LONG: Steal Me (James/Sirius, NC-17) Title: Steal Me Author:snegurochka_lee Characters: James/Sirius Rating: only a light NC-17, I think Warnings: None Word Count: ~1,500 Summary: For Sirius, it's always the same two words that start it: "Nicked it." Notes: Written for the "kleptophilia" (arousal by stealing) theme at daily_deviant in March. Originally posted here.
"Where'd you get that?" "Nicked it," said James casually. He started playing with the Snitch, allowing it to fly as much as a foot away and seizing it again; his reflexes were excellent. -- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
It's always the same two words that start it.
"Nicked it," James says, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. He rolls the Snitch in his fingers, his thumb calming its tiny, fluttering wings. Despite the fight it puts up at first, the bloody thing always relaxes under his touch eventually, coming to a shuddering sigh in the palm of his hand after just a few well-timed strokes.
If a Snitch could bat its eyelashes, Sirius would swear it does exactly that whenever it's in James's possession.
"That's from a locked box in McGonagall's office," Sirius replies, pointing his index finger at the Snitch and watching the way James's fingers curl around it, caressing it like he's trying to get it off. "Can't just Accio that." He swings his gaze up James's body, his head tilted.
James only runs the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, that casual smile deepening as he glances down at the Snitch, lying on its back in his palm. "Course you can't."
Sirius drops his legs from where they hang over the foot of his bed and gets up to saunter towards James, considering. "Can't be a Sleeping Draught."
"For inanimate objects?" James snorts. "Not quite."
"That thing's not inanimate, for one," Sirius fires back, "and fuck you, for another."
James just smiles, leaning against his bedpost and twirling the Snitch in front of Sirius.
"Transfiguration, then," Sirius tries again, his hands resting low on his hips. "Get the whole box to turn into a used tissue, and you're set."
"Still got to get into the old bird's office to get the tissue, though, don't you?" James begins to work his fingers, waking the Snitch up again with a gentle massage.
"Tell me how you do it." Sirius pins James in his gaze, moving closer.
Head cocked to the side in challenge, James lifts his chin but says nothing.
"Tell me, you wanker." At this, Sirius closes his own hand over the Snitch, pressing the pad of his thumb between James's knuckles as the Snitch falls still again.
James wets his lips, leaning in close to Sirius's ear. The crisp of his unshaven jaw brushes Sirius's cheek. "What if I don't?" He pulls his hand away from Sirius's, cradling the Snitch against his shoulder.
That, there, right there. That's all it takes. Sirius glances at the door to make sure Remus and Peter haven't come in while he was distracted, then he casts a locking charm and presses the palm of his hand flat against James's chest. "Tell me," he repeats as James falls backwards onto the bed, laughing.
"No way," James breathes as Sirius crawls over top of him, stopping only to tug his shirt over his head and throw it to the floor. "Drives you mad that you can't figure it out."
"Drives me mad that you won't tell me," Sirius grumbles, hitching James's t-shirt up to his armpits as James spreads his arms above his head, groaning.
"Drives you – God – mad that I'm better at this than you are."
Sirius pauses, his lips millimetres from the taut skin of James's stomach. He glances up. "At what?" His mouth curls into a grin.
James's face is alive with mischief. "At this," he murmurs, holding the Snitch between his thumb and forefinger, "and at this." Closing his fist around it again, he reaches his other hand into Sirius's trousers, folding his fingers around Sirius's dick in a matching gesture.
"Fuck," Sirius chokes out, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. "Not as good as you think you are," he manages, rucking James's shirt up further and pressing bruises into his chest with gripping fingertips.
"Good enough for this," James insists, holding up his fist again, and Sirius leans down to kiss that smirk off his face. James strains up to meet him, his head not leaving the pillow but his neck arched up and his lips parted to get a better taste of Sirius's mouth. He slings one arm around Sirius's neck to draw him in closer, and Sirius can feel the Snitch fluttering through James's hand against Sirius's pulse point.
