread and soup. The house made its usual odd and eerie sounds, but they knew that they were very much alone. Kreacher lurked in some corner or another, but the Order members had left before dinner, taking the conversation with them. Other than a muttered ‘thank you’ when Remus had brought the bowls to the table, they had sat in silence, preoccupied with their thoughts. The pressure to fill the silence wasn’t there, not between the two of them. They didn’t need words, even with all that had changed since Azkaban.

Sirius slowly chewed his mouthful of bread, laying the remainder of his roll on the plate. He could see thin swirls of butter left behind from his dunking, floating on top of the reddish liquid. Across the table, Remus had finished his own meal. He sat quietly, elbows on the table, hands clasped under his chin, watching and waiting for Sirius’s response to his spontaneous declaration.

Sirius leant back in his chair with a shrug. “You know I don’t mind being tied up.” They both knew that was a gross understatement. Sometimes, the collar and cuffs were the only way to drown out the irrationality of his intrusive thoughts once the anxiety took hold.

Remus didn’t move, he just continued to watch Sirius carefully, every word sounding measured and deliberate. “This is different. No cuffs. Just ropes, snug to your skin. At each point of contact, wrapped around you several times and holding you in the air, with no support beneath you. Other than to raise your head and arch your back, you will be rendered entirely incapable of movement.”

Sirius could feel a slight tightening in his chest. Breathing took just a little more thought than it should and there was a weight in his stomach. He couldn’t tell if it was excitement or apprehension, but the two often came hand in hand of late. Remus knew how change affected him these days. There must be strong motivation for him to suggest it.

“Why?”

“Shibari, when performed correctly, is a slow and intricate process which I enjoy. Also, I would very much like to photograph you on display that way.”

“Okay.”

“No,” Remus replied quickly and definitely as he stood, gathering up his dirty crockery and taking it to the sink. “I want you to think about it. In two days, I will ask you if you have any questions about the process.” Remus walked back to the table and stood next to Sirius, taking his chin between thumb and forefinger and guiding Sirius to look up at him. “The following day, you will give me your decision. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sirius said after a moment’s consideration, carefully maintaining eye contact.

Remus did tie him up that night, but it was with the cuffs, as usual. Sirius was surprised to find the experience rather lacking. The customarily reassuring weight of the metal-clasped leather felt unnervingly lax, the rest of his body exposed and neglected. Now that the suggestion of a more encompassing form of bondage had been dangled temptingly in front of him, this suddenly wasn’t enough anymore.

Two days passed too slowly. Remus made him wait until after dinner before he asked if Sirius had any questions. His answers only increased Sirius's want, but Remus refused to tie him that night. They fucked slowly, Remus curled up behind him, thrusting deep. The fingernails of one hand bit into Sirius's hip and the other arm wrapped snugly around his neck, without restricting. Just a comforting pressure. A reminder that he was under another's control. He trusted Remus explicitly, and the act reinforced that notion.

It took Sirius by surprise when, shortly after lunch the next day, Remus instructed him to strip. There was the moment of familiar dread clawing at his insides before Remus fastened the collar about his neck. He knew that it was irrational, that just a thin strip of leather could save him from feeling vulnerable and exposed, but anxiety isn't rational. Knowing in his mind didn't change how he felt in his skin. The collar was a compromise. When Remus put the collar on him, he was absolving Sirius of responsibility. He didn't have to worry, he only had to obey.

Obey and trust.

Remus directed him into the study, where the furniture had already been moved to the edges of the room, leaving a large space in the middle. There were loops and hooks in the ceiling and a neatly bundled pile of rope next to a sizeable wooden box off to the side. Remus drew the curtains and lit the sconces with a wave of his wand, gesturing for Sirius to stand in the centre of the room.

Remus's shoes clicked across the wooden floor. He stood in front of Sirius fully clothed, a bundle of rope and some sort of metal clip in his hands.

"This is not punishment and this is not an exercise in pushing any boundaries. You may ask for anything necessary to ensure your comfort, whenever it is necessary. You may ask me to stop at any time and I will begin to set you free. If you safe-word, I will spell you free immediately. Do you understand and accept these terms?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you have any questions?"

"No, Sir."

"Very well. On your knees, hands behind your back."

Sirius complied and sat back on his heels, folding his arms behind him, hands on his elbows. Sirius hadn’t noticed that the rug had been moved from before the fireplace to beneath him but he was grateful for it. Remus moved behind him, nudging him with his knee.

