Title: Ale's Swell That Ends Well
Author: inamac
Characters/Pairings: Sirius/James Snr.
Rating: NC17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: enemas
Other Warnings: Abuse of puns and alcohol
Word Count: 2800
Summary/Description: "Actually," James said, "I've heard that the quickest way to get really pissed is to take it up the arse."
Author's Notes: I had intended my first post to this community to be tastefully hot erotica. The muse decided otherwise. So you get icky smut. Sorry. Will try to do better in future. Thanks to leni_jess for beta above and beyond the call of duty, and lordhellebore for unprompted encouragement. None of this is their fault.



Moony would probably have stopped them - or at least tried to. But it was the day after the full moon and Moony still wasn't quite himself and had elected to stay behind in the dorm and catch up on his missed NEWT lessons. So when, after his third pint, Sirius had eyed the yard-of-ale glass on the wall of the Muggle pub which was the latest stop on the three remaining Marauders' pub crawl, and suggested a competition, there had been no one present with the sense, or, more importantly, the will, to dissuade him.

"The record," Sirius was reading from a typed card, yellow with age, pinned beneath the long, bell-mouthed glass, "for drinking a yard of ale in this pub, is six point two seconds." He scowled. "Childs play. I've done it quicker."

James, looking at the length of glass and mentally calculating its capacity at roughly two pints, frowned. "How? It looks pretty difficult."

"You need a very steady hand and no gag reflex."

James looked at Sirius' full, smiling lips, and was aware, from the most intimate contact, that he possessed both qualities. "Sounds right up your street, Pads." He managed to sound casual. "So, what's your record?"

Sirius shrugged. "Drinking? About five and a half seconds."

Peter snorted derisively. "Yeah, but you don't get to really appreciate it at that speed."

"I can't think of a quicker way to get rat-arsed," James agreed.

"Well," Sirius shot a glance at Peter, "Not without buggering Wormtail here."

"Oi! I heard that!"

"Just joking." Sirius' grin was all teeth and innuendo.

"You'd better be."

James ignored them. He was looking thoughtfully at the glass, and thinking about Sirius' comment. "Actually," he said, "I've heard that the quickest way to get really pissed is to take it up the arse."

Peter's eyes widened and he moved slightly away as if to distance himself from the turn that the conversation was taking. His hand moved slightly to his wand. Sirius, on the other hand, leaned forward, holding James' eyes. "Really? You do know such interesting facts, Prongs. D'you get them from your Muggle friends?"

James shrugged. "I hear things."

"Yes. So, d'you want to try it?"

"Try what?" James was suddenly wary. He knew that sly smile and what it might portend all too well.

"Downing a yard of ale. Or rather 'upping' one." Sirius eyes sparkled. "See if you can set a record yourself?" he asked, watching as James' own mouth gaped with shock at the mental image he had conjured with those words. Before James could recover he took pity on his friend. "Unless you've got other plans? A hot date with Lily maybe?"

James looked away. Lily Evans was the most popular girl in Gryffindor; and the only one apparently immune to his charms. Part of the reason why he was in this Muggle pub trying to drown his sorrows was to forget the humiliation of her latest rejection. Whether or not Sirius had intended it, the reference to Lily steeled his resolve. If he was going to get pissed to forget her, he might as well make a thorough job of it. "No," he said. "No date. Let's do this."

Peter's mouth was open. He looked from one to the other like a spectator at a Quidditch match. "James? Sirius? That's…" he floundered, and took refuge in generality. "You’re such a pervert."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Nah. You've not met my cousin Bella, have you? Now she has some really weird ideas."

"Actually," Peter said, with a seriousness that recalled the absent Remus at his most daunting, "I have met your cousin Bella. And I still think that you’re weirder."

Sirius shrugged. "This time it wasn't my idea." He turned his attention back to James. "So? Let's get on with it."

James was looking at him aghast - but there was a gleam in his eye that was not entirely the product of their evening's pub crawl. "In the middle of a Muggle pub?" he asked. "Are you that good at memory charms?"

"No," Sirius said. "In any case we don't want the Ministry to throw the Muggle Protection Act at us. We'll use the Gents. Put up a couple of privacy charms - no problem. And there's nothing like nice traditional Victorian tile for a bit of erotic stimulation."

James felt the blood rush to his cheeks as well as his cock. The first time Sirius had propositioned him had been amid the Victorian tile-work of the second floor Prefects bathroom. He hadn't dared use the place for weeks afterwards. Sirius didn't miss the reaction, or the assent it implied. He lifted down the ale glass from the wall and handed it to Peter.

"Here, get the landlord to fill this. A decent keg from the pumps, mind. None of that Watneys rubbish. Well, go on," he added, as Peter hesitated, "Are you a man or a mouse?"

"A rat, actually. And if you two are going through with this count me out. Someone's got to stay sober enough to apparate us all out of here."

