InsaneJournal

[Fic] Inebriation (Lily/Sirius, Regulus/Sirius, NC-17)
Title: Inebriation
Author: Envinyatar (aka envinyatar15)
Pairing: Lily/Sirius (main), Regulus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Highlight for Warnings: *first time, adultery, incest, shower!sex, wall!sex, UST, biting, underage, pregnancy*
Canon-compliance: none explicitly
Word Count: 4,290
Summary: Lily would hesitate to call Sirius Black her first love. She would call him her first, most magnificent fuck, maybe, or her first experimentation, but if it came down to it she would deny any sort of emotional attachment.

Notes: Written for opheliet as a pinch-hit for the hp_rarities exchange. Inspired by Three Days Grace's "Wake Up". Many thanks to deemichelle for the fabulous (and quick!) beta. Originally posted here.

For 7musicalmusesv2's song prompt (see A/N); challenge_the: #004 lies; potterverse100: #17 ancestry; lions_serpents: #12 touch.


There is something to be said about first loves. Your first, your greatest love; the attachment that burns you for life. Its intensity will fade over time, but the hold this person has over you won't. First loves create patterns. First loves are inescapable.

Or so Lily thinks, later, after Harry is born and she is forced into hiding.


Hogwarts: April 15, 1977

"Lily, Lily, wait!"

Lily Evans sighs, rolling her eyes. Annoyed, she turns to the voice. "What do you want, Potter?"

James Potter comes and stops in front of her, all frantic mop of hair. Lily feels almost sorry for him and his hopeless infatuation. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

Over his shoulder Lily watches as Sirius Black saunters down the hallway, eyes firmly hefted on the two of them. Lily is reminded of how Severus Snape used to be, so long ago now, guarding her back, as if she'd disappear in the ground at any moment. "No, I won't," she answers Potter, but she doesn't look at him. Instead she continues to watch how Black carelessly swings his wand in one hand.

She can't help but want that careless ease broken.


Hogwarts: April 16, 1977

This is fucking, nothing more, Lily firmly thinks to herself. Black said it himself as he cornered her in the library after she had turned Potter down. Leaning close, he told her he would never betray his best friend, his brother-in-arms. A mere half-hour later finds her writhing against him, though, the mattress too hard against her back, the pain of her first time mixing with the pleasure he's pulling from her body; and she can't help but think, What if this was more, what if. She feels stupid for it, moaning her frustration into his neck as he powerfully thrusts into her. Lily grasps his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Her teeth clamp down on his shoulder of their own accord, provoking a grunt. She can feel his muscles tensing under her hands, then he stills above her. Through the red haze of fire, she watches him throw back his head, his back arching, and she can feel him come deep within her.

Lily begins to feel even more stupid then, to have given in to momentary desire. It's a passing frustration, though, for she soon finds out she needn't have worried about that. Black quickly rolls off her, and then slowly moves lower, thoroughly licking her so that she involuntarily trembles and shakes, moaning in abandon until the tension in her body finally snaps. The rush of blood in her ears is loud as she comes, the earth shaking and shattering around her as the inebriation of orgasm takes hold.

And that's, maybe, when she falls.


Hogwarts: May 1, 1977

"You realise this won't go any further?"

"I'm not stupid, Black," Lily says as she's kissinglickingbiting down his neck.

"I have others beside you."

Lily stills for a fraction of a second then chides herself. "I know." She continues her path from his ear to his collarbone to his chest, his hands tight on her arms.

"James loves you."

"I'm not interested in him, in case you can't tell," Lily shoots at him in between kisses, her eyes hard on him when her head is level with his. She stares into his grey eyes for a moment, then pulls at the back of his head and yanks him down to her, crushing their lips together.

Why would she want James Potter when she can have Sirius Black, King of Hogwarts?


Hogwarts: May 15, 1977

If anyone asked (or, indeed, if anyone knew), Lily would hesitate to call Sirius Black her first love. She would call him her first, most magnificent fuck, maybe, or her first experimentation, but if it came down to it she would deny any sort of emotional attachment.

"You love me," Sirius whispers in the dark, biting at her earlobe. "I've seen your eyes follow me."

"You're delusional," is her answer, completely serious. Then she pulls him into her, kissing away the ice his words have left.