"Sit up, hands clasped. That's it. I'm going to tie your hair out of the way so that it doesn't get caught up in the ropes. Would you like me to use magic or shall I do it by hand?"

"By hand, please Sir."

Remus's hands were on his wrist, sliding off the hairband that Sirius generally kept there. Fingers massaged briefly at Sirius's temples as Remus swept back his hair, raking it with his fingers into a rough, high bun.

"Do you need me to go through with you precisely what will happen?" Remus asked as he finished tucking the last stray strand of hair into the bun. Sirius considered the question seriously.

"No, Sir, I don't need you to. But I wouldn't mind if you would like to." Sirius could hear Remus moving behind him. There was shuffling and the occasional clink of metal.

"An overview, then." Remus was behind him again now, hands stroking slowly and firmly down his arms. "I am going start with your arms, chest, then attach you to the ceiling. I will then hoist you one leg at a time. At that point, we will discuss how you are feeling and how to proceed. You may still stop me or ask for adjustments at any time. Do you understand and accept?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good boy."

Sirius preened at the praise, closing his eyes as Remus's hands started working on him. The rope dragged lightly over his skin, catching on hairs as Remus wound it around one wrist slowly, about four or five times He paused frequently to push the coils together snuggly before eventually tying it off.

"Clasp your fingertips together and hold your arms as far away from you as you comfortably can."

Sirius did so, holding the pose as Remus lead the free end of the rope over to and around his other wrist in the same fashion. When he tied it off and stepped away, Sirius gave an experimental tug. The fit was flush to his skin, with no slack in the rope between his arms until Remus prompted him to relax once more, letting his arms hang naturally against his bare arse.

Remus worked quietly until he had tied three ropes along Sirius's arms; at the wrist, the elbow and the upper arm. He could rest his arms against his back, or raise them slightly behind him, but he could no longer bend his elbows. Sirius was surprised to find that it wasn't, in fact, uncomfortable, but he could see that it easily would become so if left that way for too long.

"Alright?" Remus asked quietly.

"Yes, Sir."

Remus’s shoes clicked away behind him, followed by shuffling and the knock of wood against wood. Sirius assumed that Remus was opening the box. He returned promptly, standing in front of Sirius and holding up a small black box with a cardboard sleeve around it.

“This is a Muggle camera. You will need to keep perfectly still in order for it to work.”

At Sirius’s nod, Remus moved around him again, and Sirius could hear him crouching or kneeling down behind him. There was a click, and then the sound of a gear being turned, then silence.

“Bow your head. Hm, tilt your chin up just slightly. Perfect.”

Another click, another few grinds of the gear. There was shuffling. Something, probably the camera, was laid on the wooden floor and something heavy dragged across it and onto the rug.

“Is it comfortable to sit back on your heels, with your arms like that?”

Sirius lowered himself slowly, raising his arms out behind him briefly, testingly. “Yes, Sir. It is comfortable at the moment.”

“Good. If that changes, you must tell me.”

Sirius could feel the material of Remus’s trousers brushing against his bare feet, his bare arse, telling him that Remus must be kneeling behind him.

“I’m going to bind your torso now.”

Sirius’s lower kneeling position gave Remus a good vantage point. He could see over Sirius’s shoulder to tie the knots without having to constantly move around him. He wrapped the ropes carefully around Sirius’s shoulders, under his arms, across his pecs. Remus made sure to rake his nails across Sirius’s nipples, letting him feel the drag of rope and fingers trailing across his skin at every opportunity.

When Remus moved away again, Sirius looked down at himself. The knotwork ran thickly and intricately down his sternum, trailing up to and through the loop of his collar. With every breath, he could feel the two ropes that ran horizontally around his chest catching against his nipples, which were framed between them. Another two ropes ran across his shoulders, biting slightly into his collarbone. Vertical ropes held it all together, two on his front and two down his back.

Remus was back with the camera again, bending down with it, looking through the little window. He moved back and forth, up and down, until eventually he cracked open a curtain slightly. The sun was low in the sky, an orange light seeping into the room, its journey seemingly slowed by the thick dust in the air that appeared to be inescapable and steadfast throughout the old house.

“Stay on your heels but straighten up for me. That’s it, chin up.” Click. Wind. “Actually, let your head fall back. Yes... Can you lean back on your hands?”

