InsaneJournal

[FIC] Bad Fucking Bedfellows: Remus/Mundungus
Originally posted here on 25 August 2007

Title: Bad Fucking Bedfellows
Author:
Recipient: jessicaqueen
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Mundungus Fletcher/Remus Lupin
Warnings: This fic is severely unsexy. I warn for language, frottage, sex toys, unfulfilled orgasms, dirty old men having sex, semi-non-con.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JKR, etc.
Summary: Remus Lupin must have sex with the one person who isn't too 'whole' for him. He lives to regret it.



July 20, 1997

Dear Tonks,

I'm writing you because you are going to hear some rumours going around about me very soon, and I thought it would be the courteous thing to warn you in advance. Unfortunately, if you are reading this letter, it means that the rumours are true and I will have done whatever it is people are saying I did.

No matter how acrimoniously our relationship ended (and don't worry, the healers said that my right testicle should return to its normal size in the passage of time), I want you to always remember me how I was: with my dignity, and my clean bill of sexual health.

Yours,

Remus

xx

***

The phrase "erotic evening" had never once preceded the sentence fragment "with Mundungus Fletcher", so Remus Lupin had to prepare in the only way he knew: by drinking copious amounts of firewhiskey and hoping to whatever God there may have been that Dung would have the presence of mind to at least have a bath first.

Unfortunately, the latter part of the preparation did not go ahead, and Mundungus smelled like his body was fermenting. "I've always 'ad a bit of a thing for you, f'you know what I mean," he slurred, running a finger down Remus' thigh. Remus bit back the urge to vomit or claw out chunks of wood from the underside of the table, and he wished desperately that he'd chosen somewhere a little less public than the Leaky Cauldron to implement his strategy.

"An' this might seem funny an' all, but I reckon I've seen you givin' me the old once-over too." Mundungus packed his pipe full of dried leaves, and held it out to Remus. "You fancy a puff or nothin'?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine for now," said Remus. "You know that stuff can make your breath smell?"

"Oh, what's a bit of 'alitosis between lovers, eh?"

A lot, though Remus, and he reminisced sadly that despite her faults, Nymphadora Tonks could never be criticised for her wonderful oral hygiene. Actually, one of his favourite things about women was the guarantee of good grooming and lack of malodorous waftings, and he sighed as he watched Mundungus scratch his ear with his pinkie, then sniff the by-products of the exercise.

"So, er... I booked a room upstairs for us," said Remus, reaching for the bottle of Ogden's and taking a long, painful swill - though ensuring there was enough left in the bottle to sterilise himself afterwards. "I mean, I thought it would be nice and... um, romantic."

"Clever thinkin', Remus old chum," said Dung. "I mean, with my place being a right-old rat's nest and all. An' I brought somethin' of my own to spice up the night."

Remus' stomach did a violent lurch - as if it were trying to break out of his tummy and take its chances on the outside. "I can't wait," he lied. "And I too brought something to make the night a little more exciting."

Dung patted Remus on the knee. "I've been waitin' for this night for ages, now. Ever since old Warty learned what I was doin' with them toads of his and I had to stop coppin' it off with him."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"No matter, he was a bit lousy at pleasuring a man, f'you know what I mean. Not me, though. I reckon I could suck the jam right out of a Jammy Dodger," he said, and he leered at Remus, who thought that was the least sexy thing anyone had ever said to him. At this point, he would have rather had a threesome with the Dumbledore brothers, the recent death of one of them not even acting as a deterrent.

"Oh. Goody."

"Well, I reckon I can't wait any longer," said Dung, standing up from his stool and stretching his arms over his head. "Reckon we go upstairs and get a bit physical, eh?"

