FIC: Games People Play (in the middle of the night) [Remus/Sirius - NC-17] Part 2 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.
"Remus?" he called out. "You home?" Silence answered him.
He lit his wand and shined it over by the door. No scruffy brown shoes on the floor or cloak on the peg. He sighed and kicked off his shoes, sending them flying haphazardly against the wall. He lit the lamp by the sofa and sat down, propping his socked feet on the coffee table and leaning back into the cushions. The whisky was finally starting to numb his fingers and toes, and he determined he could do with some more.
He summoned a bottle from the kitchen and contemplated a glass. Deciding that he couldn't be bothered, he opened the bottle and took a healthy swig.
"Fuck," he uttered into the empty flat, nearly expecting to hear an echo, and deciding that maybe he had had too much to drink already. He put the bottle down on the table, got up and went into the bedroom, turning on the light as he entered. He stripped off his filthy t-shirt and tossed it into the corner with the other dirty laundry and pulled a clean shirt from the drawer. It was one of Remus'.
"Oh, bugger this," he exclaimed out loud and tossed the shirt back in the drawer unfolded, closing it sharply with his hip. He opened the top drawer instead and pulled out a pair of boxers, and quickly changed out of his jeans, adding them to the growing pile in the corner. As he turned to leave, his foot kicked at something sticking out from under the bed and he leaned down and picked it up. He grunted at the box in his hands and nearly slid it back underneath, but on second thought decided to bring it with him back into the living room.
He sat down on the sofa again, box in his lap, and reached once again for the bottle of whisky, taking another large swallow before removing the lid and peering inside. He'd already known what was inside the box; it wasn't a secret, only he'd never actually bothered to look before. He hadn't needed to since they kept a couple of the more commonly used items in the night table beside the bed anyway.
Inside were the rest of the toys and…appliances that now represented Remus' growing hobby and defined their sex life. He pawed through the contents, frowning. There were various sized dildos and plugs, both vibrating and non-, cock rings, manacles, paddles and straps, gags, flavoured lube, and a few things he didn't recognize or know the function of, and wasn't exactly sure he wanted to.
It wasn't as if he didn't enjoy it. At least, most of the time.
Remus and his insatiable libido had been more than a surprise, and a pleasant one at that.
He closed his eyes and smiled, remembering how astonished he'd been all throughout their Seventh Year. He'd already known Remus for the clever, mischievous bugger that he was, despite most of their school mates and professors believing he was little more than a quiet, swotty Prefect with ill-behaved friends, but somehow he hadn't been quite prepared. Once they'd progressed past their awkward schoolboy fumbling and Remus' more amorous and aggressive nature began to really surface, Sirius happily reaped the benefits of this good fortune.
And it had been fantastic. It still was. Remus loved the challenge, the thrill of the chase, and Sirius not only allowed himself to be captured, but revelled in it. The hunter and his willing prey; testing the boundaries, seeing just how far he could go. It was such a contrast to the personalities they showed to the rest of the world, and that alone made it all the more enticing.
But something inside of him was changing. He'd been feeling it for a while now, months even. He'd go to bed at night, occasionally sore, but sleepy and well sated with the euphoria of post-orgasmic bliss, Remus' warm body beside him. Yet in the moments before he'd drift off to sleep, a finger of…something, would creep into his mind, poking and prodding and shaping his dreams, cautioning that something somewhere was out of place, askew; something he wasn't even aware that he needed or even wanted was missing.
He teased James often about his normal, boring sex life, how he had sacrificed his masculinity by succumbing to the girly aspects of relationships. Real men never cuddled, or at least they never called it that by name. They just got off, and often.
But he'd watched James very closely over the years, seen him grow from a fat-headed immature git into a loving, caring boyfriend and husband, and now, soon-to-be father, and if he was honest with himself, there was much to be envied in that. He saw the gentle, intimate touches between James and Lily when they thought no one was looking, the way they'd smile, eyes only for each other, as if that single glance held all the secrets of the universe, and it was far more than physical desire that sustained them.