It was awkward, Sirius nearly lost balance, but he managed it. Remus quickly snapped two more photos, one standing before him, looming over him, and the other from a low angle to the side.

“That’s it, you can return to your position now.”

Sirius quickly realised that he, in fact, couldn’t. He’d had to push off and trust that his hands would catch him falling the last couple of centimetres necessary, but he didn’t have enough leverage to make it back up again.

“Actually, Sir, I’m stuck. Could you help me, please?”

Remus was over to him like a shot, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him forward. His hands lingered, stroking across his shoulders, down his arms, down his chest.

“You’re doing so well, Sirius. I want you to stand up now. I will help you to keep your balance.”

He pressed forward into Remus’s touch, bringing up one knee and pushing himself up to standing. It was easier than he had expected, especially after spending a while on his knees. Remus grabbed up another bundle of rope and began attaching it to the ropes already binding Sirius’s chest, shoulders and arms. Sirius could hear metal clinking above him as Remus attached the ropes to a hoop in the ceiling, pulling them through until just taut. He could only feel the slightest upward tug.

With a wave of Remus’s wand, a small footstool shot across the room. Remus picked it up with one hand, placing it right next to Sirius’s left leg. He reached out, wrapping one arm around Sirius’s middle bracingly.

“Lift your leg at the knee.”

When he did, Remus slid the stool under it. The two didn’t quite meet, but with another wave of Remus’s wand the stool grew slightly, stopping comfortably against Sirius’s knee. Remus stepped away slowly, checking that Sirius had his balance. It was rather comfortable, until Remus pushed his foot up further, until calf and back thigh met, and he tied them together. A constant coil of rope ran the full length between the two, uniform and neat. Remus ran the end of that rope through another loop, holding his leg up and to the side. Sirius wondered how Remus would manage the other leg. He began to worry about the discomfort that he was sure would be setting in any time soon.

The last rope was simpler than anticipated. He only tied the rope around his right ankle three times, tying it and looping it through another hoop. He edged into the corner of Sirius’s eyeline, both hands on the rope.

“Ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sirius replied on a deep breath.

Remus pulled.

It was disconcerting at first, being tugged off balance, into a face-first position. Sirius’s immediate reaction was to put out his hands in defence, but of course, they didn’t budge. He felt uneven, some ropes digging too firmly into his flesh, others feeling unsupportive and useless.

“It’s okay, baby,” Remus whispered soothingly, stepping forward quickly, ensuring his body brushed against Sirius’s as his hands worked at the ropes once more. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.” He adjusted the height of the ropes supporting Sirius’s legs, moving one and then the other until he was balanced out. “How’s that?”

Sirius nodded. Formulating a reply would require far too much effort. The ropes bit into his skin, but it was a welcome pressure. It was encompassing. Reassuring. He was blissfully helpless.

And wasn’t that wonderful?

Another rope was being tugged at, the one attached to his arms this time. Remus only pulled the rope through a comfortable distance, however, not forcing Sirius’s limbs too high. A firm hand ran over Sirius’s thigh, where it was intricately tied to his calf.

“There.” Remus sounded pleased and possibly a little surprised as he snatched up the camera and began to circle Sirius. He only took a couple before standing in front of Sirius, eyeing him critically.

“Ah, yes. The bun has to go, now.” He pulled out the hairband carefully, raking his hands through Sirius’s hair, fluffing it out and gently massaging his scalp. It felt amazing. It was strange how, with a change of setting, something as mundane as tying up and freeing hair could seem so laden with meaning all of a sudden.

Since Azkaban, Sirius had found that there were a great number of things that he needed that he hadn’t before. He had always been rather insecure, despite the show he’d put on around most people. Being constantly belittled by your own parents will do that to you. Yet he had never had quite such a desperate need for reassurance and validation as he did since regaining his freedom. He needed to feel safe, physically and emotionally. He needed to feel cared for.

The time and attention that Remus had put into every knot and turn of the rope spoke louder than words ever could. The ropes squeezed him reassuringly, held him lovingly. They encompassed him. The realisation was too much, for a moment, but then Remus was there. He was in front of him, cool damp cloth in his hand, dabbing at Sirius’s forehead, wiping away sweat and intrusive thoughts. He was overwhelmed suddenly by gratitude. That this smart, caring, strong and cunning man who was kind right down to his bones had chosen him. That he chose him still, even though this wasn’t what he signed up for all those years ago. Surely he didn’t deserve to feel this special. He didn’t deserve to be loved.

