kat_scratches (kat_scratches) wrote in ficbits, @ 2007-08-03 23:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | hp, nc17, remus/james, remus/sirius |
HP fic "Vengeance" (NC17)
Title: Vengeance
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all the characters. I just borrow 'em for nefarious purposes. Constantly.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After the infamous Prank, Remus gets back at Sirius by taking the one thing that Sirius has always coveted: James.
A/N: Written by request. Billions of kisses to my excellent beta, irish_lily. X-posted around LiveJournal.
Vengeance
Sirius wakes up to the steady squeaking of bedsprings. Even muzzy with sleep, his brain has no trouble registering the frenzied grunts and gasps of two people fucking. The sounds are coming from James' bed, and he realizes with a sudden, hotly embarrassed start that it must be Lily uttering those small, breathless noises.
Someone forgot the Silencing Charms, he thinks, sniggering. He wonders if Peter and Remus are also awake. He grins, white teeth flashing ferally in the slice of moonlight that slides across his face as he sits up. This will, of course, open up whole new realms of teasing James.
The grunts and moans are faster now, louder, and Sirius can't help but press one hand firmly around the base of his stiffening cock. He glances furtively at the other beds; all the bedcurtains, save his, are tightly closed. He pictures Peter, pink with embarrassment, frantically aroused and pretending not to be. He imagines Remus, wide awake and listening, stroking himself. It is very easy to imagine Remus getting off on this. It's odd, he thinks, that someone so outwardly reserved would be so wanton in bed, but there it is. Remus is no shy wallflower in matters of sex.
Near the full moon, Remus used to flush and try to excuse it as a by-product of raging werewolf hormones, but the truth is the moon has nothing to do with it. Remus simply loves sex, loves the smell and the taste and the feel of it. He loves taking Sirius in unexpected places - a quick snog while tucked in the shadow of the One-Eyed Witch's statue, fellatio in the Potions storage cupboard, fucking in an empty classroom. Sirius doesn't think there is so much as a broom closet left at Hogwarts with which he and Remus haven't made at least a passing acquaintance.
At least, Remus used to do these things.
Until Snape. Until the Prank. Until Sirius let his rash temper ruin everything.
"Just words," Remus had said, disgust mirrored in his voice, when Sirius tried to apologise. He'd stepped back, amber eyes cold and distant, and that had been the end of it.
From the depths of his curtains, James gasps, "Should've put up a Charm. What if Sirius hears?"
Sirius' heart nearly stops as he hears Remus' cool answer. "I hope he does."
And unbelievably, he's still hard, his cock throbbing and leaking as he fists himself relentlessly. At Remus' muffled shout of climax, Sirius comes fiercely, biting down hard on the knuckles of his free hand to keep himself from crying out.
Remus yanks open James' bedcurtains.
Sirius squeezes his eyes shut, not quite fast enough to miss Remus, quite naked, still kneeling above James who is in the midst of putting on his glasses. Sirius thinks this particular sight may now be permanently etched on the insides of his eyelids.
"Don't even bother pretending you're asleep," Remus snarls. "Look at me. Look at us." Sirius obediently opens his eyes, glaring defiantly at Remus. He tries, unsuccessfully, not to notice James.
James, with all his natural seventeen-year-old resilience, easily ignores Sirius and traces one hand along Remus' side, stopping to rest on one jutting hip. "Want to go again?" he asks.
Remus growls in answer, closing his mouth hungrily over James'. His eyes don't leave Sirius, not even as his mouth trails down to bite one of James' nipples. "Yeah," he says after a moment. "I want to go again." His glance flickers briefly toward James, and that's all it takes to break Sirius' paralysis. Sirius pulls his bedcurtains closed so fast that one of them rips a little.
In two strides Remus is at his bedside, hauling the curtains open again. The tear widens. "You will watch," he hisses. "Think about what you've done. Think about what you can't have."
He sidles back towards the other bed where James is waiting expectantly, one hand idly stroking his hardening cock. James, Sirius notes, really has an abundantly lush nest of pubic hair.