Except Sirius is right, and her eyes have followed him. His easy grace and his arrogance are gorgeous on him, and he wears them like he knows it, strutting around Hogwarts as if he owns the place. Potter lacks this grace, and that's why she continues to spurn him, turning instead toward Black.


Hogwarts: June 1, 1977

When their sixth year comes to a close, Lily sees something she wishes by all things holy she had never, ever, ever seen. Her decision is resolved.

Moans of more and Sirius and Reg and fuck reverberate through her dreams, haunting her. Two pair of steel-grey eyes rest on her, surprise and guilt written over one, the other simply looking back at her, holding her wide-eyed stare in satisfaction.

Lily flees the scene, emptiness clawing at her insides. She avoids Sirius after this, and Sirius avoids her. Two weeks have come and gone before Lily finally gives in to James' pleas, the hollowness she is feeling inside a continuous hole in her guts.

If she can't have the King of Hogwarts, she will settle for the Prince, after all.


The Years In-Between: June 1977 - October 1979

Their last year at Hogwarts, Lily and Sirius manage to stay out of each other's way. But then, post-graduation, the situation couldn't have been more awkward if they'd tried, Sirius standing as James' best man at their wedding. Sirius, who knows Lily's cunt better than James does (ever will). Sirius, whose eyes still darken with passion when he catches Lily staring. And stare she does. She can't help it. It feels like something inside her is glued to him, like he stole a part of her heart and still hasn't given it back.

Resolved, Lily smiles at James, her eyes looking past him, at Sirius. "I do." James smiles back at her, and then, leaning forward, captures her lips in a kiss.

At the wedding reception, instead of following her husband, her eyes follow his best friend. It's as if they only remember what once was; not what is now. He looks good in his black dress robes, talking casually to the other guests. There is that grace again, the one that always makes her heart beat faster, ever faster. She is still watching him when, as expected, he approaches her and asks for the next dance.

He holds her close, but they both behave themselves, in that moment and for many more moments after Lily ended things between them. The yearning for more is there, the dissatisfaction of un-fulfilment, but Lily supposes it's a pain she will eventually learn to live with, and after a time, it will be forgotten.


Wizarding London: August 26, 1979

Lily returns to their flat after an afternoon of running errands. She's been out the entire day and can't think of anything but the hot bath she's going to soak in. Her muscles are in serious need of relaxation.

Her plans quickly dissipate as she smells cigarette smoke in the air around the corner of her front door. Coming to a stop, she stares ahead, standing paralysed as she sucks in the air deeply, hungrily. It's been a long time since she has smelled this particular brand, and once upon a time it was as well-known to her as this man's cock, sex and cigarettes an interwoven memory of days long gone.

With the olfactory memory bubbling to the surface, the resentment of old returns, but, stronger, the even older desire is there, too, pushing at her to move.

She once again inhales deeply, trying to calm herself, but sucking in the air that is so clearly Sirius has exactly the opposite effect. Her nerves flutter, her hands begin to shake, and her head spins. All the pent-up emotion comes surging back, like water through a broken dam, an unstoppable power. She rounds the corner as mechanically as an Inferi and just as pale; coming to a stop again, she finds herself staring at the lone figure of her husband's best friend. She can't fathom what he is doing there and she is not sure she wants to know. Seeing him like this, leaning against the wall, sucking on the cigarette and exhaling the smoke into the air, stirs things in her that should have been long ago forgotten.

As surely as if she'd been calling him he turns toward her, their gazes locking over the short distance. The spell holds the two of them for minutes, watching one another, waiting for what exactly Lily doesn't know. She only knows that she can't move as she watches the cigarette smoke slowly dissolve in the air between them. Then Sirius begins to sway on his feet; Lily takes a step closer, sniffing the air for what odour lies underneath the burning tobacco. Realisation dawns, and she starts to feel stupid again, like so many times before.

"You're drunk."

There is a heartbeat's pause, followed by words Lily wishes she hadn't heard.

"Regulus is dead."

Silence reigns after that, again. Lily stands, assessing Sirius. Then she turns towards the door without a word, opening it with the keys, moving up the stairs and opening another door. When she finally succeeds in her struggle with the lock she toes off her shoes and walks off into the direction of the kitchen. Panic causes the blood in her veins to pound an eccentric rhythm.

Sirius lurches in shortly after her, still unsteady on his feet. The sound of the door closing behind him sounds like the gunshots Lily remembers from her youth. "Where's James?" he slurs.

