hpsauce (hpsauce) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2009-05-21 21:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | #lmom 2009, author: hpsauce, kink: food smut, remus/terry boot |
LMOM#21 - Good Taste
Title: Good Taste
Author: hpsauce
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Remus/Terry
Kink(s): footsmut (ice-cream)
Challenge: Lusty Month of May 2009
Word count: 2457
Notes: AU - because Remus is alive and lkicking. Not much else to say *winces* The lovely miss apples asked for a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff working in Fortescue's. I thought Terry deserved a little love :)
For the first time that Remus could remember, he had a reason to be glad of his lycanthropy. He was quite sure if the curse had not raised his metabolism to ridiculously high levels he was sure he would have become round with the amount of ice-cream he had begun eating.
It wasn't that he enjoyed ice-cream more than any other witch or wizard. As a child he had always begged to be able to go to Fortescue's when his father had taken him to Diagon Alley, but over the years it had become less of a priority. By the time he was fifteen, Florish and Blott's had taken the place of Fortescue's as first stop. By the time he was twenty-one, he didn't have the money to spend on foolish luxuries.
It was nothing more than a wave of nostalgia which had led to Remus entering Fortescue's a few months before. The shop had stood empty and untidy, unchanged from the moment Florean Fortescue had been stolen away in the middle of the night. Remus had learnt to sweep his gaze past it without looking. He always felt ill when someone mentioned The War.
And then one day, the tables had appeared outside, the windows had been repaired and Hogwarts students stood around the door in a group so large that Remus had been forced from the pavement.
Looking up, he had seen the sign above the door returned to it's pastel-coloured glory, showing delicious ice-creams of every flavour. He had decided, at that very moment, that he deserved a treat.
He had pushed his way through the door and smiled at the man behind the counter. The man had smiled back. Any and all thoughts of ice-cream were driven from his head. Well. Almost all of them.
"Professor Lupin," the boy said with a faint blush and a respectful nod of his head, "what can I do y- for you?"
Remus had swallowed. His mind had felt rather like he had eaten a large quantity of ice-cream already, frozen and useless. He smiled.
"A scoop of chocolate and pepper, please, Terry," he'd said.
Terry Boot had grinned and dove to his task. Handing it across the counter, his fingers had brushed against Remus'. The spark that shot through Remus' hand reminded him of holding his first wand.
He turned quickly on his heel and left as quickly as he could.
The ice-cream was very good - but Remus was hardly in a fit state of mind to enjoy it.
When he passed the shop again, three days later, he had told himself that he was feeling rather over-heated. It was a sunny day and ice-cream made sense.
He ordered a pumpkin sorbet, blushed when Terry handed the cone over and shuffled from the room before he could register Terry's own pink cheeks. Once the cone was finished, he looked at his reflection in Olivander's window, shaking his head guiltily.
Terry was a former student. A Ravenclaw. He had much better sense than to be getting involved with a poor lycanthropic ex-professor.
He sighed.
And returned to the shop again within three days.
And then two days after that.
And then he was offered a job at the Prophet and he could see Fortescue's from the window and the office was airless and hot and the paperwork was exhausting and by lunchtime he needed something to cheer himself up.
His co-worker, a giggly young thing with too-much make-up and too-little skirt raised her eyebrow at his choice of lunch. When it continued every day for a month she began to get suspicious.
"I love ice-cream," he said in explanation (although, to be fair, he hardly tasted it).
"Lucky you," she said, "one lick and it goes straight to my thighs."
Remus smiled sweetly and licked at the butterscotch cone. It was sickly-sweet. Remus decided he would have to go back tomorrow (a Sunday) and tell Terry that a less sweet concoction might work better as the Flavour of the Week.
That Sunday, Remus arrived to find the shop almost empty. It seemed that Fortescue's alone was not enough to draw people to Diagon Alley. With the shops closed, Fortescue's was like a ghost town.
Terry smiled at him as the door opened, his cheeks flushed pink. He looked down, his fringe falling over his eyes. His smile was still blinding.
"Hello," he said softly, "what can I do for you today?"
"Hello, Terry," Remus greeted softly. His throat felt too-tight as always. It seemed painfully clear, without the sound of screaming children and gossiping grandmothers to drown him out.
He looked down at the counter to distract himself, ensuring he wouldn't have to look up at Terry again. He didn't know what the sight of those blue eyes might do to him.