Remus strokes one finger almost tenderly along James' jaw line, slipping the tip into James' mouth. He casts a sideways glance at Sirius. "Think about what you're missing," Remus suggests.
Sirius bites back a whimper. He is already growing hard again, and he doesn't want to, not now. Not like this. "What about Peter?" he finally chokes out as Remus removes his finger from James' mouth.
Remus shrugs, unconcerned. "Sleeping Draught," he snorts. "In his Butterbeer. Ridiculously easy to fool him."
Sirius flinches as James adds, "What's the matter, Padfoot? Don't like someone else being the center of attention for once?" He pulls his glasses off again in a smooth motion, placing them within easy reach on the nightstand. He reaches up, fisting his Quidditch-calloused hands into Remus' tawny hair, pulling the other boy firmly down into a ruthless kiss.
Sirius doesn't like this at all.
He doesn't want to watch. He doesn't want to bear witness to this, but he dutifully watches as Remus moves up till he is straddling James' chest, his now-erect cock bobbing as he positions it in front of James' mouth. James' tongue darts out to slide sinuously around the head.
As he watches Remus begin to slowly fuck James' mouth, Sirius begins to realize that this is retribution. This is payback for Sirius sending Snape to the Shrieking Shack on a full-moon night. He knows he should feel properly abashed; he does. He knows he should be utterly shamed for not once considering Remus on that night, and he does.
And underneath it all, he suddenly hates them both.
It wouldn't be so bad, he reasons, if it were anyone but James. He could have handled it, watching someone else roll over onto their knees before Remus. He could have borne it far more easily if it were anyone's arse but James' that Remus was licking, agile tongue delving deep as James writhed in pleasure under his ministrations.
He doesn't want to be surreptitiously stroking himself, alone, as Remus buries his cock inside James.
And Remus knows it.
There'd been no secrets between them, right up till the end. Sirius had bared everything to Remus, from his secret and downright pathological fear of Muggle garden gnomes, to his hatred of anything coconut-flavoured, to the fact that he'd once, on a dare, worn a pair of his cousin Bellatrix's high heels to a formal family dinner.
He'd even told Remus that, before there was Sirius-and-Remus, Sirius had fancied James.
His stroking becomes more ragged, more frenetic, unconsciously timed to Remus' thrusts, and his breath is coming in harsh pants. He can't stop watching now, not even if he tried. Remus is stroking James with one hand; they are all fucking to the same rhythm.
James whines a name that none of them can make out and spills over Remus' hand just as Remus empties his seed into James. Across the room, Sirius comes messily, guiltily, over his own hand.
Remus perches on the edge of James' bed and cleans himself off on a discarded shirt. He looks pointedly at Sirius' sticky lap. "Enjoyed that, did you?"
"No," Sirius mutters. He hadn't wanted to, at least. He never wants to look at either of them again. He stares at the floor, and in his peripheral vision he sees James head off in the direction of the shower.
When James is out of the room, Remus says, "Sirius, come here."
"No," Sirius says miserably, but he still wraps himself up in his blanket and shuffles over to sit next to Remus.
Remus slides an arm around Sirius' stiff shoulders, waiting patiently for long minutes until Sirius relaxes enough to welcome the embrace. He presses a kiss to Sirius' temple.
"James knew, of course," Remus says. "He always knew you fancied him. But you're… well, you're not his type. Neither am I, frankly. But we decided you had to know how I felt. You had to know a bit of humiliation."
He pulls back, tilting Sirius' head up to face him. Sirius is blinking back furious tears.
"So how does it feel?" Remus asks quietly.
"I'm so sorry," Sirius whispers, and means every breath of it.
Remus sighs. "I know," he says. "I know."
When James finally returns, freshly showered and walking somewhat gingerly, cleaning spells have been done on the beds, and Remus is lying in Sirius' bed, one arm draped possessively about the dark-haired boy. Sirius is fast asleep, and there are tears drying on his cheeks.
"Everything all right with you two?" James asks, climbing into his own bed.
Remus tugs the blankets up a little further over himself and Sirius. "It will be," he says, and smiles.