Summer Born (summerborn) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2009-05-04 23:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | #lmom 2009, author: summerborn, kink: bad sex, kink: oral sex, kink: voyeurism, remus/ofc |
LMOM #4: Bits of Blue and Gold (R)
Title: Bits of Blue and Gold (4 of 31)
Author: summerborn
Rating: R
Pairing: Remus/OFC, with Remus again as voyeur
Kink: Voyeurism, bad sex, oral sex
Challenge: Lusty Month of May 2009
Author Notes: Some will call this AU since Remus (and others, later) are alive post-war. For most sense-making, you'll want to start at the beginning of the story.
Word count this episode: 1400
"I'm waiting to hear this 'explanation,'" Remus growled.
"All right," David said, dropping his hands. "Let me say first of all that we are working with St Mungo's on a number of research projects, and we don't do anything with the memories we procure that we don't have permission to do." He held Remus' eyes for a couple of heartbeats, until Remus drew in a breath and looked away.
"I suppose that's a good start," Remus said.
"Please, sit down."
Remus settled into the chair and returned his gaze to the serious-looking young man. "So what exactly are these viewing rooms for, then?"
David reached into a drawer and pulled out a glossy eight-by-ten with advertising copy all over it. "Fair Weather Fantasies" was printed across the top, along with bullet points like "
"You must understand," David said, "why St Mungo's contacted us for help with their research. We already had a collection of memories, completely anonymized as I described to you, thanks to our original business: for a nominal fee, we allow our patrons the chance to experience a scene from someone else's life."
Remus thought of the scenes he'd donated in the last few days, and his face paled.
"But as I said," David went on, seeing the way Remus' face changed, "we do not do anything with the memories other than what we have specifically agreed to. You have my word on that."
"Can I have it in writing?" Remus asked dryly.
David quirked a half-smile. "Only if you want a contract, which you would also have to sign, and with your real name."
Remus considered. It was a possibility, but one that would bring in some inconvenience. When it came down to it, his instinct told him he could trust this man. And perhaps it was just as well that there not be a record tying his name to the memories he'd donated.
"We can leave a contract out of this, I think," Remus said. "But I want to see one."
"See one?"
"One of the memories. I want to see for myself what this 'anonymization' process does."
It was David's turn to consider. "I'm not entirely sure they've been processed yet, but I could find out. Yes. Give me a few minutes."
Remus was left to himself for upwards of twenty minutes, long enough to wonder what else David had in his desk drawers, but he shook that thought aside briskly. Finally, David returned.
"Come with me," was all he said. In one hand he held a sample container, with a red piece of tape stretching across the lid. Remus was reminded of a few pre-employment tests he'd had to undergo, but he said nothing and followed David into another part of the offices.
The room they entered was small but rather cozy, with a small sofa on one side, facing an alcove that held a pedestal, on top of which was a Pensieve. Remus recognized the style of the shallow basin, though he had never seen one outside of Dumbledore's office, and the silvery-white light that shone dimly from it.
David shut the door behind them and gave Remus a serious look. "Are you sure about this?"
For the first time Remus realized about what it was he was going to see. He didn't know which memory it was, but either way he would be viewing himself in the middle of a scene he would really rather forget.
"I'm sure," he said.
David broke the seal on the container as he opened it, and tipped the misty grey swirls into the Pensieve. Then he took a step back.
Remus drew his wand, steadied himself, and dipped into the Pensieve.
There was a moment of twisting, falling, similar to Apparition but without the squeezing tunnel-like effect, and then Remus found himself standing in a typical teenage boy's bedroom circa 1967 or so. The layout of the room was familiar to Remus, but the feel was off, somehow. It took him a second to notice that the paint on the wall was the wrong color, the posters were not his, the furniture of a different style. In a dozen subtle ways, the appearance of the room had been altered. If he had not known what he was looking at, he would not have thought it was his own.
A small gasping noise brought his attention to the couple on the bed – and Remus could not hold back his first reaction, which was to clear his throat loudly, as one would if one encountered a teenage couple in such an embrace. His second reaction was to stare.
The girl sat with one leg draped over the boy's lap, with long honey-gold hair spilling freely over her shoulders as she and the boy kissed – enthusiastically, if somewhat clumsily. Remus didn't recognize her at all. Then he looked at the boy: auburn hair, three shades darker than Remus', his skin with a healthy summer glow, and classic, even features that made Remus wonder despite himself what he would look like if he smiled.
The couple broke apart for a breath and Remus chastised himself. "Remember where you are," he muttered to himself. "That's you." In the memory, he could walk and speak all he wanted, and those that were part of the memory would take no notice of him. The odd part of this was that he couldn't really remember what happened in this scene.
The girl – Lorraine, no matter what she looked like now – gave the boy a look and kissed him again. Her hands reached up for his shirt, underneath it, and moved straightaway to his trousers. Remus winced on the boy's behalf as he stiffened, obviously not from excitement but from something else: reluctance, fear... it was impossible to tell.
Strange to watch from the outside without being able to remember what he had been thinking.
The girl slid to her knees in front of him, working her hands down. Remus couldn't exactly see what she was doing, but the look on the boy's face told his part of the story: he wanted her to stop.
Remus' own cock, which knew exactly what it would be getting from such a luscious young mouth, began to harden involuntarily. "Terrible timing," he said aloud, taking a step farther away from the couple on the bed. But it was like watching a train wreck – even knowing that this would end badly, he couldn't look away.
The girl stretched her mouth open, and Remus had a good look at last at what she'd been handling. The boy's body was obviously handling the physical aspect of things, his cock long and hard from the attentions of those soft hands. But the moment her lips touched the dripping head, there was a visible flinch, and the boy gave her shoulders a sudden, uncontrolled shove.
The look on the boy's face hadn't changed – he looked equal parts terrified and disgusted, and Remus covered his face with his hand rather than watch the rest. He heard the girl getting up, a rustle of clothing, and then, mercifully, it was over.
He blinked, though the light in the small viewing room was muted.
David was watching him from the vantage point of the sofa. "Satisfied?" he asked.
Remus recalled suddenly why he'd been watching the thing in the first place. He'd read a few journal articles on legilimency, and how difficult it was to fake a memory, which was why he'd been interested in the 'anonymization' process from the moment he'd heard about it. But there had been no sign of alteration – no tell-tale white fog, or unbalanced sounds, or too-bright colors. It could have been an actual memory, but both he and Lorraine had been so changed that he never could have picked out who they were originally – or even that a change had been made.
"On one count, yes," he answered David. "But I've never seen such skill in legilimency. Who does this anonymizing?"
David smiled, relaxing at last. "We have a few people," he said. "We keep their identities secret, though. I would hate to have one of them hired out from underneath us. Trade secrets, you know."
Remus nodded slowly. "Well. If it's all right with you, I'd like to take some time to think about this."
"Of course," David said. "Sleep on it. Come see me tomorrow and we'll talk."
Continued in part 5.