gala_apples (gala_apples) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2008-05-01 02:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | #lmom 2008, author: gala_apples, kink: voyeurism, kink: wanking (solo or mutual), remus alone |
Title: Hang Up the Goddamn Towels, or... how Remus Lupin became domestic without marrying.
Chapter: 1
By: Gala
Rated: R
Pairing: Remus/hand, mentions of Remus/Tonks, unrequited Remus/Marauders, Seamus/???
Kink: masturbation, audio voyeurism
Word count: 1340
Notes: AU around DH. he doesn't get married to Tonks, so Teddy obviously isn't around. also, this will have no plot. i wasn't planning on writing this, i was going to do a hp/xmen crossover which actually did have a vague plot dreamed up. up until about 12.05, and then i started writing and this came out.
Notes part 2: i have no idea if people in the UK have poprocks. i searched for lists of candy that are different between canada and the UK, and poprocks wasn't listed, but it's not like i was thorough in my research.
It was a contest of sorts. Remus hated this sort of thing. After all, hadn't he had enough when Sirius was living with him twenty years ago? Between the 'towels go on the towel rack not in a ball on the floor, they get musty, you idiot' argument and the 'whomever hates the stench of rotting garbage most and caves first can take it out' argument, Remus has had his full share of shitty flatmate drama.
And it wasn't like he didn't have the power this time. Last time it was Sirius' house, and Remus was staying in it. This time it was his two bedroom apartment, lease in his name only. He could kick the boy out whenever he wanted to. So the question was, if he hated it so much, why did he rent out the second room? The answer was obvious. He didn't really hate any of it. In truth, having a roommate was nice. Remus had always lived with someone. When he was younger, obviously his parents were around all the time. Slightly older and he was with his best mates. Older still, and with Sirius, and on top of the world.
Of course, that's where it had all fallen apart. But no matter how weary and old his soul felt, a constant in his life was having roommates. Others just as much down on their luck, living six people to an apartment to save on rent. Occasionally and thankfully, a supporter of the cause letting one of the werewolves stay with them for an extended period. Then at 33, living at Hogwarts for a second time. No longer his friends at his side, only other professors. Grimmauld Place, then hideouts during the war, then a brief time with Tonks.
Remus had lasted only a week alone after the war before placing an advertisement for a flatmate. A week of hideous, stifling quiet. It just seemed so unnatural, like someone had placed a deafening spell around his head and he couldn't rip it away. He didn't much care who moved in with him, as long as someone did. His books were relocated to the living room, changing his library back to a second bedroom. It made the living room seem fuller anyway, more human. Less sterile. Obsessive cleanliness was something else that Remus Lupin had never been able to get used to.
Luckily, it wasn't something he had to worry about with Seamus Finnegan. The boy wasn't even half his age, 18 as compared to 38. He had many qualities of youth, the least of which was the apparent inability to return anything to it's proper place. In nearly all cases Remus didn't care. It took much more interest then he had in cooking to actually care if the few plates went in the same cupboard every washing. He'd already dealt with the musty towels thing with Sirius, repeating it with the blond almost made him feel young again. The one issue he had was with his books. They were categorised by genre and theme, and always had been. If someone asked to borrow a book, he could close his eyes and imagine where on the shelf the tome would be and give directions to it. He had no qualms about Seamus reading his books. Half the old novels didn't have covers, picked up in used book shops. It wouldn't hurt them to be dog-eared by yet another reader. It was when they weren't placed in the right order that his hackles raised.
The man had other habits that would grate on the nerves of most. Seamus seemed nearly addicted to candy, visiting Honeydukes on his way home every day. He tended to have many muggle items too, and continuously bothered Remus to try the candy of the day. It didn't matter how many times Seamus told him Pop Rocks were both healthy and entertaining, he was not going to put candy that exploded in his mouth.
Seamus was more warm-blooded then most. He cast cooling charms on all the objects around him, but tended to forget to end the spell before leaving the room. Remus couldn't count the amount of times he had stepped on a spot of ice-like cold near Seamus' favourite armchair.
Thankfully, the most irritating habit of roommates Remus had been conditioned into enjoying. Seamus was loud, in everything he did. He didn't walk, he stomped. He didn't speak, he shouted. At irritating articles in the newspaper he didn't lecture, he orated. Sirius and James had acted the same way. Remus was used to loud. However, there were some times that it just didn't seem appropriate. Which brought him back to contests, and how he hated this kind of thing.
He knew his flatmate was getting off. His flatmate was in no way quiet about getting off. The problem being, Remus hadn't had much occasion to get off since Tonks had left him. She'd gotten sick of needing to transform to fulfill his needs, and she'd left. So it was a contest of who got to have the most orgasms, and Seamus was by far winning. Just like James and Sirius and Peter had fucked around in their higher years at Hogwarts, and Remus hadn't. Granted, he'd never seen who kept Seamus up at night. The blond wasn't one to call out names, and their flat had no anti-apparition charms. It was still just as irritating as his best friends hooking up, and knowing about Evans and McKinnon and Meadows and the rest.
He wasn't about to admit that it was irritating for the same reason it had been twenty years ago; he wanted to be the cause of the moans. The problem being, Remus had a bad habit of being attracted to friends, and this Irishman was by now a friend. It didn't matter to his head, to his heart, to his cock, that Seamus was a boy compared to him. The problem being, Tonks might have been okay with loving someone older, dangerous, and poor, but it was impossible to find that twice in a lifetime.
Every night at 11:15, Seamus starts screaming. It's almost ridiculous, how Remus can set his watch by Seamus' groans. He sits on his old floral couch, and tries not to listen. He tries to focus on his book, but every time he reads a sentence Seamus interrupts. The wall separating the second bedroom and the living room must be paper thin, Remus decides. Of course, there are entire books of home renovation spells, from drywall to changing the colour of carpet to creating murals from pensieve images. It would be a day's work to find a book, and create a thicker soundproof wall. It would be the work of a minute to temporarily deafen himself, or silencio the room.
But Remus finds himself doing none of these things. Instead he sits on his floral couch, and inevitably listens. He has no idea who Seamus is with, or what she's doing to his body. But by God, does he love it. It starts off with a few breathy pants- and really, how thin must the walls be that he can hear someone breathing?- and devolves into a louder and louder spiral of passion. Remus devolves with him, at the panting he only rubs himself outside of the trousers. As Seamus gets more vocal, his hand dips into his pants. His fingers curl around himself nearly automatically as Seamus starts groaning, speeding up as the groans become more drawn out. When Seamus screams, the same scream Every Fucking Night, Remus comes. It's easiest to complete a cleaning spell when all the evidence is inside his trousers.
Around the same time that Seamus is whispering love and nonsense to whoever she is, Remus is reshelving his book, bookmark not moved a page since taking it out at 11. When she's apperating away, he's putting his coffee cup near the sink and retiring to his bedroom. His light turns off at the same time as Seamus'. He doesn't say "goodnight."