FIC: Weird Discoveries, by GatewayGirl, HP/SB
Title: Weird Discoveries, or How Sirius Black Got under Harry's Skin Author: GatewayGirl Pairing: Harry/Sirius Rating: NC-17 Canon-compliancy: Loose -- could include up through G0F Warnings: Cracktastic new take on mpreg. Notes: For me, this is short and fluffy. It was also written in under two days, because it appeared in my head in its entirety. Thanks to ravenna_c_tan for beta reading. Summary: Harry falls for Sirius ... and then things get weird
Weird Discoveries - or - How Sirius Black Got under Harry's Skin
Having accepted magic, Harry could deal with any weird thing. At least that's what he told himself when a stray wink from Sirius made fire pool slowly in his groin. Sirius caught on right away -- at least the corner of his mouth lifted in a satisfied smile as he picked up his conversation with Remus. Harry suddenly saw unexpected dangers -- and possibilities -- to his new living arrangement.
More glances followed -- days of them -- before the first kiss. The fire coiled and writhed, and Harry would have done anything Sirius wanted, he knew. "Easy," Sirius whispered, and he said that so seldom that Harry was sure he meant it. They took it easy, with long, slow snogging sessions, in the house, or out in some strange location after a ride on the motorbike. Sirius stroked him everywhere but the most important places, his hands sure and strong and his teasing voice low and promising more. When Remus was "visiting" for a few days, they sometime retreated to Harry's bedroom, but Sirius always left the door open.
They didn't tell anyone, but everyone who saw them together seemed to know. Hermione asked Harry hesitantly if he was going to find his own place soon, apologized for needing a nursery, and looked disapproving when Harry said he was happy living with Sirius. When Remus caught them coming back from a long ride, he would look anxiously at Harry before turning to Sirius in silent reproach. One day, he followed Sirius up to his room, and Harry took advantage of his invisibility cloak to sneak after them and eavesdrop.
"He's old enough," Sirius was saying as he reached the landing. The door was open, and Harry could see his back. That was enough. Every trace of his bull-headed stubbornness was plain in the set of his shoulders.
"You were supposed to care for him as a father, Sirius," Remus countered, disapproval plain in his face. "He's James's son."
"Well, I didn't get a chance, did I?" Sirius asked, shaking his hair back. "So I care for him as a lover. It'll just have to do, Moony. It is love, I swear."
Flushing with pleasure as much as embarrassment, Harry crept away, determined not to listen to more.
At some points over the next few days, he thought Sirius had sussed out his spying. His glances at Harry had a new knowing amusement to them, or at least, Harry saw that in there. When he whispered "my room," passing in the hall, one afternoon, Harry followed with as much trepidation as eagerness, but Sirius didn't interrogate him, or chide him, or in any way indicate that he knew. He just closed the door, and reinforced it with charms, and pulled Harry down to sit on the bed.
At first, it was much as any other time, except that they were in Sirius's room with the door closed, not Harry's room with the door open, not the library with trip alarms on the hall, not in a park against a hedge. Sirius was all strong kisses, and touches that made Harry writhe. This time, though, Sirius moved into his uncontainable motion, so they rubbed against each other through their clothes. And after he pulled off Harry's shirt, which he had done before, his hands slid under the edge of his waistband, coming to rest at the snap of his jeans, fingertips just grazing Harry's cock, as if he were unaware of it.
"God, please!" Harry pushed the man's robes, trying to open them further down without pulling back enough to see what he was doing. "Anything. Can't you tell I want more? It's you that always pulls back."
Lips grazed his ear. "I wanted to be sure. So young."
Sirius chuckled. "That's what I mean." He caught Harry's erection between two fingers and squeezed them together as he pulled up. "What a marvelous noise you're making. I wonder what other sounds I can get out of you?"
Harry didn't care, as long as Sirius would keep touching him. He pulled back enough to grab his wand and charm open the fastenings on Sirius's robes, so he could push them easily off his body.
"Yeah, Harry. Can't wait anymore."
Harry waited in anticipation and dread for Sirius to say something about fucking. He had a vague idea -- mostly from nasty jokes -- that one of them was supposed to put it in the other's arse. He wasn't sure he'd like that, but it would be worth it for sex with Sirius. Maybe if he was good, Sirius would kiss him in front of people. Maybe he'd say this would last, or tell Harry he loved him, rather than saying it to Remus, and then acting like this seduction was a sport.
Sirius, though, just wrapped a hand around Harry's cock and pulled it in long firm strokes. With lips and teeth, he toyed at Harry's neck. "So good, Harry. Been wanting to feel you hard in my hand. Doing it to myself, pretending I had you on my lap...."
Harry cried out. Belatedly, he reached to return the touch. How could someone else's cock feel so different from his own? He explored the shape of it, the ridge rising against his thumb and the way the front lay flat against his fingers, but he was distracted by a moan from Sirius.