Oh, he loved Remus and knew that Remus loved him in return. Not that they spoke much of such things, but he couldn't imagine spending his life with anyone else, and he knew full well that their path involved a different journey from the one James and Lily had taken. It wasn't the notions of marriage and children that had him envious of his best friend, or even love itself.
Remus didn't look at him the way James looked at Lily. Had he ever? Maybe he had once, and in his ignorance he just hadn't noticed. He'd never really been attuned to that sort of thing. Only now that he was, the looks he received were ones of desire, yes, always desire, but more… hungry, needful, lust-filled, even desperate. Their touches were rarely gentle anymore, too often rough and demanding; there was more violence than tenderness in their kisses.
He took another swallow from the bottle and tossed the box aside, disgusted. Toys and games were fun, exciting even, but that's all it ever seemed to be. He himself had simply become another toy in Remus' collection.
"Fuck me!" he said aloud to the empty flat. "I'm a bloody buggering big girl's blouse! And I'm also talking to myself. Right. Brilliant. Completely lost my mind. Fuck. Mother would be so proud. Way to go, Black," he added, hoisting the bottle in a toast to himself and taking another swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"In for a sickle. Though I suppose if I want to have an intelligent conversation, who better to talk to, yeah? Ha bloody ha. Now there's a laugh. Such wit, Black. Such stellar wit. Ha ha! Stellar! You're a bloody genius, you are. Oh fuck," he gasped, feeling a sob rising in his throat.
He cleared his throat and scowled down at the bottle in his hand, leaning forward and plunking it down on the table. "Had enough of you," he said, sighing and leaning back again.
He covered his face with his hands. "Goddamn it, Remus!" he cried. "What the fucking hell were you doing there? And where the fuck are you now?" He dropped his hands to his lap and closed his eyes, his stomach tight and his throat raw from more than just the whisky.
He so badly wanted – no, needed an answer. But even the little sarcastic voice in his head was silent. He was afraid of what the answer might be. Afraid that Remus wouldn't, or couldn't answer – not with any reply that he wanted to hear, and for that alone, he knew he could never ask.
He leaned his head down onto the armrest and curled himself up, elbows and knees bent and tucked, eyes still closed. He wouldn't cry, he told himself, because he never cried. Not when his father had beat him for his insolence or his mother hexed him for his proud defiance, not when he ran away at sixteen, not when he'd nearly got Remus killed because he'd been a stupid prick, not when his father died last year, and not even when his brother had been killed just this past Christmas.
He fell into an uneasy sleep, images of Regulus once again flashing through his mind, haunting his dreams; Regulus lying on the ground, grey eyes blank, staring unseeing at a tall hooded figure swathed in shadows standing over him. A figure with dark eyes, brown hair and long pale fingers, gazing up at the haloed blood-red full moon above, watching eagerly as the sphere twisted and warped and elongated into an iridescent green skull…
**
"Padfoot!"
"Huh? Wha? Whizzit?"
He sat up abruptly, reaching vainly for his wand, heart racing, blinking in the bright light from the lamp.
"It's me," Remus said. "What are you doing sleeping out here? Ah, I see," he added, noticing the half-empty bottle of firewhisky on the table. "That sort of night was it?"
Sirius continued to blink, his mind still quite foggy from drink. Christ, how much had he drunk?
Remus sat down beside him on the couch and jumped up, startled. He looked down and picked up the box, a wicked smile spreading over his face when he recognized it.
"Missed me, did you?"
"Huh?" Sirius shook his head trying to shake off his fatigue and winced. He rested his elbows on his knees, rubbed his temples and tried to remember what Remus had asked of him. "Oh. Yeah. S'pose I did."
"Glad to hear it. Missed you, too," Remus said, checking the couch for stray objects before sitting down once again.
"Oh, er, good. Right."
