Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: lilmisblack
From: iamisaac

Title: Make It More Exciting
Characters/Pairings: James/Sirius
Rating: R
Kinks/Themes Included: public sex, chan/underage (16-17)
Other Warnings/Content:
Word Count: ~1300
Summary/Description: Detentions can be long and boring, but Sirius might have found a perfect way to pass the time.
Author's Notes: Sorry I didn't manage the ghost, lovely prompter. I hope I haven't short changed you too much with this fic, which fought me every inch of the way. Many many thanks to Jamie, Mim and Berte for beta, encouragement and support <3



Sirius glances up at the front of the room, where Professor Genevre is marking papers. Then to the piece of parchment on his desk, charmed to receive messages from James’s similar piece, which is lying in front of James on the adjoining desk. A double desk at the back of the room – they’d had to fight off some of the other detentionees to get it, but people tended not to argue with Potter and Black. Sirius reckons they’ve done enough detentions to deserve it.

This is boring James writes irritably. He then writes it twice more, underlining it the third time.

Lines. You can say what you will about McGonagall (and Sirius and James regularly do) but at least she has more interesting ideas for detentions than mere lines. Sirius looks up at the front again, more thoughtfully this time, and then writes:

I could make it more exciting.

Oh yeah? How?

Sirius grins to himself as he writes:

I could bring you off.

Fuck off, Pads.

What, you don’t want me to?

No. We’re in detention, for Godric’s sake.

Sirius glances across at James, looks down at his lap. At the way his robes are bulging a little where they lie across his groin.

Why’re you hard then?

Am not.

Liar.

Sirius transfers his quill into his left hand and slides his right hand onto James’s thigh, the backs of his fingers resting against James’s cock. James’s definitely, definitely hard cock. He wants this. He’s turned on by the very thought.

James proves Sirius’s point by sliding his legs slightly apart, giving Sirius more access to the area in question. Sirius smiles.

James isn’t gay. He’s quite clear about that. He fancies Evans. That’s fine. Sirius isn’t either – he’s advantisexual. Taking advantage of whatever happens to be around. Which is James, as often as not. James refuses to date other girls because of The Beautiful Lily, which means that he’s short of options. Sirius has plenty, but he doesn’t mind James being among them. Especially not if it gives him the chance to liven up a boring detention. Definitely not then.

Sirius rubs his hand up and down James’s prick, watching the way James bites his lip to stop himself making a noise. At the same time, Sirius is writing his lines – he’s ambidextrous, to a degree. In an earlier detention, he once got in trouble for “getting someone else to write his lines”. They were so obviously in two different handwritings. Sirius was able, however, to prove that both were his: it was just that a third of the lines had been written left-handed. Professor Sinistra, the teacher in question, has never quite forgiven him. Sirius doesn’t care.

He flicks open the button on James’s robes around the groin area and slides his hand inside. James makes a quiet hissing noise as Sirius’s fingers find the elastic at the top of his pants and slide under it.

Want me to stop? Sirius writes, left-handed, his right hand curling around James’s cock.

Fuck you, James scrawls, his writing awkward and angular.

It’s closer to the other way around...

Sirius moves into a fast paced rhythm, apparently still concentrating on the paper in front of him as he jerks James off, hard and strong. James is trying to pretend to write lines, but his left hand is clenched into a fist, and his teeth are digging hard into his lower lip. He’ll bite through the skin at this rate.

Sirius swipes his thumb around the head of James’s cock, and James can’t help it: he groans. At the front of the room, Professor Genevre looks up.

“Did you say something, Potter?”

Sirius stops moving his hand, but keeps it clasped around James, squeezing gently and rhythmically.

“I… uh… I burped, Professor,” James says, his voice more gravelly than usual. He gives a slight cough. “Sorry.”

Sirius sniggers, and Professor Genevre looks at them both severely.

“I see. Well, Mr Potter, if you could keep your burps to yourself, I’m sure the class would be grateful.”

“Yes, Professor.”

James is pink in the face, and Sirius is evilly amused. It’s difficult to get Prongs to lose his cool – unless Evans is in the vicinity, of course – so Sirius counts every occasion on which he manages as a personal triumph. He does, however, wait until their teacher looks away before continuing with his ministrations. James turns his head slightly to glare at him.

Stop it he writes.

Sirius pauses for a second, and begins to move his hand away, watching James’s expression. He sees it drop. James is just objecting on principle – if Sirius stops now, James will be gutted.

Sure about that?

James pushes his glasses more firmly onto his nose. He knows, and Sirius knows, and he knows Sirius knows, that he doesn’t want Sirius to stop. Sirius has called his bluff.

I fucking hate you James writes instead: a careful non-answer.

Yeah, but you’ll let me wank you off anyway Sirius replies.

The parchment remains stubbornly blank in response to this, and Sirius grins. In James’s language, this is about as much as a plea for him to continue as Sirius has ever had. He’s touched James enough times that he knows what he likes, knows the quickest ways to get him off. He also knows which things make him writhe and moan, but Sirius is not quite mean enough to pull those out of the bag. He has no more wish than James to get caught – he’s not sure what the punishment would be, but the humiliation would be bad enough. It’s fun getting Prongs all worked up, but for his own amusement, not for that of the school at large.

So Sirius strokes firmly, twisting his wrist in a certain fashion. James has curled his head down over his parchment, not even pretending to write lines, his right hand (still holding the quill) clasped in his messy hair. He is breathing fast, but quietly – no one but Sirius has noticed anything amiss. Sirius speeds up, and James jerks his hips, just a little, pushing into Sirius’s grasp. He is near the edge, his cheeks flushed and his mouth open.

“Do it,” Sirius whispers, just a breath in James’s ear; and James bites down hard on his left arm as he comes, messily, over Sirius’s hands and his own robes. His face is scrunched up with his determination not to make a noise, and Sirius loves seeing him like this, broken apart by Sirius’s actions.

Sirius removes his hand, wiping it on James’s robes as he does so, and switches his quill back to his right hand. James has ink on his left cheek where his own quill dripped as he held his hair. Sirius has no intention of telling him – he’ll see how long it is before James discovers what he looks like. Meantime, Sirius will enjoy knowing precisely how it got there. He does hope it’s Evans who points it out to Prongs.

Better?

You’re a tosser.

Sirius grins.

Yeah, and you’re the one I was tossing. You look hilarious when you come.

James turns his head to look at Sirius, and Sirius does an impression, squeezing his features together and opening his mouth. James glares, but the glare dissolves into a grin of his own.

Fuck you. I bet you don’t look any better. Wait til next deten, and we’ll see what you look like.

Is that supposed to be a threat? Sirius writes with interest. Cos it sounds more like a promise.

James subtly sneaks his wand out of his robes pocket and mutters a cleaning spell under his breath before buttoning up his robes and putting himself back together. He has that post-orgasmic lazy pleasure about him: Sirius doesn’t think he’s ever seen Prongs so relaxed in detention, and he’s had plenty of opportunities.

Whichever way you want to take it. And okay James writes at last. I’ll admit it - turns out you do know a way to make detention more exciting...