Remus snatched up the bottle of Ogden's, and drank as much of it as his poor burning oesophagus would let him. "Let's do this," he said, with sad resignation in his voice, and when Mundungus patted him on the backside on his way upstairs, he realised what a long night he had in front of him

***

"I brung all my erotica with me," said Dung, emphasising the word 'erotica' with a great deal of unnecessary breathiness. It was really awful stuff: Jugs 'n Slugs being a typical title, and while Remus was glad that the market for people with fetishes for garden slugs was being satisfied, he was equally saddened that such a market existed in the first place. "You can 'ave a read of it if you like, to get you in the mood."

"I thought it might be a nice idea if we have a... um, sensual bath together," said Remus, hoping to steer the conversation in the direction of personal hygiene. "You know. I can wash your hair, and scrub your back, and whatnot."

"I've finally found a sensitive man who wants to pamper me," sighed Dung happily, as he sauntered in the direction of the ensuite.

"Absolutely," said Remus, secretly thinking if by 'pamper' he means 'hose'. Fortunately, he was prepared: shortly before being kicked out of Nymphadora Tonks' flat for the last time, he'd managed to sneak off with an array of expensive bubblebaths and shampoos. True, it was a sneaky and devious act (and one sure to annoy her, as she was deprived of her bubblebath in a time of emotional crisis) but one that Remus felt would pay off in the long-run, so long as he could keep Mundungus in the bath long enough to scrape away at the years of filth. "Why don't you go run us a nice warm bath, and I'll be in with you in a minute."

As Dung shut the door behind him, Remus let his old bag drop to the ground, and he fell to his knees. Rummaging through his collection of things, he set aside the shampoo and soaps and kept searching through his things until finally he pulled out a smallish, conical shaped piece of plastic. It'd cost him nearly half his allowance to buy it, and his eyes had fallen out of his head when Minerva told him of the plan. ("I don't know," she'd said to him as she laid out her plan of attack. "Take him out to dinner, get him drunk, do whatever it is that people sexually attracted to each other do."

"I can't believe you're telling me to do this, of all people. To buy one of those--"

"Better you than me," she said, "and besides, my days of sleeping with people to get horcruxes are long gone."

So Remus had to take this on board, and when he approached the store he was most alarmed to see one of the Ministry employees he'd personally dealt with in the Dangerous Creatures department testing riding crops on the front counter. The proprietor was a seedy old bugger who cackled when Remus returned from the aisles with the unfortunately named Insta-Jinx Butt-Plug in tow.

"It's not what you're thinking," Remus had said when he'd bought the required item at the counter, but the seedy old git only sneered harder. Remus left with his purchase, most unsatisfied with the service, but hopeful that he could use it to get what he wanted with a minimum of effort.) But regardless, he simply stashed it under the bed, and grabbed the bottles of detergent, steeling himself for the inevitable.

Carrying the bottles in one hand, he apprehensively opened the bathroom door to find Mundungus leaning out of the bath in an attempt to look coquettish. "Is that sexy massage oil you've brung me?"

"Er... of sorts," said Remus. "I thought some nice bubble-bath would soothe our muscles and get us all relaxed and clean."

Dung leaned back, and not for the first time, Remus saw his naked body. Dung's skin seemed to lack elasticity in the way the skin under his eyes did. Indeed, never before had Remus seen a body so defeated-looking and resigned to gravity. His chest was covered in a smattering of straggly ginger hairs, and his skin had a slightly yellowish tone that was even more pronounced on his hands and under his eyes. It was a body marked by a lifetime of neglect and misuse, and one that even its owner had given up on long ago: though he was thin almost all over, it was from lack of muscle tone, and his belly had long developed into a full-blown beer-gut. "I don't reckon I've 'ad a bath in years. More of a shower man, meself. Don't know how you lot reckon baths are relaxin'."

"You're supposed to shower quickly first," said Remus, noticing that the bathwater had turned a disturbing shade of brown. "Why don't you join me?"

Dung leapt out of the bath, and Remus noticed to his great dismay that Dung was sporting an erection - not improved by the fact that the elasticity of his ball-sack was even worse than his regular sag. Remus was never one to turn down a decent looking gentleman caller, but there was a line in the sand, and Mundungus Fletcher had clearly stepped over it. "Like what you see?"