The tears rolled down his cheeks so slowly that he barely registered them. He did register the loosening of the emotional knot in his chest, and the worried face of his Sir before him.

“Sirius?” It was said softly, hazel eyes searching the face held gently between his palms as his thumbs wiped away the tears.

“Am good,” he managed thickly. “Is good.”

“Time to stop?”

Sirius shook his head, breath catching as the movement made the ropes rub against his nipples. He could feel heat beginning to pool in his groin. “Take the photos,” he mumbled.

“They’re not important. This is about you. About what you need.”

Sirius bit his lip and closed his eyes, trying to think through the fog of emotions. “Need you to take the photos.”

Remus hesitated a moment more, waiting for Sirius to open his eyes and look at him before moving away to fetch the camera.

Sirius followed his directions again as Remus moved about him. Head down, head up, hair flicked back, back arched...

“Rem—Sir?”

“Yes?” Remus moved in front of him in an instant.

“Looks good?”

Remus gave a soft smile, the kind that is somehow a little sad at the same time. “You look perfect, love. So strong, so beautiful and, somehow, all mine. I can’t wait to show you these photos. I want you to see how you look, stretched out like this. I want to show you how the sunlight and shadows are playing across your fair skin. You are effortlessly elegant, and I feel privileged that you choose to share that with me.”

Sirius’s eyes closed inadvertently, and it was possible he missed something because suddenly he felt one of the ropes being let out slowly. A panicked sound unconsciously escaped his lips and the rope stilled, Remus returning to within his eyesight, hand in his hair, stroking soothingly.

“You need to come down now, Sirius. Do you understand? I need to take care of you. Okay?”

Sirius’s mind felt heavy. He wanted to sleep. Or perhaps cry some more. But he didn’t want to move. He didn’t ever want to move. Remus knows, though. His Moony always knows what he needs. He trusts his Moony. He tried to nod, but his head more wobbled side to side instead.

“Sirius,” His face was in Remus’s hands, holding him up when he just wanted to sag. “I need to know that you understand. What are we doing?”

“Mfh. Down.” The hands let go and Sirius drooped against the ropes, vaguely aware of them digging into his collarbone.

Remus mumbled something that sounded like ‘fuck’ and then ‘right’ and Sirius’s wrists were lowered to rest against his back. Sirius closed his eyes. He felt safe, embraced and he just wanted to drift into sleep. He didn’t want to be let go of. He didn’t want to be alone. But it was okay. He had his collar. Moony was there. Moony would take care of him. He could trust his Sir.

His legs were lowered next, but instead of meeting the ground they kept going, being lifted up slightly in front of him. The rope at his back pulled at him strangely. Then there were arms, and muttering, and a chest, and the scent of Remus all around him. He buried his face in it, breathing it in deep, letting out a soft moan at the feel of the ropes that still wrapped around his chest. He liked the rocking motion. He didn’t like the way the light dipped and surged.

Then he was going down, and it was soft but cold. More muttering, and his stiff arms were being moved. He didn’t like that either, but his whimpers quietened when he heard that voice, soothing, promising. He reached out, grabbed something, wrapped his fingers around it tightly. Soft skin, coarse hairs. More promises. More muttering. He didn’t let go.

Soft pillow. Comfy. Skin. Warm skin, so much of it. Pull it closer, hold it tight. Sleep now. Safe.

Sirius woke up, half-hard and curled up on his side with Remus’s naked form wrapped around him. He opened his eyes with a start as he remembered their session in the study. There were still ropes laced around his wrists and chest. One of his hands held fast to Remus’s wrist. The arm draped over his waist and the one trapped under his neck both tightened reassuringly around him.

“Hey love,” he whispered quietly against Sirius’s neck. “Alright?”

Sirius wasn’t sure how to answer, so he stayed silent.

“Can I go and get you some bits?”

Sirius’s reinforced his grip on Remus’s wrist.

“Okay, that’s fine. Would you be able to let go or pass me my wand?” He indicated the table on Sirius’s side of the bed. Sirius wriggled a little to free the arm that wasn’t desperately clinging to Moony and grabbed the wand easily. Remus summoned a water bottle and helped Sirius sit up enough to take a few sips. Sirius took hold of the bottle and gulped half of it down, suddenly realising just how thirsty he was. Remus put the cap back on and threw it behind him on the bed, cuddling close to Sirius once more now that he had settled down again.

