blackxlupin (blackxlupin) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2007-10-09 02:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | author: blackxlupin, kink: alpha remus, kink: biting, kink: finger sucking, kink: partially clothed sex, kink: voyeurism, remus/sirius |
Fic: Friction or Fire (RL/SB, R)
Title: Friction or Fire
Author: blackxlupin
Pairing: RL/SB
Rating: R
Kinks: ink, hands, voyeurism
Word Count: 1,159 words
Era: during OotP
A/N: Constructive criticism is very much appreciated.
“Oh, bugger.”
“What’s that?”
A pained look marring his tired face, Remus carefully contracted and relaxed the muscles in his writing hand. “Just a cramp,” he started to say, but he muttered a curse in the same breath. Apparently, the spasm had caused him to press down on his quill; the tip had broken and was now bleeding dark ink all over the page he’d spent the past twenty minutes working on.
Sirius Black reached over and quite pointlessly moved the pile of finished paperwork a little farther away from the estimated danger zone. “You shouldn’t strain yourself like that, you know. Take a few minutes every so often."
“Thank you,” said Remus coolly. “I’ll remember that next time I have to write half a week’s worth of reports in one night because you thought it might be fun to Transfigure our entire ink supply into lubricant and then conveniently forget how to reverse the process.”
“Don’t be such a hypocrite,” said Sirius, “You reaped the benefits every bit as much as I did.”
“Be that as it may, when the spell wore off I was the one who had to explain to Molly why I had ink stains all over my bed sheets and on the rug. And inside my trousers.”
“So you had to fake a little fetish,” trivialised Sirius, with the air of someone who faked them twice a week. “It’ll be nothing compared to explaining these unfinished reports to Dumbledore. Especially after he’s been so kind as to give you a day off to do your laundry and sort out your personal issues.”
To his credit, Remus didn’t look half as suspicious as he probably should have. “Why wouldn’t I be able to finish up on my reports tonight, Sirius?”
“Er…”
“Sirius?”
“Um…I might have Transfigured your spare quills into a late Christmas present for Hagrid?”
Remus gritted his teeth. “And conveniently forgotten how to reverse the process?”
The bastard actually had the nerve to look smug. “Nobody knows me quite like you do, Moony.”
“If I weren’t such a complete dunce at Transfiguration, Sirius Black, there would be a literal talking prick sitting in your chair right now.”
Sirius barked a laugh. “Good thing you’re arse, then. Although I can’t say I’d mind watching you talk your way out of that one with Molly.” But he seemed to take pity on poor, suffering Remus, and stretched out a hand to stroke his fingers. “Does it still hurt much?”
“Not really,” sighed Remus, “But I won’t be doing any more writing anytime soon.”
“Yes, it’s quite a shame,” Sirius assented softly, his gaze riveted to the long, callused fingers he was stroking. “I’m afraid we may just have to look for a less intensive way to put these hands to use…” He looked up at Remus’s face, where a small smile had begun to form. “Any ideas?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Padfoot,” said Remus in the unmistakably light tone of voice of someone who knew very well indeed. “It really feels as though I should allow my hands some rest tonight. After all, it wouldn’t do to come off leave with missing paperwork and additional injuries, would it?”
“Don’t worry, Moony,” Sirius whispered, that familiar wicked gleam in his eyes, “I’ll have you good as new in no time.” And before Remus could object or pull away, Sirius took his lover’s left index finger into his mouth and started sucking it softly. As always when he did this, a shiver crept through Remus’s body, and the muscles in his hand relaxed.
“Wicked bastard,” Remus murmured, but his heart wasn’t in it. He loved when Sirius sucked on his fingers, kissed his hands, licked his wrists. There was something uncannily sexual about a warm, wet tongue playing with his fingertips, where the skin was so very sensitive, or a strong jaw grazing its teeth down the fragile underside of his naked forearm. It never failed to drive him wild.
And Sirius, God bless his thoroughly evil heart, never failed to take advantage.
In a doomed attempt to save some dignity, Remus decided to wait until Sirius started in on his other hand before he would try and touch himself. To both their surprises, he lasted four whole fingers.
Of course, that’s when Sirius got jealous and decided he wanted Moony’s hand on his cock instead. He let go of the thumb he’d been so happily molesting and pulled his chair closer to Remus’s. He took the offending hand, raised it to his lips, and slowly, almost lazily, lapped at its wrist.
Remus tried his best not to moan, he really did.
Approximately two point five seconds later, Sirius Black found himself pinned firmly to the table, hands over his head, being mercilessly snogged and a little too enthusiastically groped by one hundred and seventy pounds of randy werewolf. (Really, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen it coming.)
Through the suddenly very thin layers of their robes and trousers, Remus's crotch moved frantically against his, attempting either to create friction or strike up a fire. Sirius couldn’t really tell which, but the way his blood was running, it looked as though Remus had better be prepared for both.
“Oh, God, yes…”
“Shut up,” Remus growled, and he pushed his tongue into Sirius’s mouth as if to make sure he’d be obeyed. His right hand pressing Sirius’s wrists hard to the table, he let his left wander up Sirius’s robes and under his shirt. The still-wet fingers roamed through coarse chest hair and elicited most satisfactory results upon contact with a nipple.
Sirius, who wanted nothing more than to just bloody well get fucked through the table already, managed to concentrate on the upper half of his body for exactly the time it took to lift his head, take aim, and sink his teeth into Remus Lupin’s earlobe.
Remus promptly retaliated by sinking his teeth into Sirius’s tongue.
They struggled for a few moments, until poor Sirius, driven half-mad by the sheer inefficiency of it all, threw all pretension of self-respect to the wind, did the unthinkable, and begged.
Wordlessly, Remus slid his hand down Sirius’s stomach and set to undoing his belt. He made sure to look Sirius straight in the eye as he wrapped a fist around his cock, stroking it with great deliberation.
“If you’re not careful, Padfoot,” he breathed, “you’ll come in your trousers.”
“If you’re not careful, Lupin, I’m going to come in yours!”
Remus, who knew a promise when he heard one, did not slacken his pace. As the movements of his hand grew steadily more frantic, and the words of encouragement Sirius had been muttering under his breath grew progressively harder to distinguish even to Remus’s well-trained ear, Nymphadora Tonks began to vaguely regret having chosen the living room Floo over the one in the kitchen.
At least she’d have been able to pick up some popcorn on the way.