Remus leaned closer and nuzzled against Sirius' collarbone. "You're rather sweet when you're muzzy like– Christ, Padfoot," he exclaimed, sitting up. "You smell like a rubbish heap! Just what have you been up to? Slumming with Mundungus or did you trip and fall into a bin?"
"S'out with Prongs. We were… Oh! We, er," he trailed off, not daring to mention the foul alley or the pub in Knockturn.
"If he came home smelling like you, Lily will have hexed his bollocks off."
Sirius grunted. "The Leaky. He didn't." He rubbed his eyes and scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Think I, er, had an accident."
Remus shook his head and clucked his tongue. "I'm sure I don't want to know. No wonder you're out here on the couch. But you're home safe. That's all that matters."
"Mmmm," Sirius said noncommittally. "So…"
Remus raised his eyebrows.
"How was… I mean," Sirius shrugged his shoulders, his stomach slightly queasy. "Right. I know. We don't talk about it. I just…" He scowled at Remus' blank expression. "Fine."
"Look, Sirius. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I hated being away. And I'm sorry I got back later than expected. Things were…" he trailed off, sighing. "I know you worry, I worry about you as well, but I couldn't…" He shrugged.
"I need to take a piss," Sirius said, getting up and walking to the loo. He closed the door behind him, something he rarely did, and sighed. He looked in the mirror, scowling at his bloodshot eyes in the reflection, and moved to the toilet to piss. All manner of things were flitting through his mind now that he was awake. Things were what? You couldn't what? The questions lay between them like a chasm, unasked and unanswered. A cold finger of doubt crept up his spine and he shuddered.
There's a bloody good explanation. I know there is. Fucking hell, it's Remus! he argued with himself. We've lived together for ten years, shared a bed for three. Nobody knows him better than I do. Not even his own bloody mother!
"Sirius?"
"Yeah."
"Can I come in?"
"S'unlocked."
Remus opened the door and peered inside. "Considering we don't have a lock on the door and your wand is out on the table, I should hope so. You okay?"
"Yeah. Fine," he said, flushing the toilet and turning on the tap in the sink.
"I wanted to have a shower. I could do with a wash. You could do with one as well," Remus said, raising his eyebrows.
"Yeah, okay." He turned off the sink tap, leaned over and reached down to turn on the shower, stripped off his boxers and stepped into the tub.
Remus shed his own clothes and followed, pulling the curtain closed behind him.
"Here," Sirius said, stepping around him while soaping his chest and belly, allowing Remus to stand under the spray. He watched as Remus closed his eyes and ducked his head under the water, studying his body, looking for hints, clues. His shoulders were stiff and tense, and there was a small scratch on his arm, but otherwise nothing. He sighed, stepped closer, and began washing Remus' back.
Remus rolled his shoulders backwards and relaxed, exhaling loudly. "Thanks, Pads."
"Mmhmm," Sirius replied, reaching around his chest and continuing his ministrations. When he was finished, Remus took the soap from his hand and washed him in return, hands gentle, and they took it in turns to step under the spray to rinse.
Remus turned off the tap and turned to face him. He took Sirius' hand in his, raising it to his lips, and kissed his knuckles. He offered a small smile, the right side of his mouth quirking upward, and Sirius relented, leaning in to kiss him.
"Mmmm. You taste like whisky," Remus said, his voice low and throaty. "I could quite possibly get pissed just licking your mouth.”
Sirius felt his cock twitch. Damn. Well, it had been more than a week. "Care to test that theory?"
"I think that could be arranged, yes. Should dry off first," Remus said, handing him a towel, and pulling him close to kiss him again, hungrily.
They dried off quickly, if awkwardly, leaving their dirty clothing and damp towels on the floor of the bath and, despite stopping to kiss and grope one another every second step, managed to stumble into bedroom.
They crawled onto the bed, and Remus climbed behind him, licking and sucking on the back of his neck hard enough to leave several marks. He rubbed his cock against Sirius' arse, fingers pinching and twisting at his nipples, firmly but not roughly. It felt bloody wonderful, Remus' warmth against his back, his long-fingered hands touching him, skin on skin. It felt real and immediate… comforting. Loving. Sirius reached down and stroked his own cock, moaning softly.