Lifting his mouth away with a slow moan, he moves down James's body and pushes James's trousers down his hips. He lifts James's cock out and licks it, his tongue flat and his breath coming fast. He waits until James grabs a fistful of his hair, trying to shove Sirius's head down, before he pulls back. "You gonna let that thing go?" he growls at James as he glances up his body. Ripping his own trousers open, Sirius reaches for his dick.
His flushed face and tousled dark hair stark against the white pillow, James only gives him that lazy smile again, except now with kiss-bruised lips. He clenches his fist even tighter around the Snitch. "You gonna try to make me?"
Narrowing his eyes, Sirius only shakes his head. "You have to ask?"
James grins again, already turning over and kicking one leg out of his trousers. "Go on, then," he breathes over his shoulder as he spreads his thighs. It isn't often he uses that tone of voice. It isn't often that even Sirius can get James Potter on his hands and knees, begging for it like this, but pilfering the Snitch always puts him in just the right sort of mood. Sirius presses in behind him with his own trousers sagging down his hips, James hissing as the cool metal of Sirius's belt buckle settles against his thigh.
Sirius always keeps his eyes trained on James's right fist even as his own fingers push inside James, wetting him and working him open with the whispered words of a spell. James's knuckles colour and then whiten, his free hand pressed flat against the headboard. "Let it go," Sirius whispers, withdrawing his hand to touch his thumb and middle finger to the base of his cock.
James's fist visibly pulses. "Told you," he murmurs through a mouthful of pillow, "to make me."
Someday he will, Sirius always tells himself as he works his cock inside. For now, he settles for watching the muscles of James's back tense and shift as Sirius shoves the rumpled t-shirt up further and thrusts in deep. For now, he curls over James's back and bites at his shoulder, gasping each time his balls brush against James's. For now, he contents himself with stealing a few precious minutes with his own bloody Snitch, clutching him tightly and swearing (to himself, at least) that he'll never let him go.
Lying on their backs together afterward, sweaty, panting and still only half-naked, James holds the Snitch up. The imprint of its wings etches his palm as he slowly starts rotating it again. "You wish I could nick you one of these days," he says casually. "That's why this gets you off."
One arm flung over his forehead, Sirius turns his head on the pillow, wishing he had a cigarette. "Nick me from where?" he asks lazily, not bothering to deny that last.
James turns his attention back to the ceiling, letting the Snitch fly further and further out of his grip before straining his arm out to capture it. "From Herbology," he says with a shrug, his shoulder brushing Sirius's. "From detention." He pauses, holding the Snitch still and drawing his hand down to rest on his chest, its tiny wings fluttering over his heart. "From, I don't know. Wherever you are."
His voice drops to a mumble at that, and Sirius studies his profile while James continues to blink at the ceiling. The silence stretches and Sirius imagines a million things he could say, like, Hard to steal what you already own, or, You nicked me years ago, you stupid poof. Instead, he slowly runs his tongue over the inside of his bottom lip and speaks quietly. "Steal me?"
"Yeah." That mad grin lights up James's features again, the one that says James Potter never bothers nicking something that isn't worth its weight in goblin gold, and that he never bothers holding onto whatever it is he's nicked unless it really is his prize possession.
Sirius lets James get distracted, his gaze moving down Sirius's bare chest, and then he chooses that moment to strike. After this many times, James really should have learned. Sirius reaches down, quicker than a Seeker, and grabs the Snitch from between James's relaxed fingers.
Too drowsy to protest, James only tucks one arm under his head to prop himself up, turns to Sirius and lifts a brow.
In response, Sirius pushes himself up off the bed, swinging his legs down to the floor and hauling his trousers up his hips in nearly the same motion. He leaves his open belt falling to each side as he turns back to the bed. James is still lying there, messy and dazed and watching Sirius's every move. Holding the Snitch up, Sirius leans down to nudge the tip of his nose over James's jaw, pausing at his ear.
"Steal me," he murmurs, watching James's eyes fall closed and his lips part in a silent gasp. Before James's fingers can snap around his wrist, though, Sirius has pulled back, laughing and closing his own hand around the Snitch. He strolls away, bending only to pick his shirt up off the floor.