"Um... the water pressure here is really good," said Remus, in a very lame voice. "I'm going to get into the shower now."

"Mind if I suds you up?" Dung climbed into the shower besides Remus, his cock brushing against Remus' bare thigh. Remus felt the vague sensation of his balls retracting inside him and hiding behind his kidneys, and tried to hide the shudder.

"Why don't you let me wash your hair?"

"Tell you what, why don't you massage another of me 'eads, eh?" Dung leered at him, and pressed himself even closer against Remus' body.

Anything but this, Remus thought. A dementor's kiss, or laundering Snape's unmentionables by hand, but not this.

"Don't knock it until you've tried it," said Remus, as he squirted shampoo into his palm. "At any rate, at least your hair will smell lovely." And with that, he slapped his hand unceremoniously against the side of Dung's head, and set to work lathering the stringy ginger mop.

"I'll 'ave you know that I've amassed quite a collection of grease there," said Dung, indignantly. "And I don't intend to smell like any right poncy field of flowers, or nothing."

"Humour me, please. See? It's not too bad."

"S'pose not. I hope you're intendin' to do that to me other lot of hair," he leered once more. "Go on, be a sport."

Remus sighed, and squirted an even more liberal handful into his palm. He tried to think happy thoughts, but even the strongest patronus wasn't protection enough against Dung's lethal arsenal of bodily parasites. "Er... I hope that's good," said Remus, his face turning pale as his hand worked up and down Dung's length.

"Ooh, that's right lovely," said Dung, groaning.

Remus'd had memories of doing this to someone far lovelier: back in a time where his memories had started to cloud over, where a few snatched moments in a shower could be the difference between a right-shitty day and a wonderful one. But that was then, with a handsome dark man in a school tie the same colour as his, and this was now, with a man who'd probably never worn a tie a day in his life. Even taking himself back to the memory wasn't going to stir his libido that night, though he'd never been much chop at performing perfunctory sex as a means to an end, even with people he'd been attracted to.

Sirius was a keloid scarrer: no matter how minor the injury, his wounds would always swell and disfigure. Nymphadora always had scabs on her knees from tripping over: she moved at such a pace, and with such direct force, that collision with the ground, or any low cornice, was inevitable. Dung's body was covered in lots of tiny little scabs: around his mouth, on his forearms, behind his knees, and just above his groin. Remus had no idea what they were from, and neither was he keen on finding out. He let out a gasp of shock as a hand stroked against his thigh and over his groin, and he hoped to God that his body wouldn't betray him. Mundungus' mouth moved closer to his face, and he could smell breath that spoke of poor diet and years of tobacco smoking, and before he could recoil out of reflex, Dung leaned in and kissed him - not with Sirius' force, or Nymphadora's deftness, but with a tongue movement that resembled an arm plunging into a sink to unclog a drain rather than a delicate dance between lovers. His mouth tasted vaguely dead, and Remus tried to pull away when he felt Dung tense against him, and when his hand felt sticky he realised what'd happened.

"Sorry 'bout that," said Dung, sheepishly. "Normally I'm a bit of a stayer, f'you know what I mean."

"Never mind," said Remus, holding his hand under the stream of water. "Why don't we take it into the bedroom? Let's not worry about that bath."

"You're too right," said Dung. "I can't wait to run my 'ands down your body neither." And with that, Dung leaned out of the shower and took the only available towel, not even bothering to dry himself properly before he left Remus stranded in the bathroom, dripping wet and cursing silently.

When Remus had finally drip-dried enough to let him wander back into the bedroom, he saw Dung lying on the bed stark naked, his fingers trailing along the duvet cover in an attempt to look alluring. (Needless to say, he was failing miserably.) "There's room enough for two," he slurred.