"Need to touch you," Remus said, and his hand moved lower, stroking Sirius' belly, his hipbones, circling lower still. "Need to– oh, no you don't," he admonished, pushing Sirius' hand away. "You've been doing that all week, haven't you? Not tonight. Tonight you belong to me, Sirius Black. Your cock, your arse, they're mine. All mine," he murmured, scraping his teeth across the back of Sirius' neck.
Sirius shivered as he felt Remus' teeth clamp down on the nape, leaving deep indentations, but not biting sharply enough to break the skin, soft wet tongue licking and soothing. Remus pushed him over onto his belly and straddled his back, kissing his shoulder blades, licking down his spine, and Sirius squirmed, grinding his cock into the sheets.
Remus slid down his body, stilling his hips. "No!" he said sharply, and Sirius started, held his breath. "You don't come until I say."
He exhaled slowly and felt Remus nuzzling between his arse cheeks, biting him roughly and then kissing the sting away. He licked up the crease and Sirius felt him crawl back up, running his hands over his arms and stretching them out over his head. He nudged him over a bit, body facing diagonally toward the post in the corner.
There was a silk scarf tied to the bedpost there, and Sirius watched, slightly apprehensive and…disappointed, as Remus tugged it, looped it around his wrists and pulled the slip knot tight.
"Remus," he said, "I–"
"Shhh," Remus whispered, kissing Sirius to shush him. "It's only a slip knot. You look so fucking gorgeous like this. Love seeing you. Want to touch you. Too long away. Need you, need to feel you," he said, running his hands over Sirius' back and shoulders.
"Yeah," Sirius whispered, clenching his arse and trying not to grind into the bedding below him. "S'nice."
Remus lay on top of him, his weight warm and heavy, hipbones sharp, rubbing himself against him like a cat, cheek stubble rough and scratchy against his shoulder.
"Need you," Remus whispered in his ear, his voice sounding…anxious. "Need to fuck you."
"Mmmm," Sirius rumbled. He wanted that, too. Truth was, despite his teasing with James earlier, Sirius never used any of their various 'toys' when Remus was away. Not anymore. At first he'd decided he simply couldn't be bothered. Wanking was easy and less complicated, and got the job done quickly. It wasn't until recently that he realized there was more to it.
Magic – charms, and spells of all sorts – could fill the empty spaces, make use of the toys in ways the Muggles never dreamed, a richer experience at the flick of a wand, but when the fantasy was over and he opened his eyes, the realization that he was alone was daunting. He not only preferred the real thing to substitutes, but it was the intimacy, the touching, which he craved most. Listening to all the noises and sounds Remus made – sounds of pleasure, enjoyment, desire – the gasps and groans, the way he loved to talk and tell him all of the filthy things he wanted to do to him. The Remus that belonged only to him, the man no one else ever got to see. So many hidden facets to that personality…
That thought jolted him from his reverie and he sat up pushing himself up onto his elbows, turning his head to the side. Remus had rolled off him, he realized, and was rummaging in the top drawer of the night table. He returned a moment later wearing a triumphant grin.
"Shhh," Remus whispered, settling beside him, a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing, urging him to lie down. He spied the familiar tube and relaxed, closing his eyes, felt Remus' hands on his back, his thighs, his arse.
A brief touch of cool slickness, and he settled down, his body relaxing further, welcoming the intrusion after the week-long absence. He sighed happily and rubbed his cheek against the sheets, wriggling and pushing gently back onto Remus' finger.
Remus chuckled. "Like it, do you? Oh, yes, you do. So fucking beautiful. You want another one, don't you?"
"Mmmm, fuck yeah," Sirius moaned, and Remus laughed again and complied. He felt the initial burn and pushed back. Remus sped up his pace and the slick slap and slide of his fingers mingled with Sirius' breathy panting. "Fuck, good Moony. More."
