LMOM#6 - Ink
Title: Ink Author: hpsauce Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Remus/Seamus(/Dean) Kink(s): fetish (tattoo), wanking, voyeurism Challenge: Lusty Month of May 2009 Word count: 1894 Notes: at gala_apples' request. erm, never written anything like this before. finger-crossed it isn't cringe-worthy :)
Before Seamus, Remus had always had sex with the lights off. With Sirius he had been insistent that the other boy never see him naked, ashamed of his gangly limbs and lack of muscles. With Tonks he had preferred not to remind her of the fact that he was too old and poor for her, covered in greying hair and a patchwork of scars.
With Seamus, however, Remus could never bear to turn off the light. No matter how nervous his own body might make him, he would never sacrifice the sight of the younger man's body spread out across the bed. From the moment he had seen the edge of a lion's tail disappearing up the man's sleeve he had wanted to chase the inky lines on his skin.
He had spent hours exploring Seamus' body, mesmerised by the patterns spread across his body. The huge design that spread across his chest, the smaller ones that complimented the lines of his arms and legs, the tiny shamrock on the inside of his wrist. He never missed a chance to kiss and caress each one, making sure the room was flooded with light whenever Seamus removed an item of clothing, eating up his flesh with hungry eyes.
"Aren't you bored of them yet?" Seamus laughed, twisting under him as Remus brushed the tongues of flame on Seamus' hip which just happened to be situated over Seamus' one ticklish spot.
Remus could only smile because he didn't think he could ever tire of them. They were Seamus, more so that the lightly-freckled skin he had been born with. He traced the flames up, twisting his tongue over branches and leaves until he came of the place on Seamus' chest that has been left bare. He pressed a kiss to it and looked up at his lover.
"Might get another tattoo," Seamus muttered sleepily.
"Another one?" Remus asked with a small smile, looking at the packed canvas that was Seamus' body. He wrapped his arm around his waist, settling his face against the sleeping lion on Seamus' shoulder.
"Mmhm," Seamus mumbled and then he was asleep.
Remus remained awake for a few moments not daring to hope. He brushed his fingers over the bare skin over Seamus' heart, pale against the dark lines that surrounded it. Seamus muttered something in his sleep and wrapped an arm around Remus, stilling his hand as he pulled him close.
-
"Dean!" Seamus called, walking into the studio as if he owned it. Remus supposed he might as well. No doubt he had spent a lot of time in here to have become so covered in ink. "Dean!"
Dean Thomas appeared at the end of the studio. He was dressed in a pair of jeans, his torso a map and dark, abstract designs almost invisible against his skin. He smiled at Seamus and they embraced. Remus stood by the door, nervous to enter while the two friends reacquainted.
"Professor Lupin!" Dean cried, managing to make the situation even worse.
"Dean," Remus greeted, hovering in the doorway.
Seamus sighed and threw up his hands. Dean rolled his eyes at him and then looked over at Remus once again.
"Is it time?" he asked.
Remus was unsure of what exactly he was asking. He opened his mouth to ask for clarification when Seamus answered for him.
"Yes," Seamus said.
Dean looked at him, eyes narrowed. He looked back at Remus and then between the two a few times. He shook his head and then gestured to the back of the studio.
"Take a seat, Shae," he said, "I'll get Profes- Remus a cup of tea and we can get to work."
"I've got a sketch," Seamus said as he walked towards the back of the studio. He pulled off his shirt and Remus was mesmerised by the quivering of muscles under ink. The unicorn (Seamus' first, said with a blush that made Remus think he was not referring only to a tattoo) seemed to shimmer, skittish and precious.
"I'll have a look," Dean said from the corner, fiddling with a muggle-style kettle, "Any charms this time?"
"Yeah," Seamus said, "just the one but it's pretty much standard art. Simple enough."
"Hmm," Dean hummed, stirring the tea and then walking towards the back of the studio. Remus decided the options were either to be left behind or to follow the two men into the workshop. He didn't want to be left behind.
Seamus was reclined on a bench, chest bare and eyes closed. He was holding a crumpled piece of paper in one hand, the other curled loosely in the thick hairs at the start of his waistband.
Dean handed the teacup to Remus and climbed on Seamus' legs, straddling his knees. He ripped the paper from Seamus' grip none-to-gently and then stared at it, brow furrowed.
"You can do it?" Seamus asked.
"I did you a bloody roaring lion and a blushing unicorn, didn't I?" Dean replied with a wide grin. "Lie back."
Seamus, in contrast to the time spent with Remus in the bedroom, did as he was told. Remus settled down on an adjacent bench, watching in interest. Dean started dup the machine and looked down at the papers again.
"Sweet," he said with a smile.
"Feck off," Seamus muttered, eyes still closed.
"It is," Dean said. He picked up the quill-like needle. He tapped his wand twice to Seamus' skin, the pale, empty space above his heart and then stilled.
"You're sure, Seamus," he said.
"O'course," Seamus muttered, "get on with it."
