Title: Blessed are the pure of heart
Author: fleshdress
Characters: Remus/Sirius
Rating: nc17
Warnings: schoolboys doing dirty things to each other?
Themes/kinks chosen: penetration toys
Word Count: 1811
Summary: Sirius is not very well-behaved or very nice. But he is very lucky.
Author's notes: For red_squared


Today has been a very distracting kind of day. At the slightest provocation, Remus has found himself getting hard. He got hard at breakfast when Sirius shifted and fussed on the bench beside him, he got hard when McGonagall snapped at Sirius for not paying proper attention to the lesson, and he got hard when Sirius declined Quidditch training with James. Valiantly, he has refused to appear anything other than his usual self: mild and friendly and reserved. If Remus were to let on that he's been sporting inappropriate erections all day, acutely attuned to every single twitch Sirius gave, this will simply turn into a game.

It is most definitely not a game.

Ignoring Sirius sitting on the bed opposite, Remus turns a page in his Potions textbook and waits for the dormitory to empty.

"Well, we'll leave you ladies to your needlework then, I suppose?" says James, clearly still aggravated by Sirius's refusal to go flying with him. Sirius flicks a dismissive hand at him and doesn't look up from his apparent scrutiny of his own pillow. "Right. Fine. Come on, Wormtail. It's all a bit pathetic in here."

The flames of the candles flicker at the slam of the door, shadows jumping up the wall as in fright. Neither of them speaks as the sound of James and Peter clattering down the stone stairwell recedes and fades away altogether. Then Sirius leaps to his feet and comes to stand at the end of Remus's bed, arms folded firmly over his chest.

"I'm waiting," he says.

Remus looks up at him slowly, letting his expression be one of casual interest, even as his heart drops low in his belly and starts beating hard and hot. There's a pink flush in Sirius's cheeks, distinct on the china-white paleness of his skin. Something bright and volatile shines in his eyes. There's a highly-strung energy about him, in the flexing of his long-fingered hands, the delicate trembling that's going through the slender lines of his body. Something's waiting to be set loose and Remus wonders how long he can draw it out before it becomes openly suicidal.

"Oh," he says. He closes his book and sets it carefully on the pile of textbooks by his bed. Then he lays aside the quill and parchment with which he was making notes, all the while conscious of Sirius's agitated twitching from foot to foot. "Well, I suppose you have waited all day."

"Remus."

It's hard to make out whether the undertone in Sirius's voice is fury or excitement or both. Remus suspects it's both. He hopes it's leaning more towards excitement than fury because an enraged Sirius is not beyond using his nails and teeth and nothing provokes Remus into bad behaviour like Sirius hissing and scratching like a wildcat does.

He stands up and loosens his tie, flipping the buttons on his school shirt one after another, fingers too steady for the heat of want creeping up his spine. Sometimes he feels the separation of his outward appearance and his inner self so keenly it's a wonder he doesn’t actually have two faces. And right now, when he could quite happily pin Sirius to the bed and fuck him into a used, twitching mess, but manages to go on seeming calm and unruffled, he is entirely convinced he is two distinct people working in perfect partnership.

"You'd better undress," he says, in the same tone of voice he'd use to tell Sirius that he'd better stop levitating James's pumpkin juice out of reach before James can get thoroughly pissed off and over-react in typical, destructive 'James' fashion. It's a tone of chastisement and concern. Soft but authoritative. "Then get on your back on your bed, please."

Sirius hesitates, like he wants to protest. It's not at all surprising because Sirius always wants to protest. Even when he's getting his own way he'll protest that he's not getting it fast enough. What is surprising is that he complies. There's a swiftness to the way he moves, a quivering sureness that says he's made the decision to obey but is having second, third and fifty-millionth thoughts about it and may rebel at any moment.

Sirius is beautiful, and even more so when he's naked. All porcelain skin and sharp angles. Remus pauses in the middle of removing his trousers simply to admire him. As Sirius glances back over his shoulder at him, Remus is quick to look away but he thinks he catches the faint curl of Sirius's lips. Once again, he can't make out the expression properly. Amusement or affection perhaps, maybe contempt.

Only seventeen and Sirius is already aware that people will do what he wants if he smiles and flutters his long dark lashes at them. The novelty has worn off and the people who fall for it are generally treated with the same kind of disdain James and Sirius display when discussing the homework they'll leave to the last minute while everyone else strains and groans over it, and will still score better marks on than the rest of the class too.

The suspicion that maybe he's as ridiculous to Sirius as Lucius Malfoy and his manipulations are, irritates him and he takes the time to fold his clothes into a neat pile at the end of the bed. Still, with the impatient desire growing ever heavier in the pit of his belly, it's not just Sirius he's punishing with the delay.