Lily stops dead in her tracks. "He won't be home until tomorrow."

"Good."

Lily continues on her path to the kitchen. She busies herself with packing away her purchases, her mind frantically thinking. So long, and it's been for nothing.

She hears his unsteady footsteps coming closer.

"You can't be here," Lily says without turning around.

"I know."

"You shouldn't be here."

"But I am."

Lily turns to face him, glaring. Now that they are in the light of the flat she finally sees him – the blood-shot eyes, the dishevelled hair, the filth staining his clothes. But she refuses to feel sorry.

"Then turn around and leave."

Sirius takes a step closer, his grey eyes dark and storming. "I won't."

"I'm not Regulus."

The words are lightly spoken, but the weight they lay on the room is unbearable. The fight leaves Sirius' eyes. "I know." He stares at her for another moment, searching her eyes, then finally turns around, leaving without so much as another word.

*~*~*

The problem with Sirius Black and love is that he knows neither as boy nor as man where to draw the line. A Gryffindor Black, which in itself is a paradox, means confusion. For him, the physical and the emotional aspects of love are invariably entwined into one huge tangle of love.

Brotherly love. Familial love. Friendly love. Being in love. He has never experienced any of it unconditionally. A Gryffindor brought up by Slytherins; what else do you expect? A Gryffindor needs love. A Slytherin knows how to use love. Of course Sirius doesn't know where to draw the line.

He is in love and needs the love of another, thus evading the crux of the matter, sneaking around the truth. Admitting to his feelings might break him, so he doesn't do it. That he is unable to control his feelings is Gryffindorian; that he perceives this as a weakness is Slytherin. He takes the easy middle way – being neither here nor there, committing to nothing.

Lying is easy. It's facing the truth which complicates things.


Hogwarts: May 14, 1977

"Regulus," Sirius hisses, creeping into the empty Quidditch changing rooms. Empty, except for this one person.

Regulus, naked, shoots Sirius a dark look that says, What if I have better things to do? But Sirius knows Regulus will give him what he wants. It's a power thing: Sirius desires and Regulus provides. It's not: Sirius takes and Regulus has to give, as it should be; the dynamics between them are off. Sirius has set out to right that wrong. He goes over to his brother, crowding him back into the open locker, furious about Gryffindor's loss in the game and furious about more, about needing his brother, maybe, or about needing this closeness that he never finds anywhere else. A Black for a Black. Their lips are close, too close. It won't do.

"Fuck," he whispers into Regulus' ear, whirling him around then walking him backwards into the closest shower stall. Regulus sheds Sirius' clothes on the way, the ever-apparent smirk playing around his lips.

"You want me, don't you? Want to fuck me into the wall?"

"Yeah," Sirius says, turning Regulus around and pressing him exactly where his brother wanted to be. "Like this, Reg?" Grounding himself against that sweet ass, Sirius groans, causing Regulus to arch back into him. "Need lube," Sirius moans, his breathing already hitched.

"Turn on the shower." Regulus sounds collected, but then he always does.

Sirius presses into him harder, rougher, his hard and leaking cock sliding between Regulus' cheeks, trying to get him to shatter: erase that cockiness from his face.

"Turn on the shower," Regulus says again, more urgently, and Sirius allows himself a small smile. With a turn of his wrist, water begins pouring down on them, drowning their troubled breathing and Sirius' loud moans. The water is hot and slippery, and Sirius thinks it the perfect kind of lubrication – just enough to take the worst of the pain away but still make Regulus feel the burning stretch, allowing Sirius enough friction, feeling exactly what he's doing to his little brother.

Regulus spreads his legs invitingly, looking over his shoulder at Sirius. "C'mon," he demands.

The steam in the cabin rises as Sirius presses the blunt head of his cock to Regulus' puckered hole. He pushes forward, his eyes holding Regulus' at far too close an angle. It feels like Sirius is pushing inside Regulus' mind, too much too close oh, God yes, and it doesn't take long like that. Their bodies sliding against each other, hair and skin wet and dripping, Sirius' moistened hand searches for his brother's wet cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts. Still their eye contact holds. Never once do they break away even as their eyes threaten to turn into the back of their heads. The pressure building in their balls is almost too much to bear.

"Come," Regulus whispers, a drop of water catching on his upper lip.

