For all your sophisticated Cock-Tailing needs (midnitemarauder) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2007-09-24 00:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | author: midnitemarauder, kink: dirty talk, kink: fisting, kink: rimming, kink: spanking, remus/sirius |
FIC: Games People Play (in the middle of the night) [Remus/Sirius - NC-17] Part 1
Title: Games People Play (in the middle of the night)
Author: midnitemarauder
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Kinks: Rimming, Mild D/s, Dirty Talk, Spanking, 'Injudicious' fingering (i.e. interrupted/attempted fisting)
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling and Scholastic/Bloomsbury.
Word Count: ~11,000
Summary: In July, 1980, the Wizarding world is awash in turmoil, and trust is a fleeting commodity. Finding himself caught up in events he can't control, Sirius discovers that all is not fair in love and war.
Author's Notes: Written for the 2006 Reversathon at Livejournal, for red_squared who requested: Sirius/Remus, with established, mild D/s relationship, (top!Remus). "Remus wants to try a new kink/toy. Sirius freaks out". Many thanks to my betas inksheddings, mentha, xingou, and ladyblack888 for their input and invaluable assistance. ♥ ♥ Titled borrowed from the Alan Parsons Project.
July, 1980
"What a shite way to spend a Friday night. Crouching in a patch of muddy weeds in a Muggle garden. Really, you'd think they'd take proper care of it. Fuck, I think I'm getting a rash."
"Shhh!" Remus admonished, peering around the side of the shed they were sheltering behind. "Could be worse. At least we're not stuck in that horribly foul alley in Birmingham again."
"Sussex, Birmingham – it's all shite when it means skulking about in the middle of the night. Especially when I'd rather be doing anything else," Sirius murmured, stretching his neck with an audible crack. "Like sleeping, or getting pissed, or shagging."
"This coming from the man who spent seven years skulking about Hogwarts in the middle of the night for kicks," Remus whispered, still watching the house.
"Yes, well, it was dry there."
"Right. Dry, sunny Scotland."
"And cooler. Sodding heat wave. Less itchy, too." Sirius reached around awkwardly to try to scratch between his shoulder blades. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, mingling with the wet of his rain and mist-soaked t-shirt. It should have felt cool, but the heavy air was stifling and it pressed in on him, making him irritable. The thought of Remus dressed in long robes beside him made him perspire even more, and he scowled, scratching ineffectively.
"Nostalgia," Remus said, shaking his head. "Forgot about the great swarming clouds of insects, have you? Just change if you're so uncomfortable."
"Wet weedy dog is just as uncomfortable as wet weedy wizard. Probably get fleas. And it's too hot for all that fur." He looked at his watch. "Bugger it! I don't think anyone's coming tonight."
Remus sighed and sank down onto his knees, brushing his damp sweaty hair back from his forehead. "We still have to stay for a couple more hours yet," he said, squinting at his own watch. "You're right about the weather though. Too hot and damp by half, even for July. I can barely see the back door in all of this mist."
"We should move closer," Sirius suggested, yearning to move from their cramped, itchy confines and stretch his legs a bit.
"And what? Hide behind the washing line?" Remus asked. "Besides, we'll hear them Apparate. Well, we should do."
Sirius grunted and settled back down, ripping out the irritating patch of tall plants at his back and tossing them aside. He wiped his muddy hands on his thighs and frowned. No help for it; his jeans would definitely need washing now.
He felt completely useless sitting here, squatting in the drizzle. Guard duty, my arse, he thought irritably. Useless waste of time. We should be out doing… well, doing something.
Rationally, he knew what they were doing wasn't useless at all. In the week since the students had returned home from Hogwarts for summer holidays, the families of eight Muggleborn students had been attacked and murdered. The number of wizard disappearances – muggleborn, half-blood and pureblood alike – had risen sharply in the past several weeks. Voldemort and his Death Eater toadies were getting stronger and bolder. What had previously been the occasional random threat or attack had now taken on substance and the consequences were escalating.
With so much focus needed on their own frightened community, there were precious few resources to be spared on Muggle casualties of war. The Ministry had decided that those fatalities were best left for the Muggle authorities to manage amongst themselves. Obliviators were sent only to sort out Muggle sightings of wizarding activity, predominantly the Dark Mark, its sickly iridescent green silhouette lingering in the sky for hours, even days in the aftermath, homage to the inherent frailty of human life and the malevolence of those who would take it so casually.
Of course, Dumbledore and Moody were of a different mind from the Ministry in the matter of the protection of Muggle families; which was why he was presently wet, sweaty, itchy, irritable, and not, to his utter dismay, surrounded by cooling charms and being shagged within an inch of his life.