At that point, Remus realised that there was not enough do not want in the world to sum up his feelings on the matter. He felt that he may never be aroused again, by man or woman, and he cursed Mundungus Fletcher with every breath he took between the doorway and the bed. "I'm glad to hear that," he lied, again. "I... um, can't wait to do... things to your body." Like toss it in a big vat of sheep-dip, or coat it in flea powder.

"Come 'ere, lover," said Dung, beckoning to Remus with a crooked finger. Remus had no option but to comply if he wanted to get his way later, and like a lemming to a cliff, he found himself lying on the bed beside Mundungus. Dung was hard again, and when Dung leaned in to kiss Remus it rubbed against his stomach. "Oh, you do somethin' to my body, dunno what or nothing, but you're dead sexy."

Bugger you, McGonagall, thought Remus, as he wracked his brain trying to think of a way to implement the next stage in his strategy. This plan was probably Dumbledore's, he thought, or possibly even Nymphadora's: it would only be fitting that the one person less 'whole' or 'rich' than Remus would be the one he'd rather scoop out his eyes than to be with. That sort of thing would appeal to her sick sense of irony. The wench, Remus thought angrily. I bet she's sitting about with a pack of chocolate biscuits, having a proper laugh about this, while I have England's most unfortunately insatiable person trying to probe my personal regions as if my body were a rummage sale. "Um, you too," said Remus, realising that he was not gifted in the sexy talk department. "You know," he said, finally extricating himself from Dung's death-grip, "I brought something along that might liven up the evening."

Dung's face lit up. "Oh yeah?"

"Er... yeah. Um... I don't know if you've noticed, but I've got a thing for control."

"Oh, I 'ave noticed, no worry about that," said Dung, stroking Remus' hair. Remus felt his hair getting caught in Dung's ragged cuticles, and he leaned back slightly to stop himself from getting scratched by rough fingertips.

"Well, I do. And you see, I can only... er, perform... if the person I'm with is under my complete control."

Dung rolled over onto his back, his arms freely by his side. "I surrender completely to you, Remy, anything you want, I'm totally at your command."

Nobody ever calls me 'Remy'. "Well, good. I think you'll enjoy this just as much as I will," he said, telling the truth for the first time that evening. "Why don't you just lie back and relax while I go get it."

Dung closed his eyes, and Remus blindly groped under the bed for the butt-plug. It'd gathered a little dust on it, but Remus wiped it on the covers. "You can open your eyes now," he said, trying to make his voice sound husky and aroused.

"Oh, you are a kinky fucker, aren't you?"

"You'd better believe it."

"S'always the quiet ones."

"It's a special one," said Remus, holding it up for Dung to see. "You see, it's magically enchanted to... um, pleasure you with the force of a thousand tongues." Remus was lying, and more to the point he was unoriginal in his lies: he'd seen the metaphor in one of Molly Weasley's atrocious romance novels, and it'd remained in his mind by the force of its sheer awfulness. "The only problem is, it completely disables you for the first few minutes of so, to... er, let your body prepare itself for the onslaught of orgasms." That was another appropriation from The Banshee and the Oil Baron, a novel remarkable for its heroine turning from a banshee into a beautiful woman with the power of love (but largely also the massive wealth of her Muggle lover paying for extensive plastic surgery). Remus was really bad at dirty-talk, but it wasn't like his current sexual partner held a particularly high standard as it was. "You're going to love this, I promise."

With that, Mundungus stuck his backside into the air: it was the only part of his body not covered by ginger hair or freckles, but this made Remus' job no more enviable. "Should of brung some romantic music, or something," said Dung. "But no matters. You will be gentle on me?"

"Of course," Remus lied. Before he'd arrived at the Leaky, he was tempted to not bring lube, purely out of spite, but his conscience had eventually worked its magic and he'd coughed up to buy a tiny little tube from a Muggle pharmacy on the way over. That tube was in his hand now, and he squeezed a little around the top of the plug. "Are you ready?"

"Oh, yeah."