"Yes," Remus hissed, and he was pushing in a third, twisting his fingers, pressing them deeper.
Laying flat on his belly with his legs spread wide, Sirius thrust his hips, struggling for better leverage. "On your knees," Remus' voice buzzed in his ear, and he pulled himself up with a whimper, the motion sending Remus' fingers even deeper.
"Yes, just like that Sirius, open your legs for me, wider, yes, oh yes, you feel so good, c'mon, fuck my hand."
Sirius groaned, rocking himself on Remus' fingers, anticipating the moment when Remus would replace his fingers with his cock. "Fuck me, Moony," he gasped. "Need you. Now. Right now."
He felt Remus rest his cheek against his hip, felt his lips and the scratch of stubble on his sensitive skin, a stark contrast.
"Oh, Sirius," he murmured. "Do you remember? The first time you let me touch you. The first time you sucked my cock, the first time you let me fuck you. You were always so beautiful, so willing, reckless."
Sirius was grinding back onto his fingers, ready, waiting, and was startled when he felt Remus push in a fourth finger. He grunted at the initial pain, sucking in his breath and slowing his pace, feeling the cool slickness of lubricant against the burn as his muscles stretched further to accommodate the new girth.
Remus didn't slow his pace, fingers stretching and pumping. "Fuck, yes. That's it, yes. You can take it, open for me, just like that. So tight. So fucking tight. Want to crawl inside you, feels so good. You'll love this, I promise. Won't hurt but a minute, so good, gorgeous," Remus crooned, twisting his fingers in a circular motion while still fucking him hard and rough. "Just a little more."
Sirius' breath was coming in gasps, sharp bursts of pleasuring pain with every twist, every thrust as he rocked himself slowly on Remus' fingers. He felt so full, overwhelmed, like he would rupture at any moment, unsure of how much more his body could take. When he became aware of a fifth finger prodding at his entrance, he stiffened and stilled.
"Moony?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Just a little more, yes, almost there," Remus continued, oblivious. "Want to reach inside you. Fuck you with my whole hand."
"Moony," Sirius said louder, crawling forward, trying to drag himself away from Remus' grasp, his stomach clenching as a wave of panic stole over him. "Remus, stop."
"Need you, Sirius," he said, his hand still thrusting, twisting and stretching, straining to press deeper and deeper, his other hand grasping Sirius' hip tightly, trying to hold him still. "Don't want to stop. Just relax. I promise it'll feel so good."
"Remus!" Sirius yelled, struggling to pull away, feeling slightly dizzy, his heart racing, but Remus still held him, following him as he moved.
"Want to be inside you. All the way inside. Don't–"
Sirius twisted his body from Remus' grasp and pulled away roughly, wincing in pain. He flipped himself over, sat down hard and winced again as he landed firmly on his bottom, his arms awkward, twisted to his side, still tied to the bedpost. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were wide, wild.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sirius shouted. He was staring at Remus and trying to wriggle his wrists and loosen the knot on the scarf.
Remus simply stared back it him, his mouth open in a small 'o'.
"What the fuck were you trying to do? You bastard! I fucking said stop. It's not – Christ! Would you take this fucking thing off me?" he demanded, shifting his body around and holding his hands out to Remus.
Remus reached out to loosen the knot and Sirius flinched when he touched his wrist.
"Fuck," Remus said softly, taking hold of Sirius' wrists and working at the knot. "M'sorry," he murmured, and Sirius noticed that Remus' hands were shaking slightly as he fumbled with the scarf.
"I just wanted… I needed…" The knot came free and Remus' voice trailed off. He shrugged his shoulders, bowed his head and dropped his hands listlessly to his knees. "Fuck. I don't know."
Sirius sat and watched him, his knees drawn up against his chest, rubbing his wrists and rocking slowly. There were so many things he wanted to do, to say; he wanted to shout some more, wanted to grip Remus by his shoulders and shake him, wanted to rant and rave and throw things about the room, smash and shatter them against the wall. And he wanted to curl up into a ball and sob himself to sleep.