The small cottage house they were guarding in the tiny village of Mark Cross was the home of two Muggleborn students. Remus had told him the elder was a soon-to-be sixth year Gryffindor, his younger sister a fourth year Ravenclaw. Remus was like that – always so detail oriented, and as former Prefect, he likely remembered the boy from their own years at school. Sirius himself had a vague recollection, but didn't care about the specifics; he knew that the children and their families were worth protecting regardless.
His problem was that the patience and tedious inactivity required for this sort of endeavour were not his strongest qualities and never really had been. Unless, of course, the activity involved plotting mischief and causing mayhem of his own. But even those days were long behind him, or seemed to be. He had never been 'innocent', and no one would have dared accuse him of such, but he missed the simplicity of how things used to be, the carefree, faux innocence and ignorance of adolescence.
He idly wondered how Peter and Frank, and James and Emmeline were faring and was tempted to take the small mirror from his pocket to see, but was brought out of his musings by a sharp jab from Remus.
"What?"
"Did you hear that?" Remus asked peering intently into the gloom.
"Huh?"
"I thought I heard– Oi! There's a light inside! Two!" he exclaimed, breaking into a run and nearly skidding on the wet grass. "Damn! They must have gone in through the front door! Sirius!"
"On it!" Sirius replied, not bothering to watch while his Patronus galloped off and disappeared behind him. He quickly followed Remus. The back door burst open with a loud bang and the two rushed inside as a high-pitched scream sounded from upstairs.
**
"Nicely done, lads," Alastor Moody said, taking the two of them aside and leading them out into the hallway, away from the grave MLE officials talking quietly beside the splintered and tattered remains of the furniture in the master bedroom. Sirius spared a last glance around the room; his gaze flickered between the sheet-covered body in the corner, the young girl clutching at her mother with tears streaming down their faces, and the boy standing dry-eyed beside them, face white with shock.
"Shame about the father," Moody continued. "We'll get them sorted, send them off to stay with family. Elkins is in custody," he said, glancing at his watch. "Likely being interrogated right now. Knew him, did you?"
Remus nodded. "Ravenclaw, two years ahead of us."
"Fair Beater, he was," Sirius said, shaking his head, disgusted, and swiping at a drip of blood on his cheek. "A half-blood, too."
"Like me," Remus mumbled.
Sirius glanced up at him and frowned, turning to Moody. "There were three others. The younger Lestrange – Rabastan, the nasty git – and two we didn't see well enough to recognize. Bastards got away."
"We'll find them. Eventually," Moody muttered. "Best you two get on home. Might want to see a healer first. That slash looks ugly," he said, pointing his chin at Sirius. "Leave you with a nice scar if you're lucky, and you're looking a bit scorched yourself, Lupin."
"Nothing new there," Sirius said. "We'll manage. 'Night Alastor. Ready Remus?"
Remus nodded, and they Apparated away with a crack.
**
Sirius dropped his wand onto the coffee table and collapsed onto the couch, covering his eyes with his hand for a moment and then briskly scrubbing his fingers through his hair.
"Hell of a night. Could sleep for a week. Any firewhisky left?"
"Don't think so. You're getting the furniture wet, and you're still bleeding. Let me have a look at that," Remus said, kneeling in front of him and grasping his chin in his hand. He held his wand next to the wound and whispered softly.
Sirius closed his eyes and felt a tingle on his cheek. He opened them to find Remus grinning and very close, nearly nose to nose, fingers still holding his chin.
"There. That should do it. No scarring either. Though I must say," Remus said, lowering his voice, "it would have made you look rather dashing and rugged. Quite sexy, really." Remus leaned in and kissed him roughly, nipping at his lower lip, a glint of something almost feral in his eyes when he pulled back, and Sirius swallowed. Perhaps he wasn't so tired after all.
"All right, up you go," Remus said, getting to his feet and pulling Sirius up after him. He pulled him in close and gently bit Sirius' ear, licking a path around the edge.
"We could both do with a wash," he whispered. "You're not nearly wet enough for my liking."
"You mean I'm not naked enough," Sirius said slyly, grinding himself against Remus' hip, nuzzling and licking at his exposed neck. "Really, Moony, I'm plenty wet. Want me to show you?"
"Mmmm," Remus replied, taking a step back and pulling off Sirius' t-shirt. He ran his finger over a long red scorch mark on Sirius' belly and pressed. "Ooooh. Nice."
Sirius gasped and stepped back.
"Bit sore?"
Sirius nodded absently. "It'll keep. Come here." He stepped close again, reaching out and tugging at Remus' robes.