"You never stay," Terry said weakly.
"I have work," Remus replied hurriedly, "and there are never any tables free."
"Today?" Terry said, "I could make you a sundae."
"I'm not sure," Remus said. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. This was different to the norm. His whole self-control rested on the routine. Who knew what he might do if forced to share a room with (beautiful, blue-eyed, clever) Terry Boot.
"Come on," Terry said with a shaky laugh, "I could do with the company."
And Remus' resolve crumbled.
He sat down at one of the checked tables, watching as Terry bent over the ice-cream counter, arm outstretched. He had yet to lose the muscles lent to him by the War. His body, although almost as slight as Remus' own, showed signs of hidden strength. Remus swallowed as Terry straightened up, dribbling chocolate sauce onto the top of the ice-cream mountain.
A few drops fell onto his hand and he raised it to his lips, seemingly unthinking. He sucked at his chocolaty-fingers for a moment before smiling up at Remus.
Remus looked quickly away.
Terry set the sundae down before him. He smiled before dropping a cherry onto the cream-and-chocolate top. He sat down on the unoccupied chair beside Remus and rested his head on his hand, looking expectant.
"Tell me what you think," Terry said, "I usually use Fortescue's own recipes but I thought, well, it's nice to try something new, isn't it?"
This close, Remus had no choice but to look at him. His eyes were framed by dark lashes, his face almost hidden under a mass of dark curls, his smile was slightly lopsided. His lips were pink and slightly moist.
Remus dug his spoon into the ice-cream with a little more violence than he had meant to. He looked up at Terry as he sucked slowly on the first mouthful. Flavour erupted in his mouth, rich dark chocolate, cranberries, caramel, cinnamon. He didn't even know he had closed his eyes until he was startled into opening them again by a muffled moan.
He was unsure if it was Terry's or his own.
"Very," he muttered, "very good, Terry."
Terry smiled, open and boyish. His head listed to one side, his eyes fixed on Remus' face. His cheeks had moved from pink to crimson.
Remus scooped some more ice-cream onto his spoon.
"Do you want to taste?" he asked, almost kicking himself. Do you want a taste? What was he, fourteen?
"I don't like ice-cream," Terry said seriously.
Remus blinked.
"You don't like ice-cream?" he asked.
Terry shrugged and looked down. His eyes were fixed on the milky trail that was winding down the outside of the sundae glass. Remus sighed and put the second spoonful into his mouth.
Oh Merlin! Oranges and almonds and ginger. This time he knew the moan had come from his mouth. It was ridiculous to be so moved by ice-cream. But he couldn't help it.
"This is amazing," Remus muttered, swooping in for a third spoonful.
Port and fresh lemonade and cherries and-. Remus' toes actually curled. It was surely impossible for ice-cream to taste this good.
A hand closed around Remus' own and he opened his eyes. Terry's eyes were very close and very blue. Remus opened his mouth and Terry kissed him.
Terry's mouth was hot against Remus' chilled lips. His hands were cool and soft against Remus' cheeks. He gasped against Remus' open mouth, pressing his groin against Remus' thigh. Remus bit down on his lip, not meaning to hurt. Terry grabbed at his hair painfully, pressing them together, his cock against Remus' hip, his thigh between Remus' own shaking legs.
Remus pressed back, grinding his cock against Terry's leg. He touched one chilled hand to the back of Terry's neck, holding him still as he allowed Terry to suck on his tongue, filling his mouth and body with heat.
"God," Terry gasped, pulling away. His eyes were bright and sparkling. Their lips met again, a tentative brush that became more desperate within second. His hands tangled in Remus' shirt, pulling it roughly until he leaned away, allowing it to be dragged over Remus' head.
His hands patted at Remus' flyaway hair, his lips pressing against the pulse-point of Remus' neck. He licked the hollows of his throat, brushed the scars on his back with light, explorative touches. He pressed his thigh hard against Remus' cock and Remus groan, rocking forward, driving his own cock against Terry's bony hip.
Terry's shirt was quickly removed as he slipped to the floor. He knelt on the cold tiled, his hands tracing the angles of Remus' waist and hips before his fingers tickled along the raised scars. He licked along the largest one, from Remus' nipple to the patch of hair above his fly. He breathed upon the skin there, making Remus' skin explode into goose bumps.
