"Black Lace Blackmail," James/Sirius, Bellatrix, R Title: Black Lace Blackmail Author: kethlenda Characters/Pairings: Sirius/James, Bellatrix Rating: Eh, maybe a Hard R? Warnings: forced cross-dressing, wanking, homophobic comments (not the opinions of the author!), silliness Word Count: 1750 Summary: "You want to be a girl? Be a girl. You will wear these for a week. If you don't, I'll tell my beloved uncle you've been rolling about on the grounds with James Potter's cock in your pretty little mouth. Your choice." Author's notes: Thanks to stephanometra for taming my canon-errors and to sazzlette for some valuable feedback on the tone. All remaining errors are my own! The fic originally popped into my head as a darkfic, but instead it came out more than a little silly. Written for the prompt "petticoat discipline" at daily_deviant, March 2007.
The note was written on the finest parchment, sealed with a blood-red kiss of wax. Sirius knew before even glancing at the seal that the letter was from a Black. It hadn't come by owl post, and no one but a Black was pretentious enough to use the family seal for intra-Hogwarts mail. A quick examination of the design impressed into the wax confirmed his guess and gave him the further information that the missive came from one of the girls, not Regulus; this was the seal of the branch from which his cousins descended rather than his immediate family at Grimmauld Place.
Scowling, Sirius slit the seal with his knife and unfolded the note. Bellatrix's spiky, swooping hand was unmistakable. I saw what you did, dear cousin. Come to the prefects' lounge on the fourth floor tonight at eleven and we shall discuss our options.
Merlin, Sirius muttered under his breath. It sounded like some sort of blackmail, yet he couldn't for the life of him figure out what he was supposed to have done. Not that he couldn't think of any mischief he'd been into; it was more that he couldn't imagine Bella giving a rat's arse about the Dungbomb in Professor Binns' class, not to mention that everyone already knew he'd done it, so what was the bloody point in threatening him over it?
Still, he decided, he'd better go. If nothing else, he might get to have a good laugh at Bella's expense, which would more than make the meeting worthwhile.
***
"Ah, dear cousin, so you did decide to grace me with your presence."
Sirius returned her smirk. "I thought it might be amusing."
"Not as amusing as I'll find it when dear Uncle Orion disinherits you."
Sirius laughed, the sound a harsh bark in the quiet of the room. "For dropping Dungbombs in class? You've got to be kidding me."
"No," said Bella. "For being a ponce."
His head was filled suddenly with the scent of damp grass and the image of James grinning as Sirius pinned him to the pitch. "How did you--"
"I have eyes in places you'd never imagine, cousin."
"Dad doesn't care," said Sirius with a bravado that was more than half pretend. "You think he gives a damn what I do for fun? I'm sure he had his little adventures when he was my age--"
"They may seem like harmless little adventures to you," said Bella. "But to a father who's been turning over every stone for years trying to find an excuse to give his fortune to his younger son, his good son..."
Sirius growled. He knew she had a point. He hated himself for caring. It wasn't so much the money and the townhouse he wanted; it was more that the idea of Regulus lording it over him made his bile rise. "What do you want, Bella?"
"Not much," she said, rising from her chair and picking something up from the floor beneath. It was a box, about one by two feet, made of some sort of shiny pink paper. "I have a little present for you."
Present? He'd been expecting the Cruciatus Curse, perhaps, or maybe to be asked to perform some vile errand for her. Or a demand for money, even, though he doubted Bella needed any. The last thing he'd anticipated was this gaily wrapped box.
Don't relax yet, he told himself. It could be anything.
He took the package from her. Her perfume was cloying this close, some heady blend of myrrh and roses. He tore impatiently at the box and opened it.
Inside, he saw lace and frills; there was a riot of satin between his fingers. Girls' knickers. "I think there's been a mistake. I think...erm...these are yours." He pushed the box back at Bella.
She cackled. "No, no, those are for you, Sirius love." She pressed the box back into his arms. "You want to be a girl? Be a girl. You will wear these for a week. If you don't, I'll tell my beloved uncle you've been rolling about on the grounds with James Potter's cock in your pretty little mouth. Your choice."
***
Sirius' first instinct was to toss the knickers in the bin and say to hell with Bellatrix's threats. How would she ever even know, after all, whether he wore the bloody things? Still, though, he could hear her voice in his head--I have eyes in places you'd never imagine--and he couldn't shake the image of Regulus sitting in Father's chair, smiling that cat-in-the-cream smile, and Bella beside him, laughing. She'd already made a special pet of Regulus, Sirius knew. It was not only Regulus's advancement but her own that she was playing for.