"Uh-uh," Remus said, shaking his head while batting Sirius' hands away. "Jeans. Off. Start the water. I'll be right behind you," he added, a wicked smile on his face as he ducked into the bedroom.
Sirius sighed and peeled off his damp, muddy jeans, falling back down onto the couch when they got stuck halfway down his legs. Dropping them in a heap on the floor, he padded into the bath and turned on the tap, stepping into the tub and closing his eyes as the warm water pelted his clammy skin. It stung where the water beat against the scratches on his belly and thigh, but not enough for him to move away.
He reached for the soap and heard the creak of the door hinges. A moment later Remus was behind him, his body pressed close, cock already hard against his arse, arms reaching around to take the soap from his hands.
"Let me," Remus murmured, turning Sirius to face him.
Sirius closed his eyes, sighing blissfully as the water beat a steady rhythm against his back while Remus' hands moved over his arms, chest, belly, and hips, his fingers and palms soothing and gentle. He held his breath momentarily, but Remus' fingers barely skimmed over the painful scorch mark, and he exhaled slowly, smiling when Remus' hands moved even lower.
Remus took a bit more time there, not that he was complaining. It felt far too good, the long, deft fingers stroking gently, cupping his bollocks, thumbs circling at the crease between groin and thigh. Sirius felt the briefest touch of lips to the tip of his cock before the hands moved further down to his thighs and calves.
"Turn around," Remus whispered, straightening up, his hands on Sirius' shoulders nudging him.
He opened his eyes and leaned his head forward, capturing Remus' mouth for a brief kiss – just the barest hint of tongue against his lips – before turning to face the wall, sluicing the soap from his body. Remus was already soaping his back, his fingers firm, massaging the aching muscles, his hands going lower, thumbs now digging blissfully into Sirius' lower back while his fingers pressed into his hips and down to his arse.
"Feels good, Moony. Ta," he mumbled, eyes closed again, bowing his head into the spray and letting the water pound against his skull. He straightened up after a moment, wiping the water from his eyes, and turned his head to look back over his shoulder.
"Your turn, now" he said with a hint of regret; Remus' hands felt wonderful on his skin and he was loath to move despite the urge to drag Remus off to their bed, wondering exactly what Remus had 'prepared' for them for tonight.
"In a bit," Remus replied, and Sirius could almost hear a smile in his voice. "Not finished with you just yet."
Remus leaned forward to put the soap back in the dish and kissed Sirius' cheek before stepping back and returning to his ministrations, moving his thumbs lower down and running them between his arse cheeks, rubbing, massaging. Remus nudged him forward so the shower spray ran over his back, and he braced his hands against the wall, watching his cock, hard and bobbing slightly while the soapy water spiralled down the drain below.
"Close your eyes," Remus said from behind him, and he complied. Remus pulled him back from the wall so that the water was beating down against his chest once more, and raised his arms above his head. There was the briefest of whispers and suddenly his wrists were tightly bound to the shower nozzle.
"Sly bastard," Sirius said, grinning.
Remus didn't reply. Sirius heard another whisper followed by a faint clattering on the tile floor.
Remus moved behind him once again and trailed kisses down his spine, licking at his wet skin. "You look so fucking beautiful like this," he murmured between kisses. "So wet. Taste so good."
Sirius moaned, knowing exactly what was coming next as Remus' hands once again moved between his arse cheeks, and he spread his legs as far as he could within the confines of the tub. The first touch of Remus' tongue made his cock literally jump and he pressed his palms together, leaning his head on his arm and sucking in a breath.
"Fuck yeah, Moony."
Remus, on his knees behind him, replied with a hum, spreading him open further. He closed his eyes. Remus was so fucking good at this, and what made it even better was that he truly loved doing it. He knew every inch of Sirius' body, knew exactly how to touch him or lick him just – "Oh! Right– oh, fuck! There! Yeah. Oh, God!"
His knees felt as fluid as the water, and he pushed back, thrusting against Remus' face, feeling his tongue as it dipped inside him, shallow at first, then deeper. The water was almost needle-sharp against his chest, his nipples growing more sensitive. He squirmed, his hands useless, unable to find much leverage.
Remus' hand clasped around his left ankle and gently tugged upward. He shifted his weight to keep his balance, leaning heavily on the shower nozzle, and lifted his leg, knee bent, foot resting comfortably on the flat side of the tub allowing Remus better access. Remus nearly growled in approval, pressing his tongue deeper inside, and Sirius shivered. The drumming of the water and the loud thrumming of his blood in his ears did nothing to mask the slick sucking humming noises coming from behind him, and he groaned, pressing his face harder against his bicep. He felt completely open and exposed and desperately in need of release.
