pre_raphaelite1 (pre_raphaelite1) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2008-05-12 23:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | #lmom 2008, author: pre_raphaelite1, kink: cross-dressing, remus/sirius |
LMoM: Scentillation (Revisited) #12 [Remus/Sirius, PG-13]
Title: Scentillation (Revisited) #12: Kindly Moon
Author: pre_raphaelite1
Pairing: Remus/Sirius, implied Remus/Fenrir
Rating: PG-13
Kink(s): Crack. Cross-dressing, First times? (Sex tomorrow- I swear!)
Challenge: LMoM 2008
Word Count: 1075
Notes: All subtitles and summaries are names and descriptions of perfume oils from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and therefore belong to the BPAL powers that be. I'm merely fangirling them with Remus/Sirius pron. And HP belongs to JKR, of course. Click on the pervy_werewolf tag of my username for previous entries.
Today's Scent Description/Summary: Utterly ethereal, an exquisite expression of love: moonflower, lotus root, white gardenia, beeswax, peach blossom, blue musk, stargazer lily, golden osmanthus, ti, sandalwood, hyacinth, ylang ylang, and a touch of vanilla bean.
Scentillation(Revisited) #12: Kindly Moon
Fenrir showed up at the door with a bouquet of wild flowers and freshly washed hair, a few strands still damp against his scalp. He'd put on his best orange plaid suit, wrinkles pressed to the sides; and under it, a brand new red lace mansierre which he'd bought because it really brought out his eyes much more than his black or ivory ones.
He glanced at his watch, frowning at it when one of the white gloved hands and not yet joined the other one over the mouse's crotch. Damn- he was early. Was that okay? He knew he wasn't supposed to be late but was being early just as bad? Or worse? He could wait, just stand here and hope no one was watching him from across the street or inside the house and think he was some creep or a peeping tom or something.
Sighing, Fenrir decided that he'd just have to risk being early so he swept his hand down over the front of his suit jacket, feeling the supportive lines of the mansierre under it. Then he looked at the door and after a few moments of sheer terror he knocked briskly.
Then he remembered to check his zipper. His hand darted down to check it and he couldn't find the tab and it was open and oh god it had to go up again, please oh please, zip, zip-
The door swung open. His hands froze on his crotch and he slowly raised his head up, meeting the cool grey gaze of Sirius Black.
“Is there... something I can help you with?” He asked with one smoothly arched eyebrow.
“Er...” Damn Damn damn. This was all wrong! He was supposed to answer it with a smile and tell Fenrir that he'd been looking forward to meeting him and it wasn't supposed to be like this at all and oh god his hands were still on his groin!
“Well?”
Fenrir gave one final tug and his flies closed with glorious rasp, but his face was still hot. Maybe he should have used more aftershave. “I am here to see Remus, please.”
Sirius looked over him dubiously. “What for?”
“We- er- we have a date... sir?” Fenrir chewed his lower lip nervously, glancing behind Sirius, hoping Remus would hurry to the door. He had to have heard him knocking. Right?
“Ah. That's right. Remus told me about this.” His gaze move slow and uncomfortably intense over Fenrir and he reached up to make sure he'd taken off all the bits of tissue from his face. “So, where are you two going?”
“Er- Just- Er- for dinner at this Italian place- they have good spaghetti and Remus said once that he liked spaghetti and meatballs and he does, right? He's not changed his mind or anything... since yesterday?”
“It's possible.” Sirius' voice still hadn't changed tone yet. It was disturbingly even and he was still staring. Maybe it was his hair? Fenrir reached up to run his hand over his head in case any hairs were sticking oddly up. He couldn't feel anything wrong. So why was he still looking at him like he'd sprouted another head? Just to be safe, Fenrir checked both of his shoulders for spare heads. Relieved, he glanced back to the imposing man in the doorway.
“So- er- is he ready?” Fenrir asked hopefully.
“I'll see.” Sirius turned on his heel and strode away.
Now what? Just wait? What if Remus had changed his mind? About dinner? Or the date? Or him? If that had happeend, Fenrir have to crawl into a hole and die. He couldn't show his face around the town ever again. People might think there was something horribly wrong with him! Like he was a leper or giant pus pocket or a one of those pathetic blokes who never has a date because he has awful taste in clothes and doesn't realise how tragically awkward he is! That would be the worst. He could never sink that low.
Fenrir was starting to get nervous, the skin on his wrist creeping a bit. He rubbed at it and something squished. Curiously he blinked down at it and saw a smear of a bug. Peering closer at the flowers, he saw a few more small creatures moving around in the petals and leaves. He shook the tall purple stalks briskly, swearing to find a different garden to pick them next time.
“Hello.” The word was quiet enough that Fenrir almost didn't hear it, too busy shaking the bouquet upside down. But it registered in his brain and he looked up and his mouth fell open.
Remus stood before him, dressed in a simple black jumper and fitted grey trousers and looked beautiful.
“Wow- I mean- wow. You look... wow.”
Remus blinked at this and glanced back behind him to Sirius whose arms were crossed over his chest as he watched them. Sirius shrugged and Remus returned his attention to Fenrir.
“Thank you?”
Fenrir nodded. “Are you ready to go? You look ready? Are you?”
“Yes. I am.” Remus gestured a bit at the flowers. “Did you want some help with those?”
He'd nearly forgotten! “Yes! I mean- no. No help. They're yours. I picked them for you.” He offered them up for Remus who took them gingerly- no doubt not wanting to damage the delicate petals.
“Sirius? Will you- put them into the... er- the kitchen for me?”
Sirius walked forward with a nod and took the bouquet, but paused before leaving. “What time will you be home?”
“Ten?” Fenrir asked perhaps a bit too quickly.
“Nine. And don't be late.” Sirius admonished sternly.
“Nine. Thank you, sir. We won't be, sir.” Fenrir offered up his hand shyly to Remus who took it carefully after a moment. He was obviously as scared as Fenrir was. Well, Fenrir would just have to make him comfortable. He gave Remus' hand a soft, reassuring squeeze, before leading him down the front steps.
...
Sirius watched them leave and shook his head. It could never work. He didn't care how many years of Cruciatus Therapy they'd put Fenrir through or how many people he was instructed to 'make amends with', he wasn't going to stop being a creep. In fact, Sirius decided as he looked at the bouquet of broken and mismatched flowers in his hand, he wasn't sure this was any kind of improvement.
First person to leave feedback gets to choose the BPAL scent as the prompt/inspiration for the next day’s ficlet! Should this not work out, I'll pick a reviewer at my discretion. Thanks to Blame red_squared for this one.