"Just asking," Dean replied, "now lie back and think of England."
He pressed the needle to Seamus' skin, slowly tracing a curved line along the right of the space. Seamus made a soft hissing noise, eyes squeezed shut. Dean chuckled lowly. The line finished, Dean traced a second, identical line next to it. Seamus' leg, closest to Remus', shook. Remus set down his teacup, hardly able to breath, let alone drink.
"Alright, Shea?" Dean asked with a smirk, concentrating on Seamus' skin.
Seamus gave a rumbling growl in reply.
Dean smiled, tracing a small curve attached to the first. Remus watched, back rigid, as the line spread out from the needle. Seamus shivered when it was pulled away, as if a draft had swept through the room.
Remus shifted in the chair, embarrassed by the hardness of his cock. For Dean and Seamus this was part of their life, it was Dean's job. Remus hoped neither of them could see his reaction.
Seamus whimpered as the needle left his skin again. His hips, held in place by Dean's denim-clad thighs bucked slightly. Remus' breath caught and he looked away, feeling heat spreading across his cheeks. He was too old to be blushing, he told himself, too old to be embarrassed by things he couldn't control, too old to swoon at the sight of another man's chest.
"Feck," Seamus mumbled. Remus looked back up. Dean's hand was spread across Seamus' chest, a study in contrasts. His face was close to Seamus' nipple, needle working against the flesh of his sternum. He was so close he might be able to reach out with tongue and taste his work, skin upon ink upon skin.
Remus shifted in his seat. Seamus and Dean did not look up. Seamus' eyes were closed, an expression resembling the one he had when he came on his face. Divines ecstasy and pain. His hands curled against the arms of the chair. Dean's eyes did not waver and his hand did not quiver, he continued to work, slowly turning the skin of Seamus chest from pale white to darkest black.
Remus shifted again and then, sure that the two men were otherwise engaged, allowed his hand to move down and cup his aching cock through his jeans. The relief at the touch was short-lived. The rough fabric of his jeans was cruel and unforgiving. He rubbed it against the tender skin, eyes fixed on Seamus' ecstatic face and Dean's steady hands upon his chest.
Seamus keened slightly as Dean's hand brushed against his nipple and Dean stilled, looking up. Their eyes met and Dean smirked slightly before going back to work. Seamus' face was red and he turned his face away. He fixed his eyes on Remus for a second before he squeezed them shut again, sighing.
Remus focused again on Dean's hands, one resting over Seamus' chest, the other hovering over his heart. He pressed the needle once again into Seamus' skin, continuing to colour the area in dark ink. Remus' cock jumped again and he sighed before he pushed his hand under the waistband and allowed himself the momentary comfort of skin against skin.
"Oh God," Seamus growled as Dean traced a perfect line down his sternum.
Remus wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a small tug. He breathed out a slow breath, trying his best to calm himself and remain silent. Dean licked his lip, allowing a hint of tongue to remain visible as he traced a complicated shape against Seamus' skin.
"Merlin!" Seamus muttered.
Remus allowed himself a teasing touch to the tip of his cock, sweeping pre-cum down his length.
Seamus' hips bucked against Dean's thigh making Dean draw away the needle, a look of reproach on his face. Seamus gave his best kicked-puppy expression.
Remus stilled, breathing heavily.
Dean pressed the needle to Seamus' chest once more and Remus bit his lip, sweeping his hand up and down his cock as he watched more and more of Seamus' skin to disappear.
It was metamorphosis, perfect and complete and irreversible.
Remus groaned, unable to help himself. The two men remained contained in their own little world, Dean's eyes locked on his task, Seamus' eyes closed, his mouth open in a silent gasp.
Remus' feet curled in his toes. This had gone far enough. But there was no turning back. His hand remained wrapped around his cock, sliding up and down in a steady rhythm.
Dean removed the needle one final time and sat back, smiling broadly at his work.
"All done," he said. He reached out and ran a finger across the skin of Seamus' chest. Seamus chocked.
Remus bit down on his lip, squeezing his eyes closed.
"Forgot the charm," Seamus growled, husky and breathless.
"Ah," Dean said.
Remus opened his eyes, watching as Dean removed his wand from the back-pocket of his too-tight jeans and pressed it against the tattoo.
"Adhaero," Dean muttered.
Remus squeezed harder, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
"Aetas," Dean mumbled. Ink seemed to pour from his wand, the design on Seamus' chest seemed to pulse with life and Remus came with a cry that he managed to muffle against his arm, biting down into the flesh.
"Well?" Dean asked.
Seamus grinned and looked across as Remus, he sat up, twisting so his chest was beared to Remus, his side pressing against Dean's patterned chest.
"What d'ya think?"
A crescent moon stood out in stark relief against a dark sky, scattered with stars. Seamus pressed a finger to it, smiling softly.
Remus stared, breathing deeply as he tried to regain his breath. He felt light-headed and not just with the force of his orgasm. Seamus smiled, turning back to Dean. He pressed a soft kiss to Dean's cheek.