"Please," he begged. "Fuck – please. Touch me Moony. Need it. Need to come."
If Remus heard, he gave no answer.
"Moony," he moaned. Remus only spread him wider and pressed his fingers into Sirius' hips, unrelenting.
"Fuck!" His cock ached to be touched. He wriggled, trying to hop backwards in an effort to direct the spray of water a little lower. He groaned when Remus pulled back and cried out as Remus slapped him sharply across his arse.
"Hush! Be still," Remus ordered. "Not finished with you."
He whimpered as Remus returned to his previous activities, his fingers digging in more forcibly, his tongue fucking him relentlessly.
"C'mon Remus. Oh God, you bastard. Fuck. Touch my cock, oh, please touch it, need to come, need to, need to– to…" He was babbling now, nearly sobbing, his arms tugging unconsciously against their bindings, his legs shaking. "Need to touch, let me touch, please Moony, let–"
Another slap landed across his bottom and he cried out again, but the sound was muffled as a gag magically materialized across his mouth, and suddenly Remus was standing behind him, tugging on the leather strap.
"You're a very bad boy, Sirius," he whispered, his voice husky. "I told you I wasn't finished. I was going to fuck you."
Sirius could feel Remus' cock rubbing against his arse, and he moaned.
"Yes, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Fuck you so hard, let you ride my cock," he purred. "Just the way you love it."
Sirius whimpered.
"But now…"
Sirius' hands were suddenly free and he was spun around so quickly, he nearly lost his balance. Remus steadied him and leaned over to turn off the tap. He rubbed his wrists, red where the bindings had dug into his skin in his struggles.
"On your knees," Remus ordered, pushing him down by his shoulders, and he fell to his knees, noticing with belated gratitude that Remus had placed a cushioning charm on the bottom of the tub.
Sirius watched Remus' face. He knew better than to touch himself now, though he was still achingly hard. He could feel Remus dragging his wand slowly over the gag, across his cheek and over his mouth. His eyes were dark, thoughtful, almost angry. He saw Remus flick his wrist, and the gag vanished.
He licked his lips.
Remus wasted no time. He tossed his wand aside, grabbed Sirius by his hair and plunged his cock into his mouth.
Sirius reached up to grasp Remus by his hips and closed his eyes.
"That's it, Sirius," Remus said, pulling back and thrusting shallowly. "A little more, just like that. I told you I was going to fuck you, fuck that pretty mouth of yours."
Sirius swallowed, relaxing his throat as Remus sped up his pace, thrusting deeper. He clenched his fingers, squeezing Remus' arse.
"Take it all. I know you can. Suck me. Yes, that's it, that's, oh yes, so good, so good."
Sirius swallowed again, listening to Remus' words becoming less coherent, and slid a finger inside him. He knew Remus was close, and was desperate to bring him off. His own cock was still so hard it was almost painful, and he fingered him roughly, tears of frustration prickling his eyes.
Remus was also thrusting roughly, his cock smooth and warm against Sirius' lips and tongue, slamming relentlessly against the back of his throat. His words were no more than a drawn out moan now, and Sirius clamped his lips tighter around Remus' cock, giving up any pretence of doing more than letting Remus simply fuck his mouth.
He pushed his finger in as far as he could, twisted it and hummed, and Remus was coming, gasping with a final thrust. Sirius swallowed again, mercifully without choking as Remus' movements slowed. The back of his throat was sore, but he continued to gently rub the flat of his tongue back and forth against the underside of Remus' cock.
Remus pulled out slowly and Sirius sank down on his heels, hands on his thighs, looking pleadingly up at Remus.
"Please, Moony," he rasped.
Remus knelt down in front of him and kissed him, tongue plunging where his cock had been only moments before. Sirius felt him take his hand and wrap it around his cock, and he nearly sobbed with relief. He stroked himself once, twice, and he was coming, his cries muffled into Remus' mouth.
Lying in bed a short time later, hair still damp against his pillow, he listened to Remus' steady breathing beside him. He was exhausted and sore, happily so, but his mind refused to cooperate, and his thoughts had inexplicably turned to the events earlier that evening - or earlier that morning; they had arrive home just before dawn, and sun had risen while they had been… otherwise occupied.
He turned his head to the side with some effort, and in the muted light filtering through the tatty curtains, Remus' sheet-clad body became a shrouded body with empty, sightless eyes. Remus' eyes were a deep brown, but the eyes that he saw were a cool grey, far too similar to his own. He shuddered and closed his eyes, a frown on his face as he drifted into that grey space between waking and sleep, grey and strewn with the shadows of the dead.