Down With The Patriarchy!Author: ceredwenCharacters/Pairings:
R (at best)Kinks/Themes Chosen:
Genital ShavingOther Warnings:
Very AU, also Sirius is a little skeevy :(Word Count:
Sirius is a product of the seventies.Author's Notes:
Huh, I thought I was done with this pairing. Edit: Many thanks to my beta toujours_nigel
Now, mind you, I have seen a lot of cool shit in my day; I saw the Sex Pistols live at the 100 Club on Oxford Street - you wouldn’t believe what a well-placed Confundus Charm will get a seventeen year old kid. I let Remus drag me to an Elton John concert once but I’m pretty sure that had more to do with the smoke he doped me with, because that was really not my scene. I’ve done shots with Death Eaters in my mother’s house trying to prove how cool I was whilst simultaneously proving I had nothing in common with them, which, let me tell you, is no easy feat, that. However, there is nothing like seeing your first initial carved into your wife’s bush.
I’m getting ahead of myself, let me back up.
This all started with Harry’s stag night. Hermione and I had been married for a couple of years already - as soon as I knew what I wanted, I went after it. She was a tough nut to crack, but the challenge keeps my engine running if you know what I mean. I had been through enough of being alone, and at forty-three, having all those years in Azkaban behind me, not to mention that bloody awful stint I spent not-quite-dead, not-quite-alive, it was time to settle down.
It was Ron’s pick, the establishment
we went to, no doubt a decision heavily influenced by his twin older brothers. Now, of course I’ve been in places like this before, loads of them. Nothing new there at all. Don’t let Harry tell you that my feelings were hurt that I wasn’t his best man. That is a job for the best mate and if he would kindly remember it was Remus who stood up for me at my wedding, he might have asked me my opinion on the matter. Personally, I adore the lad, but the nudie girls bar was a bit seedy for him.
I suppose all things considered it’s a bit of synchronicity. I took Harry’s father to such a place for his stag night. Got him so smashed he nearly missed his own wedding. Thank fuck for Remus. He showed up at my flat with Hangover Remedies all around and a very dark glare for me, but I digress.
Now, the best nude girls clubs are on Knockturn, everyone knows that. I hadn’t been to one in years and years, though, and that I used to frequent them at all is a fact we’ll keep just between us. No sense in riling Hermione up over shit that happened before she was a filthy gleam in her father’s eye.
So, Knockturn Alley, where, as everyone knows, is where anyone can get just about anything. In this case that would mean Veela, Banshees (actually quite lovely but the Silencing Charm is a must), Nymphs, Selkies (if the place has an aquarium), whatever you want, really. The place Ron picked was one of the better places and they had a little of everything, including an ale with a very potent kick to it.
So, we settle in, right, and we’re teasing the lad about the next day and how we’re going to get him so stonked we might marry him off to his lass’s Aunt Muriel as a prank when the first girl comes out. I suppose they keep the more interesting acts for later, because as lovely as she was, she was just a girl. The music was some loud thumping business and she was doing her bit with the pole, but she still had all her clothes on. I order another ale for the lad and keep watching.
I suppose before I go any further I should tell you a little about the seventies. The seventies were, I am old enough to admit, a near cultural disaster. Any time polyester and disco become popular in the same decade should be a big fucking warning sign that you are going to look back at it with an extreme sense of embarrassment. And don’t even get me started on Glam.
More to the point of this story, the seventies hadn’t yet seen the devotion to, shall we call it personal maintenance? Right, too poncy; I agree. Look, what I’m saying is that the girls I remember were pretty natural. Furry even.
So when little miss first-act shimmied out of her knickers I was a bit surprised to note she was as hairless as a newborn niffler. Remus said my jaw hit the table, but he likes his hyperbole, Moony.
I honestly had no idea shaving was an option. I’ve got this reputation for being an absolute slag, but just look at my life for a moment. I was out of school and fighting in a war that saw me jailed before my twenty-second birthday. How worldly do you really think I had an opportunity to be? Then later, well - come on. Twelve years of Azkaban will do a number on anyone. They weren’t exactly lining the streets to shag me, I promise you that. So, a bit of naiveté is allowed on my part, thank you very fucking much.
The point of all this, and yes there is a point, is that shaved pussy is incredibly sexy. Perhaps not my deepest moment, no, but good gods watching that girl dance around the stage showing off her de-muffed muff was highly, er, entertaining.
Which, in a strange way, brings me back to Hermione. Merlin knows I love that witch, but she can be a bit trying with all her highly evolved feminist ideals. I’m a man who knows what’s good for him, so I mostly keep my gob shut and nod and agree. If she’s happy, I’m happy, and she rarely says something I disagree with. Mostly I just don’t care and think it's all a bit silly. If you tell her I said that, I’m denying every word.
What that means, however, that there are things she won’t do because of the “patriarchal nature of the hegemony that demands women conform to certain standards” or something. I could have that wrong. Also, I’m pretty sure she spells it w.y.m.y.n. Bit bizarre if you ask me.
I wasn’t a Marauder for nothing, though, and there is, excuse the pun, more than one way to skin a cat. Telling her how sexy it was wouldn’t get me very far, I knew that going in. So I did the logical thing and asked her if she’d be willing to shave me, which was completely amazing. I never thought something like that could be erotic but you know, she’s down there and my cock is like a rock in her hand and she’s not even trying to get me off. She just using it to pull the skin tight so she can put the razor to it and- Oh, too much information? Sorry, right, back on track. So naturally this, of course, led to me shaving her. Sexiest thing she’s ever let me do to her. I probably took more time than strictly necessary but then I wanted that ‘S’ to be perfect.
Which, unfortunately, was taking it a bit too far in her opinion. That’s why I’m on your doorstep at this hour of the night. She needs a few days to cool down, but I’ll win her back to my charms. I always do. So if you don’t mind, can I kip on your couch for the night, mate?