lmom day twenty
Title: The Last Ride Rating: nc17 Pairing: Remus/Peter Wordcount: 1133 Kink(s): frottage, first time, semi-public sex. Challenge: LMOM 2009 Summary: Remus and Peter are different then Sirius and James. Notes: me and hpsauce are fic prompting each other every day. today's is "Remus/marauder-era-character - train sex (just out of view of people looking through the window, in plain view if the trolley-lady decides to pay a visit or other-character is desperate to tell you about their summer holidays)"
It sends a bit of a quake through Remus to realise this is going to be the last time he rode on the train to Hogwarts. Suddenly seven years of education didn't seem like nearly enough. He wasn't even at school yet, and it already seemed like a great clock was ticking over his head. He had no job prospects, regardless of how well he did on his NEWTs. No job meant no money, and no money meant he'd have to stay home with his mother as James and Sirius and Peter went on to have real lives.
"We're going to go talk to Lily and Alice," Sirius shouts as he and James seem to burst out of their seats. Sirius is always energy laden, but he seems especially pent up today.
"Alice is dating Frank, Sirius." Peter warns. Remus sighs, as right as Peter is Sirius is never going to listen. Telling that man to not chase after the bird he's currently interested in is as futile as telling the moon not to wax.
"Maybe not after today!" Sirius replies with a grin, and they both exit the room.
"So, what was your summer like?" Remus asks. They're the quiet ones, and to any other it would sound like awkward small talk. Any other would wonder how friends could last seven years if they didn't know how to talk to each other. But any other wouldn't understand the dynamic of the Marauders, how around James and Sirius they always have to be on, creating pranks and constantly bringing up in jokes and awake and spontaneous and passionate. Remus and Peter don't have to do that with each other.
"Sirius moved in with James," Peter replies.
"I know." It's all that has to be said, neither has to comment on how scary it is to think that the friendship is already cracking. Peter and Remus can't travel during the summer, but in the past neither could Sirius. Now that Sirius and James have had an entire summer together, who knows what the repercussions might be?
"I'm not ready for any of this." Peter doesn't have to list their dying friendship, Lily finally returning James' infatuation, their looming graduation, the war and the parts they'll have to play. Sirius and James would feign ignorance, or try to jolly Peter out of his funk, but Remus won't. Remus feels it too.
"We don't have much of a choice." No one can freeze time, not without freezing themselves.
Peter makes a noise that Remus can't make out, so he turns his head to the teen. His shaggy blondish hair shakes as he surges forward. Peter's hands are in a strange hug around his shoulders so he can't move, Peter's chin bumping his cheek, his face oddly sideways, his lips on Remus'. It takes Remus a moment to realise this isn't a stupid joke, that Peter means this kiss.
He's never thought about it, any of it. Not about having Peter as a partner, not about having a man as a partner. Not about having a partner at all, really. Remus is well aware of how dangerous and poor he is, and with each moon and the new scars that come along he's not getting any prettier.
But Peter seems serious enough, his tongue is darting back and forth along Remus' bottom lip. When Remus doesn't open Peter pulls away.
"I just don't understand why."
"You're... you. What, am I supposed to go it with one of them?" any outsider would think Peter is implying he would rather be with James or Sirius, but that's not what Remus hears. Remus hears that Sirius can be cruel and James is bossy, and even if they did agree to it, which they never would, it would be ugly. Peter wants Remus because they fit. Remus can understand that, even though he's not sure he wants it himself.
"I can't promise anything." It's the easiest way to say that having sex once does not guarantee a relationship, but it does open them to the possibility of awkward conversations and bad memories chipping away at their friendship.
"Christ, you can't promise we'll be alive this time next year. I don't need fecking promises."
Remus nods once, and this time he parts his lips so Peter's tongue can pass through. The larger boy's hands are soft against him, rubbing his shoulders, back, chest. Peter falls back onto the long bench and when Remus settles on top of him he brings his legs up too. The compartment is just wide enough for Peter to fully stretch out on the bench, the bench just wide enough that he doesn't fall off. It can't be comfortable, especially not with Remus' full weight on top of him, but Peter doesn't complain.
Peter doesn't bother to whisper sweet nothings, because that's what James would do to woo a girl. Peter doesn't nibble on his earlobe, asking dirty questions about his favourite things do to, because that's what Sirius would do with one of his many conquests. Peter doesn't ask if he's ever done this before because he knows Remus hasn't. Peter just thrusts up, so his cock and rounded belly push into Remus.
Instinctually, Remus pushes back down. It starts a battle of sorts, each teen's hips shoving at the other, but a battle they both win. Remus always changes into robes the moment he gets to the station and so all he has is pants and the heavy cloth of his uniform rubbing against his cock. As precome starts to pool at the head of his cock, his pants seem to grow tighter, clingier against him. Peter is wearing muggle jeans and a white shirt, Remus wonders vaguely how the hard line of zipper feels against him.
Peter starts groaning, muffled by Remus' mouth on his. His thrusts pick up and whilst most of Remus is concentrated on thrusting back in time with Peter, a small part recognises that if he's not careful he's going to fall right off the bench.
Peter's eyelids flutter as he arches his back, jostling Remus from his position. Remus feels the warmth through all the layers that means that Peter has come. He's never looked properly at a man's eyelashes, they seem absurdly long from so close up. As Remus continues to writhe on Peter, trying to get his own orgasm, Peter's hands begin to stroke his back.
"Come on, let go," Peter begins to murmur. Gentle words, nothing like Sirius or James. Which, Remus thinks, is a large part of the point of this. James and Sirius have something else that they don't now, after the summer. Now Remus and Peter have something they never will. With his head swimming with thoughts, Remus comes and slumps, exhausted, onto Peter.