At last, he's able to approach Sirius's bed, where he's laid himself out, watching every single move Remus makes. He's on his back as directed, propped up on his elbows and one knee tilted towards the other. It's a surprisingly virginal arrangement. Sirius doesn't do 'shy'. He does 'coy' and 'teasing' but not this. With detached curiosity, Remus notes that he's still shivering, on edge, an addict gone too long without a hit.

"Show me," he says.

Instantly, Sirius's legs fall open. He falls flat on his back with a small huff of breath and spreads his thighs apart. There's something appealingly canine in his submission and Remus wonders whether it's a calculated move designed to attract the wolf, or merely something inherently Padfoot. Either way, he wants. Sirius's cock is curving upwards, a single string of precome glistening as it drips onto the taut flat of his belly.

"Wider," says Remus.

A small, determined frown on Sirius's face, he hooks his hands under his knees and draws them up towards his chest. Remus moves into the obscene 'v' of his legs and tilts his head at the incongruous circle of wet, black plastic he can see between Sirius's legs. Gently cupping Sirius's balls in his palm, he lifts them so he can get a clearer look at the base of the plug that has been sitting in Sirius since Remus fucked him open this morning and shoved it in, that's been keeping him spread and slippery all day.

His cock twitches and thickens, stiffens as he gets lost in the thought of Sirius having the hard black plug in his arse all day, unable to forget for even a second that he'd been fucked that morning and was going to be fucked again that night.

The skin about the plug is puffy and pink, stretched and wet and sore-looking. Remus bets it's still uncomfortable, the distressed mewl Sirius gives when Remus touches a fingertip to the flushed, delicate skin behind his balls proves it. Sirius's grip on his thighs shudders, his narrow chest giving a jerky rise and fall as he sucks in breath. Remus has just been staring at the plug while his cock gets harder and harder.

Too much staring. Remus slowly presses Sirius's legs higher up and Sirius goes with it and lets Remus bend his body in half without so much as a word of complaint.

"Good boy," says Remus.

He ducks his head and drags his tongue in a hot, sloppy trail along the smooth skin of Sirius's inner thigh to the straining line of his cock. He very nearly gets kicked in the head as Sirius jolts hard and almost loses his sweat-slippery grasp on his thighs.

Sorrysorry, Sirius whispers breathlessly, and Remus forgives him with an understanding smile. Pushing closer into the spread of his thighs, Remus takes hold of Sirius's legs, just above the firm curve of his arsecheeks, and pulls them wider apart. He drops to his knees and puts his face to Sirius's arse.

With hungry, wet swipes of his tongue, he mouths and licks at the cleft of Sirius's arse. Greedily, he sucks at the base of the plug, tasting the lingering traces of the ridiculous cherry-flavoured lube he'd slicked the plug with and used to finger Sirius open this morning. Sirius's moaning sounds oddly distant and Remus only registers his desperate squirming when he has to tighten his grip on Sirius's thighs and haul him back down the bed towards his mouth. With the tip of his tongue, Remus traces the outline of the plug's base where it's rooted in Sirius, over and over until it's slippery with split and there's saliva dribbling from the corners of his lips.

He fists his own cock with hard, brutal strokes, smearing his thumb through the beads of precome gathered at the head and working it back over the blood-heavy length of it.

"Been such a good boy," says Sirius, hoarse and high. "So good… for you. Been good for you, Remus. Said I could be. Didn't I say? Said I could be good for you."

"Most people don't need to have their arse shoved full of something to remind them to be faithful," says Remus, dragging the back of his hand over his mouth. "Most people aren’t such sluts that they require their pretty little arses to be plugged up all day to keep them from whoring it up all over the school."

Sirius's spine arches and he looks down at Remus, to where he's knelt between his spread thighs, and he smiles, serene and spoilt. There are strands of sweat-damp black hair stuck to his forehead and pink cheeks. His chest is heaving as he sucks in breath. A flush of fury goes through Remus as he realises that Sirius is anything but punished.

"Flirting isn't being unfaithful, Moony," says Sirius, affectionate and entertained.

With a sudden moist smacking sound, Remus pulls the plug loose and replaces it with his cock before Sirius has even got a gasp out. He holds tight to Sirius's thighs, giving him no chance to escape back up the bed as he steadily works his cock deeper past the flushed, stretched ring of Sirius's arsehole.

"You're just lucky I'm the forgiving type," Remus says, breath coming too hard and baring his teeth in a grin at Sirius.

"God, yes… lucky," Sirius agrees.

END