It's just a week. It's just ladies' underwear. A bit of lace never killed anyone.
Breathing a heavy sigh, Sirius stepped out of his Y-fronts and pulled one of the pairs of knickers out of the pink box. He picked one of the black pairs; they seemed slightly more tolerable than the pink ones or the ones with little hearts on.
The first thing he noticed about girls' knickers was that they didn't come up as high on his hips as his briefs did. The second thing he noticed was that the lacy bits at the top and around the legs weren't as itchy as they looked. They were actually sort of...okay. And soft.
And speaking of soft, the silky stuff that covered...well, the rest of him...felt absolutely brilliant. He wondered why blokes bothered with coarse cotton when there was this stuff out there to make pants out of. It slid and slipped over his bits in a most pleasant way. He rubbed at himself a little, just to appreciate the sensation.
He wondered if girls liked the feel of these things as much as he did. Then Sirius got to thinking about girls wearing knickers like these, and then about what it might feel like to fool around with a girl and have these things slithering up against himself during said fooling-around, and before he knew it he was touching himself rather more...intently...than he'd planned, and then he was biting his lip as he spurted white come all over the soft black lace.
Bugger, he thought as he stripped out of the soiled panties. At this rate he'd be down to the heart-print ones in two days flat. After all, sending these to the Hogwarts laundry was right out of the question.
***
Sirius hardly saw James for the next three days. James was obsessed with the upcoming match with Ravenclaw, and whenever he wasn't in class he had his teammates practicing on the grounds at dawn and midnight and any other mad hour he could think of, even though it wasn't quite spring yet and it was still chilly out. Sirius had never been so glad he didn't go out for Quidditch.
Sirius had been surreptitiously changing into his pajamas when the other boys weren't in the dormitory since Tuesday. It was Friday when James dragged him to the Quidditch pitch after classes let out. Ravenclaw was playing Slytherin and James wanted to scope out Ravenclaw's Seeker, try to divine his Achilles heel.
"But I couldn't care less about Quidditch," protested Sirius. "And besides, it's cold."
James produced a blanket and grabbed Sirius's wrist in a death grip. There was no saying no to James when he had his mind set on something. It couldn't have been ten minutes later that they were sitting in the bleachers, wrapped up together in the nubby gray quilt (like a couple of ponces, said Bella in his head) and watching the match. Or rather, James was watching the match and Sirius was thinking about how much he'd love to slip some Gagging Goop into Snivellus's butterbeer.
It must have been because Sirius thought James was glued to the game that he didn't notice--not at first--the hand that slipped up under the hem of his robes. James's hand was rubbing back and forth on Sirius's leg when he finally noticed it.
Bella, he thought, but they were hidden by the blanket; no one could see. He relaxed, trying to keep his expression neutral as James's hand slid higher on his thigh. Sirius was getting hard now, his cock pushing against the--
Lace! Sirius jerked out of James's reach, panicking.
"Pads? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just don't want to. Not right now." Sirius turned his head back in the direction of the pitch as if he actually cared about the bloody game.
He caught James's expression out of the corner of his eye. Hurt. Confused. Maybe sowing pain between us was Bella's real aim all along.
***
The spell was silent but hit like a ton of bricks. Sirius felt his feet whisked into the air, saw the floor rising to meet him. Prongs, you've done it! he thought with fierce pride even as he flipped upside down in the air. James had been trying all term to perfect that spell of Snape's in the hopes of giving as well as he got.
There was a moment of utter silence throughout the Great Hall--too quiet--and then a mounting wave of laughter, and as Sirius realized his robes were hanging down around his head, he knew what they were seeing.
The ones with the bloody buggering hearts.
"Finite," said James, and Sirius's body righted itself.
"Oi, Black!" called a third-year from the other end of the Gryffindor table. "Nice knickers!"
Sirius felt his cheeks burn, but as he stared at his shoes and prayed the floor would swallow him up, he heard James's voice rising above the last of the laughs. "Aren't they? I bet him ten Galleons he wouldn't wear 'em. I guess I know who's buying the butterbeer next time, eh?"
The laughs began again, but they were different laughs, the sort that came from Dungbombs and dirty limericks, and though Sirius knew he'd owe James an explanation later, he began to wonder if maybe family didn't have much to do with who had your blood, and a lot to do with who had your back.
***
Across the hall, Bellatrix leaned close to her sister and whispered, "Circe's tits! I didn't think he'd really do it..."