"You have been knocking around with Moony too long," was the only response. "Here, bring the glass to the Gents when it's full. And don't spill any."

He and James watched Peter wend his way through the crowd at the bar. The long glass, held like a sceptre before him cleared the way as effectively as if he were a monarch. Satisfied that his orders were being carried out, Sirius turned back to James. He frowned. "Oh, I almost forgot." He held out his hand and commanded "Accio tube!"

There was a silent pause, and then a flexible coil of clear plastic pipe shot from somewhere behind the bar and flew into his hand.

James' jaw dropped. "Where did that come from?"

"It's a pub, Prongs. They use yards of the stuff to connect the barrels to the pumps." He eyed the length he held critically. "This looks about right. And it'll be sterile." He ignored James' involuntary shiver at that comment, and scooped an arm around his friend's shoulder to usher him in the direction of the toilets. "C'mon, mate. Showtime."

The loos, when Sirius pushed the heavy oak inner door open, proved to be both empty and surprisingly roomy. James abandoned his last tiny shred of hope that he might not have to go through with this and hard on the heels of that thought came a sort of relaxed anticipation.

He jumped when Sirius rested a hand in the small of his back to guide him past the row of urinals to where three cubicles faced three heavy square white porcelain sinks with brass fittings. The full length mirror on the far wall reflected everything with unflattering clarity.

"All mod cons," Sirius said with satisfaction, pulling a low stool from beneath the furthest sink and swinging open the door of the opposite cubicle to provide a little more space and privacy. "All right," he added, turning on the taps and laving his hands with copious amounts of soap from the plastic dispenser, "Get your kecks off."

James hastened to obey the order to remove his jeans and briefs, while keeping half an eye on Sirius' preparations in the mirror. "You look like you know what you're doing," he said.

Sirius snorted. "Of course I know what I'm doing. Mother always insisted that her boys should be thoroughly clean, both inside and out, before attending any social engagement."

James' eyes widened. "Your mother gave you enemas?"

"Well, she delegated to the house elves. She delegated everything to the house elves. But yes. She took the Family motto rather literally." Sirius' voice grew high and stern as he imitated the matriarchal tones of Walberga Black, "Our name may be Black, but we are always pure. Remember that, boys."

James gave a choked little cry, stifling both laughter and horror, but before he could make any further remark the outer door opened and Peter stepped through carrying the yard of ale glass now filled to the brim with golden liquid.

Sirius beamed. "Great," he said. "Not a drop spilled. James, if you need to take a dump, best do it now while I get this ready."

James nodded, not daring to trust his voice now that his crazy proposal was about to become a reality. He backed into the cubicle, shutting the door behind him, and for the next two minutes tried to concentrate on anything but the preparations that he could hear Sirius and Peter making. The crude graffiti and the advertisement for strawberry-flavoured condoms on the back of the door did not help.

"Okay, Peter," he heard Sirius say, "Hold it steady."

There was a clink of glass, and a muffled squelching sound as Peter held out the full glass and Sirius took the length of tubing in one hand, touched it to the mouth of the glass, and performed a complicated transfiguration charm that fused the plastic to the lower part of the bell to allow the liquid to pass into the tube as it would have passed through the lips of a more conventional drinker.

Peter gasped. "You're really going to try this? A yard of ale? I thought…"

"That's the challenge." Sirius wasn't entirely sober himself. He sounded amused. "Keep an eye on the door, Peter. I think James and I can manage from here." He raised his voice. "Prongs? Are you ready?"

James finished cleaning himself, flushed the pan, and pushed open the door just in time to see Peter almost running for the exit. They watched him go, then Sirius turned to him. "Are you still up for this?"

James eyed the beer glass. He swallowed, and then nodded.

Sirius produced a couple of bar-towels from his pocket and used them to pad the edge of the sink. Then he pulled up the stool and sat, knees slightly apart, and motioned James to lie across his lap, arse raised. He didn't miss the slight tremor in James' muscles as he did so. By way of reassurance and preparation Sirius ran his fingers down James' spine, smoothing the fabric of his soft shirt against the tension of muscle. "Don't worry," he murmured. "Relax. Breath through your mouth, it helps."

James followed the advice, and found that it did.

Sirius moved his hand down, from fabric to exposed flesh, smoothed over the pale buttocks and down to probe at his dark-fuzzed crack. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do. With my life." It was muffled in the thick fabric of Sirius' cords.

"I'm only asking for your arse."

This time James gave a snort of derision. "I already trusted you with that."

"Yeah," Sirius said, reminiscently, "But this is going to be a bit different."

"I would hope so. You know my motto - anything for fun."