Remus saw no need to prolong the inevitable, and as quickly as he could manage without inflicting unnecessary injury on Dung, he inserted it, watching Dung's arse-cheeks clench as the flared tip penetrated him. Eventually, it could go no further, and with that, the jinx component of the plug took effect on Mundungus, as he fell down flat on the bed, unable to move save for speaking.

Mundungus groaned happily. "Oh, this is just 'mazin'ly erotic, Remus. I never would of thought you'd be into--"

"Can you move your arms or legs?"

Dung's face showed the signs of strain, but he shook his head. "Nup, can't move nothing."

"Good." And with that, Remus jumped off the bed, grabbed his robe, and aimed his wand directly at Mundungus, a cold, determined look on his face. "I'm sorry, but I can't take much more of this. You could have at least washed your underpants before coming here tonight."

"Oy, what gives? This isn't sexy t'all! In fact, this feels very much like the opposite of sexy."

"Now, listen here, you filthy old dodger. I know you've been nicking Sirius' things for years now, and I've turned a blind eye to it because I never thought it mattered before. But you've got something I want, and I don't intend to leave this inn room tonight until you've furnished said item."

"You cunty little weasel," said Mundungus. "You been leadin' me on."

"That's neither here nor there. Now, I'm not taking out that buttplug - which I might add, was very embarrassing to purchase, not to mention costly - until you give me the whereabouts of this." Remus pulled a scrap of paper from his robes pocket, and set it down so Mundungus could see it.

"That chavvy old locket? I gave it to me sister."

"You don't have a sister."

"I might have got one," Dung retorted, thoughtfully. "Don't know how many women me dad's got off with over the years."

"Whatever the case, I know you still have it. If you tell me where it is in the next ten minutes, I might even think of some kind of financial reimbursement."

"Oh, come off it," sneered Dung. "As if you've got any money."

"Let's just say that for an item like this, my buyer won't baulk at whatever you feel is a fair price for it."

"Ow, can't you take this bloody thing out of my nether regions?"

"Not until you say where it is. Come on, name a price."

"Twenty squids," said Dung, his face screwed up in concentration as he tried to break free from the jinxes. "Now, can't you let an ol' feller like me go?"

"Twenty galleons?"

"What, is it worth more than that?"

"Oh, no, not at all. But you won't get a knut of it until I've got it in my hands, safe and sound."

Dung considered this, chewing his tongue thoughtfully. "Twenty-five galleons?"

"Twenty."

"Twenty-three?"

"Twenty-one."

"Twenty-two, or you get nothing off me and I tell everyone you were sleazing yourself all over me, tryin' to get your jollies off," said Dung.

Fair price. "Twenty-two it is," said Remus. "Now, where is it?"

"S'in me right boot, under the insole," said Dung. "Cos then nobody can nick off with it, or nothing. Mind, but, they're a bit stinky."

No kidding thought Remus, as he took a deep breath and fished his hand into the boot. Dung had been true to his word, and when he pulled the lining out from inside the shoe, a locket on a chain dropped to the ground. "This is definitely the one you took from that antiques cabinet at Grimmauld Place?"

"On me mum's grave."

"Your mum's still alive."

"Whatever, she lives in Reading. That's kind of worse than being dead."

"You're the last person to be a snob about where people live," said Remus, rubbing the locket against his robes to get rid of some of the dirt. "But you didn't lie, for a change, so I won't short-shrift you." Remus reached into his pockets, and pulled out a small leather pouch that clinked with gold. He pulled a handful of gold out, and left it on the bed beside Dung.

"An' this thing up me arse?"

"Right. Waddiwasi!"

Mundungus yelled as it popped right out of him, and he ran his hands over his backside. "Me poor bum," he moaned.

"Oh, you'll be all right," said Remus, pulling on his shoes. "Glad to do business with you."

"Yeah, whatever. Next time, all you need do is ask and I might consider givin' it to you."

"You know that would never have happened," said Remus, and he pulled the door shut behind him.

***