"God, yes. Here." Sirius grabbed a jar from the table and smeared lube on his own cock, his hand bumping against Harry's. "Spread that around. And--" Sirius rolled on his side and adjusted his positions so his erection and the back of Harry's hand rubbed against Harry's erection. "Yeah. Let me...." He took more lube and reached with both hands, using them to press their cocks together. Carefully, he rubbed up and down them. Harry watched the heads pressed together, tips sliding in and out of cover and slits moving like little mouths. He added his touch in strokes along their heads, never quite sure whom he was touching at any point.
The sounds they were both making got higher. "Fuck," Sirius exclaimed. "Not even going to last long enough to--" Harry came hard, desperately turning words into sounds. Want you forever, Sirius. Want everyone to know it.
That time was marvelous, as were the next three, which also didn't go beyond touching with hands. The fourth time, Sirius put his mouth to Harry's cock, and Harry thought he would explode all at once. Sirius was still taking it easy, he realized then, slowly introducing him to other forms of pleasure, all of which were dizzyingly good. The only real problem with each progression was biting back "I love you," when the new thing was over, and they lay pressed together, catching their breath.
One morning, however, Harry woke up with the head of his penis hurting. He thought it looked odd, too, as if it were swollen, and he felt sleepy. He crept downstairs for a quick bowl of cereal, and then went back to bed. When he woke again, the head was definitely swollen. For the first time, he wondered if wizards had venereal diseases. Sirius would be careful with him, though, wouldn't he? He had been so careful in every other way. Harry decided to wait and see if it went away. Perhaps some sort of insect had bit him during the night, and he was having a reaction.
Over the next few days, though, the swelling only grew worse. His cock drooped down to a bulbous head that was sure was larger than it would be when he was hard. Unsure how to bring the matter up, or even if he should, he avoided Sirius. The swelling persisted, though, and after a week of avoidance, he realized he could see it through his clothes when he looked at himself in the mirror. He put on looser robes, but still didn't dare leave the house. At that, he finally decided that he really had to talk to someone, and Sirius was probably the least embarrassing choice. Besides, on his way from his room to the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of Sirius brooding in the drawing room, as he had done when he was a fugitive. Sighing, Harry backed up a few steps, entered the room, and closed the door behind him.
"Harry?" At the surprised, warily hopeful, tone, Harry felt a surge of guilt. He hadn't meant to hurt Sirius by staying away.
"Hi." Harry took a cautious step forward. "I, um, haven't been feeling well."
Sirius sighed. For a moment, he looked almost as old as he used to when he was on the run and Harry was younger. "Harry, you don't owe me anything--"
"Look. It's not--" Harry didn't know how to say that he still wanted Sirius. "Look, I've been-- My prick feels weird," he forced out.
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Weird? May I help?"
Growling, Harry stamped his foot once before he could catch himself. "Listen, Sirius. Weird, like really weird. And the head is all swollen, and I think something is wrong with me."
"Swoll-- Oh!" Sirius didn't sound upset. It seemed to be more astonishment that widened his eyes. "Harry." He beamed. "Perhaps you'd better, er, show me. I mean, for a reliable diagnosis."
"Fine," Harry muttered. Obviously, Sirius wasn't going to believe this was a problem unless he actually saw it. With angry force, he opened and shoved down his trousers, wondering distantly if anyone else was in the house. "There. See?" The swelling was even greater, now, although it still didn't hurt, really. Sirius fell to his knees and touched it solemnly.
"Something's wrong, Sirius." Harry jerked back from a soft kiss. "I don't think that will help."
"Harry." Sirius stood. Gently, he tugged Harry over to the couch. "It's not bad, love -- or at least, I don't think so, though you may disagree. It's a known sort of accidental magic."
"I'm magically distending my dick?"
"Not exactly." Sirius sighed. "Look, when a wizard ... well, is with another wizard, and ... and really wants to, um, stay with him...."
"I am not a six-year-old!" Harry snapped.
Sirius shook his head, laughing slightly, though at which of them, Harry couldn't tell. "Sorry. Um, you ... you seem to have wanted a family with me enough to transfigure your seed and conceive."
Harry's jaw dropped, and for a moment, he could do nothing but stare. He did want to stay with Sirius, but.... "I'm pregnant?" He looked down. "Wait, there? I can't be; there isn't room! Stop yanking my chain and tell me, damn it!"
Sirius shrugged. "There wouldn't be room in your gut either, would there? You'd die of blockage. That's why it doesn't work the same way with wizards as with witches; we don't have space to carry a baby."
Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh?" he said, making no attempt to hide his disbelief. "So how does it work?"
"Well, it's more like laying an egg. Hurts like all hell, I've heard, but then, Lily said the same about the way witches do it."
Harry wouldn't have believed a word of this, were it not for the way Sirius was looking at his misshapen cock with a sort of proprietary pride.
"You really mean this? You're not just making it up to laugh at me?"
Sirius met his eyes with a steadiness that was unusual for him. "Harry. I wouldn't risk you -- us -- on some stupid prank."
Harry swallowed. "I -- I haven't quite been sure about 'us.'"