"Mad bastard." Sirius gave the taut globe under his hand a sharp slap. James gasped and Sirius felt his cock stiffen against his thigh. James always reacted so beautifully to every scheme that Sirius suggested, and he never backed down. Sirius felt his own arousal at the thought. He took a long breath to calm himself and reached for the glass, held upright by a levitation spell and with the tube hanging free from the lip of the bell. He caught the end of the transparent tube, closed his lips over the plastic and sucked gently, taking a mouthful of beer and rolling it with his tongue to mix with his saliva, lubricating the end of the tube as the fingers of his other hand, slick with soap, worked their way into James' already loose entrance.

He heard James control his breath, the little 'ooof' of expelled air exactly the same sound that he had made the first time that Sirius had eased the head of his cock into that welcoming hole.

"Steady," Sirius murmured, unsure whether he was reassuring James or himself as he fed the slicked tube between his fingers and withdrew them to take the the yard length of glass and lift it to rest the bulb on the padded edge of the sink. He took another calming breath of his own before he tilted it enough to allow the first of the beer to run into the tube - and into James.

"Steady." James echoed him, as the first sensation hit. Then: "Oh Merlin…"

Sirius had expected the arousal, the sudden tightening of balls and hardening of cock as stimulation hit James' prostate, but James clearly had not.

"That's… oh…"

"Good," said Sirius. "I know. But try not to move or you'll have us both covered in broken glass and beer."

"I…" James clamped his hands around the legs of the stool and managed to obey the command.

"Good chap," Sirius praised, watching the level of the glass go down. The bell was empty now, and he could feel James' belly pressing against his thighs as the liquid filled his colon. James' breathing was even, as he obeyed the command to relax - helped by the increasing amount of alcohol in his system - but a glance in the mirror showed that his face was flushed and Sirius did not miss the sudden tightness in his throat, and the whimper that he tried to bite down on. He tilted the glass back, stopping the flow.

"Cramp?" he asked.

"I… yes. Sirius…?"

"It's okay. Here." Sirius parted his legs, allowing James' distended abdomen more space, and reached down with his wand to perform a soft warming charm on the spasming flesh. "Better?" he asked, after a moment.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to carry on?"

James' nod came as a surprise to both of them. It was matched by a re-hardening of the cock now pressed damp and leaking against Sirius' trouser leg. Momentarily he regretted not having stripped himself, but it was too late this time. Maybe later, and at leisure. As it was, this evening was going to provide him with wank-material for the whole of next term.

"Pads?" James' voice was slurred, as much from his inverted position as the increasing amount of alcohol in his bloodstream.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Sirius smiled. "That's the beer talking. You'll regret it in the morning." He circled his free hand on James' back, and watched the beer that had filled the long glass tube slide into his anus. There were only the contents of the bulb to go now.

There is a trick to drinking a yard of ale. Drinking from the bell of the glass is no different from drinking from a normal pint glass, tilt it to the lips and the beer slips down deceptively easily. But there comes a point when the drinker must tilt the tube above the horizontal to allow the beer to flow from the bulb at the far end. That is the point when a very steady hand is needed if the inexperienced drinker is not to be overwhelmed by the sudden rush of liquid and lose the game.

Sirius was very experienced. He closed his mind to all distractions as he tipped the glass slowly above the horizontal, watching as the golden liquid flowed down the glass tube, and the level in the bulb dropped, never allowing it to fall far enough to allow air, rather than beer, to interrupt the flow. It was a few seconds before he realised that James was still mumbling.

"Want you there." It was petulant now.

"Shhh. I'm here. Not long now."

"No. In the… In the morning. Want you…"

"Assuming that Peter manages to get us all back to the castle, and we can use your cloak to sneak back into the dorm, I'll be there in the morning."

"In m'bed?" That wasn't at all muffled. James sounded firm and determined. He would undoubtedly be far too drunk to remember this in the morning - even with a sobering potion.

Sirius shrugged. "Yeah. If you want."

"Good." James relaxed against his knees as the last of the beer vanished from the tube. Sirius could not be sure whether that last word had been a continuation of their discussion, or a statement of repletion.

"That's all," he said. "I'm going to cut the tube now. D'you think you can hold it for a bit?"

He felt James' head nod against his leg. "Yeah. How long?"

"Just a couple of minutes. Don't want you too pissed."

"For you - anything." The voice held open affection.

Sirius used a spell to sever all but the last eight inches of pipe and another to return the ale glass to its original clean condition. All the while he could feel James' even breathing against his leg, the tension in his thighs and buttocks. The other boy's sex was quiescent now - a first for James - but his own was hard as rock. He bent and planted a soft kiss on the nearest bare flesh, which happened to be James' arse.

"In the morning," he promised. "After you've had a sobering potion, and we've both had a good night's rest."

"Mmmm." James' mood was happy and relaxed. He levered himself carefully to his feet and made for the toilet cubicle. "At least," he said, eyes meeting Sirius' for the first time since they had entered the room, "I'll be nice and clean for you."

~Fin~