Sirius wants to lick it away.

He comes before he can act on the impulse, Regulus soon following him over the edge, moaning loudly. Sirius isn't completely sure who shatters first; too lost in the moment to pay attention to such a detail (which really isn't just a detail at all). He only knows that they are both sated.

Slumped together in the moment of blissful inebriation, Sirius can't help but think, Thank God I haven't kissed him.


Wizarding London: August 31, 1979

When James returns, Lily jumps him as if he had been away for months. Over the next few months, she clings to him like she has never done before.

In October, Lily's suspicion that she might have conceived is confirmed. She is pregnant with a boy.


Wizarding London: December 15, 1979

"Oh, c'mon, James, do tell what this is about!" Peter glowers a little; he is as drunk as everyone else.

Well. Except her, that is.

"We're waiting for Dumbledore, don't you remember, Peter?" James says with a smirk, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Lily, can you get us more beer, please?"

Lily frowns at him playfully, a teasing smile playing around her lips when James gives her the pleading puppy look she has been expecting. She scoffs at him internally. Her husband needs to be taught better manners. Turning around, Lily makes her way to the kitchen.

She hasn't thought about how the kitchen seems to be her and Sirius' place, though. How the kitchen is where they run into each other, time and time again, confronting a past they both long to forget and leave behind them.

"You glow," a low voice whispers in her ear from behind as Lily leans forward to take a cold beer out of the fridge. She stiffens as a hot breath ghosts over her neck, making the fine hair there rise. "You're pregnant."

Slamming the door of the fridge shut, Lily whirls around, right into Sirius' arms. The words she wants to fling at him get stuck in her throat when he lowers his head, his mouth crushing down on hers. Pushing her back into the cold metal, Sirius' hands trail down her sides, eliciting a low groan from her; then she begins kissing him back just as fiercely, her tongue battling his for dominance. Her arms come around his neck of their own volition, keeping him close. Pressing into him, Lily moans quietly – not more than a loud release of breath. She's acutely aware of the growing bulge in his trousers, causing her to instinctively rub against him. Sirius' grip on her becomes harder; his kiss more demanding. One of his hands trails down to her abdomen, teasing the slit between shirt and pants. Lily leans into him further, moaning again.

A shout from the living room spurs them apart, Lily pushing and Sirius pulling. "Lily, please, could we have that beer?" James calls.

"Just a moment," Lily answers; her eyes firmly locked with Sirius', her breathing tightly controlled. After a moment of silence, she turns around, opens the fridge anew and takes out four bottles. She closes the door but doesn't turn around to face the man radiating heat from too close behind her. "This can't happen again." Her voice trembles.

There is no answer, just mere silence. Lily stares at the refrigerator door until she hears feet shuffling out of the kitchen, back into the living room.

"Where've you been, mate?" Peter asks.

"Loo," is all Sirius says.

Lily closes her eyes, leaning forward, cooling her head on the cold metal. It does nothing to quench the heat running through her veins or the insistent throbbing of her clit.

Later, when James has an arm around her while telling his closest friends that he's going to be a father, Lily feels Sirius' eyes burning into her, but she refuses to look at him. Instead she smiles, her face a satire of happiness.


Wizarding London: February 15, 1980

Lily isn't surprised that when James is on his next mission, she finds Sirius waiting in front of her apartment building. She walks by him as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, taking care to not even look at him.

He follows her to the door. "Tell me you don't want this."

"I don't."

"Liar," he says, but Lily doesn't react.

Her keys finally find the lock and she opens the door, attempting to close it as soon as she has moved through. But she fails. Sirius is quicker, not wanting to understand that they can't have this; that Lily won't stand for this.

"For God's sake, Sirius," she hisses at him, her face contorted with anger in the face of her helplessness. But he is already in her space, and with those unreadable grey eyes, he looks at her as if she is a feast and he is a starving man. He doesn't do what she expects, though. Instead he takes her by the hand and leads her upstairs to the front door of her flat. She stumbles quietly behind him.

"Open up."

Mechanically, Lily obeys.

Inside, Sirius immediately backs Lily against the wall. The fight has gone out of her, replaced by simple, animalistic want. For far too long has she tried to deny this – the walls she has tried so hard to build simply crumble and break under his caress. She is tired, so tired of it all: the fighting, James' absence, continually pushing Sirius away. Tired of being pregnant in the middle of a war she is not sure she will live to see the end of.