He did none of these things, only sat and stared in silence, his earlier arousal forgotten.
Remus looked up at him then, his eyes partially hidden by his fringe. "I honestly don't know what to say. I didn't expect…"
"Yeah," Sirius said, shrugging.
"It's…" Remus brushed his hair back from his eyes and sat up straighter. "I am sorry. I didn't think… Yes, well, and how's that for irony, yeah?" he asked, his lips twitching in an attempt at a smile.
"Hmph," Sirius replied, grudgingly. "S'pose I've done my share of not thinking over the years."
"Just a bit," Remus replied, still cautious.
"S'just… what's happening to us, Moony? All the games. Yeah, it's great, 'course I like it. But sometimes… Fuck. I don't know either." He shrugged and rested his forehead on his knees.
He heard the sheets rustling and felt a tentative hand on his head. He sighed and shifted a bit closer while Remus ran his hand gently through his hair.
"Some days," Remus began and halted, cleared his throat. "Some days, I think the whole world could simply disappear and die, and me along with it, and I wouldn't care. It all seems so… so futile."
Sirius closed his eyes as Remus continued to stroke his hair. "And then I come home and I see you here – and it still amazes me, you know. Even after all this time.
"But I see you, and I… I touch you, and I get to love you. And that's my hope. It's what sustains me. And I know it sounds daft. But every time we come home, alive and safe…"
His hand stilled and Sirius raised his head and looked at him.
Remus shrugged. "Here, in the bedroom. With you. This is where I live. Everywhere else… Everywhere else I simply exist."
Sirius shook his head slowly and yawned.
"Tired?" Remus asked.
Sirius grunted in reply.
"Come here," Remus said. "Lie down."
He shifted over, wincing slightly as he moved over a wrinkle in the blanket.
"Damn," Remus grimaced. "I'm sorry."
"S'ok," he said lying down on his side
Remus tugged the blanket free and covered them both, curling on his side to face Sirius.
They lay there, not speaking, just watching each other's faces and breathing, which suited him just fine. He didn't know what to think, what to make of Remus' words and actions, his secrets, or how to reconcile them.
After a while, he felt Remus' finger brush against his hip. He quirked his lip and Remus shrugged, a tentative smile playing across his features.
"Randy bastard," Sirius murmured.
Remus laughed, and moved his hand lower. Sirius' cock responded immediately to his touch, and Remus laughed again.
"Now who's the randy bastard?"
"Shut it, you," Sirius replied, smacking him lightly on his belly. He reached down and grasped Remus' still-hard cock and curled his fingers around it, running them lightly up and down the length, circling his thumb around the tip and sliding it back down the underside in a slow steady rhythm.
Remus leaned in to kiss him and he closed his eyes, willing away all of his uncertainties, concentrating on the feel of Remus' fingers on him, the smooth warm skin of Remus' cock beneath his own fingers, Remus' breath gentle on his face.
They did not speak, and for once words were not needed; nothing existed beyond their soft gasps and intermittent kisses, the slick glide of flesh on flesh as they brought each other off, searching for solace in each other's touch, if only for a moment.
Afterwards, Sirius stretched, cat-like, and rolled onto his back, wincing as he was still sore from earlier. He turned onto his other side, facing away from Remus, but it was too late; the calm circle of quiet had broken and the world rushed back in with a loud roar.
Remus spooned up behind him, put his arm across Sirius' hip and pulled him close. Sirius thought he heard Remus mumble another apology against his neck, voice muffled and barely audible. Or perhaps it had only been in his head. He wasn't quite sure of anything right now.
"Sirius?" Remus murmured, nuzzling the back of his neck.
"Mmm?"
"I do love you."
"I know, Moony," Sirius replied, a bit sadly. And he did know.
He lay unmoving, listening as Remus' breathing slowed, steadied, his arm limp where it lay across Sirius' hip, and the room growing brighter as the sun rose higher in the sky. He did not sleep.