He wondered how long he had been out for. How long Remus had been stuck laying here behind him, naked and half-hard. Remus’s cock twitched, resting against the crease of Sirius’s arse. Remus’s lips pressed soft kisses into the back of his neck, against his leather collar.

“What do you need, love?”

Sirius didn’t have to think about that one. He pushed his hips back, grinding his arse against Remus’s growing erection.

Remus bit back a gasp. “I need you to tell me. I need to know that you understand.”

Sirius did his best to look over his shoulder at Remus. “I need you to fuck me. Own me. Please, Sir.”

“Should I use the spell?”

Sirius began to nod but stopped himself. “Yes, use the spell. Please. I need you inside me, Sir.” He felt Remus’s magic work its way inside him and he let out a contented sigh.

“I’m going to need this hand back…”

Reluctantly Sirius let go, reaching up instead to lace his fingers with the other hand that was trapped beneath him. Remus’s hand closed around Sirius’s, while the other rubbed the head of his cock across Sirius’s entrance. The anticipation sent a visible shiver through him.

“Tell me…” Came the nervous, uncertain words in his ear.

“Fuck me, Remus. Please. I need to feel you. I need to be full.” He rolled his hips back as Remus pushed forward. The head slipped in easily and they both moaned, squeezing each other’s hand. Remus’s lips teased at Sirius’s earlobe as he slowly sunk in deeper.

“Merlin, Sirius, you were so perfect tied up for me. You’re so perfect like this.”

Sirius moaned as Remus started a languorous pace, his free hand coming around to loosely stroke Sirius’s cock.

“I thought it would be good for us, but I didn’t expect… that. You were so good, such a good boy for me.” His tongue came out to trace the edge of the black leather against Sirius’s neck.

“Please, Sir. Remus. Please...”

“Yes,” he panted emphatically, tightening his grip on Sirius’s cock and matching the movement of his wrist and hips. “Anything. Whatever you want, Sirius. You deserve the world.”

Sirius raised his knee a little higher, opening himself up, letting Remus slide a little deeper. His cock found Sirius’s prostate and the moans didn’t stop. He barely registered the ropes gradually loosening and falling away. All he could focus on was Remus all around him, inside him, deep and hard and slow and perfect.

“Time to come, love,” Remus muttered in his ear. He sped up slightly, hand squeezing and twisting over Sirius’s cock until Sirius arched his back and came with a strangled cry.

He whined when Remus pulled out too soon, but when he turned Sirius onto his back and straddled his chest, Sirius immediately opened his mouth. Remus’s hand ran quickly over his own cock, gasping and rolling his hips until drops of come decorated Sirius’s chin, cheeks and chest. Sirius wondered if there was any on the collar. He hoped so.

Remus leant over to the bedside table, having a little difficulty with balance and coordination, to grab a handful of tissues. He dabbed haphazardly at Sirius, only worrying about getting the worst of it off before collapsing back down next to him, one arm and a leg draped firmly across him.

“So,” Sirius yawned, “When can I see the photos?”

“There are no photos.” Remus smiled guiltily. “There wasn’t any film in the camera. I’m not about to walk into a Muggle store and wait while some poor man sees to them. Anyway, it was about the process, not the product.”

“I approve of the process. I just wish I’d managed to see it out properly.”

Remus shuffled enough to lean in and kiss him tenderly. “You managed splendidly.”

Sirius returned the kiss and smiled warmly, closing his eyes and concentrating on Remus’s presence. “Shame, though. About the photos.”

“Well, you do own a Pensieve.” Remus reached out and tapped his fingers lightly against the collar, removing it at Sirius’s nod. “Or I’ll just have to buy a book on Muggle photography and we can develop them ourselves.”

“Mhm… But Moony, that would mean doing it again.” Sirius didn’t even try to hide his grin, he knew it was useless.

“It would indeed. Why do I get the feeling that you may not mind so much?”

“Because my Sir knows me. And he loves me.” Sirius rolled onto his side facing Remus, legs tangling together.

“Well, you love me more,” Remus accused with a smile.

“Hell yeah, I do. Shut your face and sleep now, you’ve worn me out.”