Remus reached out, brushing his fingers against Terry's neck and shoulders. He traced the lines of his shoulders through the thin fabric of his shirt, leaned forward, burying his head in his thick hair.
Terry darted out of reach, his hands working Remus' fly as he slid lower. His fingers pressed the zip against Remus' cock, the denim scratching even through the fine fabric of his underpants.
Remus groaned, throwing his head back in the chair. His legs spread without thought, his feet sliding across the tile.
Terry freed his cock, lapping at the head as if it were one of his own creations. He closed his eyes, sucking on the very tip of Remus' cock with relish. Remus whimpered, his feet sliding further apart as he attempt to dig his heels into the floor. He reached out again, grabbing Terry's hair.
Terry pulled away.
His eyes were wide, his chest swelling with every breath. His throat moved, swallowing around unspoken words.
"I need-," he gasped and then shook his head, he reached into his back pocket. He flicked his wand and his clothes suddenly disappeared. He lay back on the tiles, his eyes dark and pleading.
Remus stared in surprise. Terry's body was slender, his limbs long. He had not quite lost the gangly frame of his youth. His chest was hairless, his shoulders formed of angular bones, his hips slender and sharp. His whole body seemed to pulse under Remus' scrutiny, his chest heaving and his hips twitching.
Remus dropped to the floor inelegantly, moving towards Terry in a hurried crawl. His jeans were caught around his ankles. Too late, he realised they had caught in the corner of the table.
Remus might have realised, had he his wits about him, that the rules of physics would not have led to Terry being splattered in ice-cream. Luckily, Remus was scrambling across the floor, hell-bent on devouring an attractive, naked young-man and so physics did not even cross his mind.
All that did cross his mind was that the pool of ice-cream that was rapidly melting against Terry's stomach looked delicious. He leant forward and licked it, tasting mint and chocolate mixed with the salt of Terry's skin. He lapped at it, chest pressed against Terry's cock as he leaned forward.
Terry whimpered, bucking upwards. His head was thrown back, revealing his throat. Below this, however, ice-cream had melted against his chest, leaving a trail of white in the hollow between his nipples. Remus leaned forward and lapped at this too, moving slowly up Terry's body as he chased the line upwards.
Strawberries and raspberries and Cornish cream and Terry's skin under his tongue.
Terry groaned, lowly, his hips pressed tightly to Remus' own. Their cocks rubbed together, electric friction. Remus leaned back, taking Terry's cock and his own in his hands. He pulled at them slowly, leaning his head back, eyes squeezed closed.
His hand was dry, callused, the friction was almost painful. He reached down, his hand sliding across the ice-cream splattered across the floor. He wrapped his hand back around their cocks.
It was cold, painfully cold. His skin felt shivery, each nerve ending awakened by the agonising chill. He moaned, his body arched. Terry writhed beneath him, driving his head back against the tiled floor with an audible thump. He groaned, a mix of pleasure and pain, his back arched, his hips pushing up towards Remus' chilled hand.
The ice-cream melted further, dripping from Remus' fingers along the heated flesh. They shuddered together, swallowing their moans. Terry's hand rose, wrapping around Remus' own. They locked their fingers together, Terry forcing the rhythm faster, harsher. His fingers pressed against Remus' cock, hot and rough.
Remus moaned, a shudder growing in his hips and flowing through his whole body. He pushed forward against Terry's touch, rocking his hips in time with the movement of their clasped hands.
Terry's hand stilled, fingers twitching clumsily, as he came. His grip tightened on their joined cocks and Remus whimpered, bowing his head forward, teeth gritted, as he came a moment later.
Terry gasped for breath, his hand falling to his side. Remus fell back, raising his own hand to his lips. The mixture there was exquisite, rich cookie-dough and creamy chocolate and the saltiness of come. He sucked each finger into his mouth, licking them clean until not a single spot more remained.
He opened his eyes to see Terry doing the same, a look of exhausted bliss upon his face.
"I thought you didn't like ice-cream, Terry," he said with a smirk.
Terry smiled around his finger, the tip of his tongue showing for a moment, but he gave no answer. There was still a splatter of pearly ice-cream across his hair and cheeks and Remus wanted nothing more than to clean him up.
Terry opened his eyes, frowning in curiosity.
"Did you like it?" he asked, wide-eyed innocence once more despite his lack of clothing.
Remus nodded wordless before leaning forward, licking his cool, sticky lips.