Giving in to Sirius – doing what she wants instead of what is right – is the only thing she can do to feel alive.

With a small gasp Lily's mouth searches for Sirius'. The kiss is hungry, greedy, as if it is life's pure essence that Lily is breathinglickingbiting from Sirius' lips; rough and angry, because this kiss is not supposed to happen.

Sirius' hands run over her body and come to rest on her arse, their heat seeping through the thick material of denim pants.

Lily feels herself pushing Sirius away, a groan escaping her. Then, her eyes locked with his, her fingers reaching for the button of her jeans and unzipping them, she allows the jeans to hang low on her hips. Lily already feels naked under Sirius' burning gaze. She blushes.

Sirius takes a step forward when Lily pauses. He takes her in as if she is the only thing in the world worthy of more than a fleeting glance, as if she is all there is.

Lily feels too dizzy in the face of such passion and the answering need in her own veins to do more than stand by helplessly when he takes his place in front of her. He remains still, never sliding the pants down her hips. Instead he continues to look at her until Lily's impatience bursts forth from beneath her sudden, inexplicable shyness.

"Do it," she faintly demands. He continues to stare. "Do it," she says again, stronger this time.

One hand, large and rough, begins to slide under her shirt, coming to rest on the light swell of her belly. His touch is delicate, but it's not what she wants.

"I won't break," she growls. "Do it."

Sirius complies. Joining the other hand, the one from her belly slides lower, tugging slowly at the hem of her pants, sliding them down. Sirius follows until he is kneeling in front of her.

Lily bites back a moan as she tracks his movement with her eyes. She is sure she knows what he wants to do, but there's no time now, no time. Wanting more, she reaches down, vehemently pushing at the white cotton of her panties on her own.

Sirius must have caught wind of her impatience, for he looks up at her and stands.

"You want this, then?" he asks, voice gruff.

The grey of his eyes has darkened like a storm cloud that has overtaken the sun; Lily can't even see his irises. It's unsettling to her, causing a chill to run down her spine. Nevertheless she nods frantically, feeling her clit throb with desire, the wetness between her folds increasing. Quickly she begins to help Sirius discard his own pants, sliding them down until his cock springs free. She rubs him, provoking a low groan, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. She would relish in the rush of power if the circumstances were different, but she is too impatient, the call to be sated too strong. Whispering his name, she closes what little distance is left between them, pulling Sirius against her, her legs coming up with the help of his hands, hooking around his back.

"Do it," she says again, rocking forward, her entrance sliding teasingly over his cock.

Sirius grunts, positioning himself; then he pushes forward. They moan in unison as he slowly, deeply thrusts into her. The pleasure of something so long denied starts to take over. He places his hands on either side of her ass, and she holds onto his neck for dear life; the muscles of her thighs ache; the wall is uncomfortable against her back; but, God.

Relentlessly moving against each other, their pace quickens. With all reason lost, abandon takes over. It's too much; they have been on the edge for far too long, they can't control themselves. Their sweating bodies rub against each other, Lily moaning, Sirius grunting in her ear.

Turning her head, she gently bites the shell of his ear. He answers with a low growl from deep inside.

The edge is close, so close. It feels as if it would take just one more step, one more step and she would be gone. Sirius, God, just -

"Lily," Sirius breathes into her ear, pushing her over the edge.

She comes in a whirlwind of feelings, a release so bittersweet it takes her breath away.

Sirius follows a moment after with a groan and another deep thrust, filling her completely. She arches against him, an aftershock running through her body like electricity.

Together they slump to the floor, only their breathing breaking the silence that descends upon them.


Wizarding London: February 16, 1980

When the dawn of a winter morning arrives bright and clear, they lie in bed, silent but awake. Lily turns from facing the ceiling to face Sirius, whose expression is not much more telling than what is written on the wall.

"Why me?" she asks.

"You love me."

"I don't."

Sirius looks at her for a long time. "No," he finally says. "No, maybe you don't."

"You loved Regulus, though."

"I didn't."

Lily lets the silence reign then grabs Sirius' hand with her own. "So this isn't love, huh?"

"No," Sirius agrees. "No, it isn't."

Yes, it's clear. This isn't love. It is familiar comfort in wartime, maybe, if anyone ever asked. Just that, and nothing more at all.