Sirius nodded. "I've been ... I didn't want to pressure you. But you wanted to be," he added proudly, reaching out and caressing Harry's cock.
"Don't think I can get it up."
"I didn't expect it -- I'd think it would hurt enough to bring you down again. But this stage only lasts a few weeks."
"And then it comes out?" Harry asked, making a face.
"Exactly. Sorry, love. I can learn the healing spells for you, for as soon as it's over. The area will become more pliant, but tearing isn't unusual."
"Ew!" Harry closed his eyes and scrunched his face up. "So, then?" he asked weakly.
"Well, that's the worst of it."
At a soft stroke down his leg, Harry opened his eyes. Sirius was looking at him like he was the world. "It sounds horrible, I know, but this is a very rare and precious event. No one's ever managed to duplicate it deliberately, even. Once the egg is out, we just need to keep it warm...." He looked uncertainly at Harry. "You do want to, don't you? I'll stay with you for the rest of my life, I promise, and treat you well, and try to be a good father...."
"I .... Of course I want to stay with you, but ... a baby? I'm not sure I'm ready, Sirius."
"It's as simple as not keeping it warm, then," Sirius said, a little dully. Harry closed his eyes and breathed.
"No, of course we will. I mean, I'm eighteen, but you're older. We have money and a place to live. It will be fine."
Sirius kissed him, with desperate force. "Good." His hand found Harry's and gripped it hard. "There's a one in four chance it won't hatch anyway. You need to know that."
Harry pushed back the weirdness of "hatch" and moved on to trying to understand. "Why not?"
"Do you know anything about genetics? It has to do with how the masculine and feminine essences are passed on."
"Huh?" Harry wondered if this were some pureblood thing.
"All people have the thing that conveys the trait of the female. It's sort of like a recessive gene that way -- like blond hair -- except the woman always passes it on, so everyone has it. Men have the essence of both the male and the female, and women have only the female, but twice." He twisted one hand at the air as if trying to seize something. "Remus told me what Muggles call it, years ago. The "chromatic zone," or something, maybe because of how they color-code gender."
"Whatever," Harry said. "This gene thing."
"Well, say that A is female and B is male. Men are actually AB and women AA. BB isn't possible with a normal conception -- the woman always passes A, recall -- but in a wizard pregnancy, it can happen."
"And BB is...?"
"So, one chance that it doesn't develop and just goes bad, one chance that we have a daughter, and two chances that we have a son."
"Oh." The words 'daughter' and 'son' felt more overwhelming than the idea of pregnancy. "Wow."
"Yes. Wow." Sirius bent close, and this time Harry met him in the kiss. Sirius tugged, and they fell dizzily back on the couch and cuddled slowly, touching and kissing patches of skin and hair in convenient reach. Harry felt tired, again, but safe. He wondered if this sort of thing was common enough that Hermione could find him a book on it.
"So, does the egg grow?" he asked. "I mean, it won't be baby sized when it comes out, right?" He was sure it couldn't be, magic or no.
"It will be -- well, I've heard they come out about the size of a goose egg, and the shell is leathery. After that ... it grows a little, but not that much. Wizard hatchlings are smaller than witch's babies."
That sounded frighteningly inhuman. "But ... are they normal kids? Otherwise, I mean?"
"Not entirely. I mean, at the age of ten, you can't tell the difference, but the path to there is quite different."
"Well, they're small, as I said, but also precocial."
"Able to do things immediately. I mean, he'll likely be walking around by the end of the first week."
"Right. Don't look so horrified. It won't be worse than a two-year-old. You can also reason with them earlier."
"What will we do?"
"Learn baby-protection charms. Don't worry." Sirius pulled him close for another kiss. "You know the best thing?" he asked cheerily.
"That I'm the one who gets to pop something the size of a goose egg out of his slit?"
Sirius winced. "Prat. No, pretty much no one will object to us, now. They won't ask you if you're sure, or tell me I'm being pushy. Remus will finally believe me that you really want me, and even Molly Weasley won't dare stick her nose in it." He chuckled. "Except to give us child-rearing advice, I'm sure."
Harry lay back in his arms. They were finally going to be together publicly, he realized, and he smiled.
Everything went well. The warming charms were easy, and all of their friends were, as Sirius had predicted, supportive. Hermione got very wide-eyed every time she heard a new detail, but Harry didn't mind that. It gave him an anchor for his own confusion through the hatching. By spring, they had a handsome little boy who called them "Pa-surs" and "Da". Harry came to suspect that the story of Tom Thumb was an exaggeration of someone's memory of a wizard's baby, although Jamie wasn't nearly that small. There was a lot of media coverage, but it was surprisingly civil, and Harry didn't mind the sidelong glances that they got in shops. That wasn't too strange, in itself. It was more the way that a wizard's baby was referred to in different words.
Sirius said that would go away as the child grew older and to scale with his peers. Harry was glad. Having accepted magic, Harry could deal with any weird thing. Except, perhaps, cooing old witches calling his son a cute chick.