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Remus was impatiently waiting for Sirius to get back from the quidditch game. He had showered with Sirius’s soap, brought himself off while trying to remember the way his skin smelt.
Afterwards he’d picked an overlarge thin white jumper that didn’t fit over his shoulders and that fell all the way over the tops of his thighs. It dwarfed him, in fact he knew it was too large on Sirius too, but it was his lover’s and it did smell like him. It was also of a silky soft high-quality fabric that made him think of Sirius’s skin. Remus walked around in the jumper with an overflowing cup of tea, bare feet treading softly through their flat.
He stopped in front of the bookcase when he heard the front door open. Pretended he was picking out a book as he sipped on his tea. He could hear the noise of heavy boots being kicked off, the rustle of a leather jacket as it was thrown over a kitchen chair. Then footsteps.
Sirius wrapped his arms around him from behind and held him close. He smelt even more of Sirius, Sirius’s hair and skin and the lime soap and faint traces of extortionately priced cologne and still fainter traces of a cigarette he might have smoked the previous night. Remus went almost slack, breathing deeply and soaking it up.
“Naughty boy taking my clothes,” Sirius mumbled into his skin, nose trailing up Remus’s arched neck. He was clean-shaven for once, and as much as Remus enjoyed getting stubble burn there was something alluring about how soft Sirius’s face was today. Even softer than the jumper.
Remus fumbled blindly in front of him until he found the bookshelf, putting down his teacup on it.
“No pants, either?” Sirius whispered. Remus was beginning to stand to attention, the jumper was being hiked up over his budding erection and exposing his overheating bits to more air. Remus arched his back, maybe to try to hide it or maybe to emphasize how he was reacting. He was getting up on his toes, Sirius’s hands steadying him with a secure hold on either side of his waist.
“Beautiful boy. Naughty little slut.” Sirius shut himself up by kissing Remus’s neck, caressing pecks that left moist spots behind that he breathed out on with his nose, heating and wetting and chilling. Taking his time. Remus had to plant his feet firmly on the ground again, knowing he was well on his way to losing his footing. There was no need to pretend he had his lover’s grace or to stretch himself out seductively to lure him in. That wasn’t him; he was bound to stumble and fall, arse over tit, and besides…
“I love you so much,” Sirius whispered into the nape of his neck. His hands slid down Remus’s waist, good warm pressure, stretching the fabric taut over Remus’s chest. The hands stopped comfortably on his hips. Remus’s cock twitched, like in polite and perhaps overeager greeting. It stood up properly by now, covered in thin fabric from Remus’s vantage point, Sirius’s hands strong and big and impressive on either side. There was a wet spot growing by the second, and Remus could feel Sirius’s tongue lap gently over the pulse point in his neck, looking over his shoulder, looking to taste.
“Someone looks sweet and innocent today.”
Remus eyed his own barely clothed, obscenely leaking erection doubtfully. He could feel it throbbing, shockingly needy pulses, none of which were quite managing to reach their climax. Like violent waves throwing themselves up on a pebbled Brighton beach, rushing forth, over and over. He knew he was going to come so hard today, knew the thirst within was unlikely to be quenched no matter how many times Sirius took him there today.
His gaze shifted to the big, strong hands of his lover, the fine-jointed but long and almost meaty fingers that felt so good on him, when they prodded or caressed or tickled or fucked inside of him. They were very strong, Sirius’s whole body was, and just like the jumper of his, his hands splayed out over Remus’s bony, skinny hips made Remus look small in comparison. He imagined those hands grabbing him hard, squeezing until the bones in his hips ground together, until they sank in and formed bruises in the soft flesh on his bum. Remus wanted them to take him, possess him, dominate him. Hold him like Sirius owned him.
His cock was spasming again, feeding on Remus’s guilty thoughts.
“Sweet and innocent even after all the times I’ve defiled you,” Sirius breathed into his ear. Remus shifted, his face heating up in a by now very familiar way. Sirius must be able to read that blush by now, must be able to know exactly what that meant. Remus wanted to hear more. Wanted to be humiliated, wanted Sirius’s words to drown him. Wanted…
“Yeah? Almost like a ripe but untried peach. We both know better than that though. Virgin, indeed.”
Sirius’s hands gripped him a little tighter and Remus’s breath hitched with immediate approval.
“You’ve been so bad. So dirty. I’ve barely had to ask, you’ve simply been eager to give it all up. To let me have you over and over. Speared on my tongue or my fingers. You’ve let me play around in there with my whole hand. Taken my whole fist. Watched yourself in the mirror while I ruined your hole, and then watched how your sweet rim clenched around my wrist. That’s how greedy it is to let anything in, how greedy you are to get fucked full. You’re so good around my cock, no matter how many times I push inside. You want it all the time.”
Sirius stroked down with one hand, an almost scorching move when he encountered Remus’s bare skin. He began pulling the hem of the jumper up, mouth by Remus’s ear again to keep talking, but Remus hastily placed a hand over Sirius’s other hand, pressing it down over his hip. The hip with the scar Remus was trying his best to not remember. Sirius’s teeth sank shallowly into his neck, other movement stilling. Remus whined, unable to communicate any more than that.
“You’re very beautiful,” Sirius told him quietly and in a voice that suggested he was prepared to argue over any protestations, “absolutely all of you.”
Remus hesitated, then nodded, just to get Sirius to continue with the other things. The other things he was much more eager to hear, the things that were raw and scandalous. The things that were true. There was a puff of air in his neck, one of annoyance, Remus thought, but then Sirius’s other hand continued to expose him, and Remus’s mind sank back into that thrillingly forbidden territory.
“Remember how many times you’ve been a bad boy and let me touch your dick?” Sirius whispered in his ear, ending the question by sucking carefully on his earlobe. The fabric was being pulled away from his cock, inch by inch of angry flesh coming into view. Remus sighed deeply, but it was shuddering and he needed a firm touch just as much as he wished for Sirius to continue to slowly torture him into erotically fuelled insanity. There was an unhelpful gush of clear pre-ejaculate that dribbled down, paving a slick path and running after the retreating fabric.
“That’s certainly not virginal, is it?” Sirius continued. “If you were a nice, pure young lad I’d be able to fit your little dick in my hand, don’t you think? It’d be modest. Soft and sweet and easy to cover up. Decent.”
Sirius lifted the fabric up to Remus’s stomach, leaving Remus’s healthy left hip and very large erection on show. There was a content sigh in Remus’s ear, and Remus struggled with his embarrassment even though the fear that Sirius secretly didn’t like what he saw was put to its usual temporary rest. Sirius’s hands squeezed, one into his belly and the other into the hidden scar tissue on the right.
“Fucking massive.”
Remus shook his head, it was a nervous tick almost. It made Sirius laugh in a very teasing way.
“No? You comparing yourself to a hippogriff or a thestral or something?”
Remus shivered and wanted to hide, a violent blush blooming on his cheeks and his dick just as keen to reach to the heavens as before.
“Dirty slut, comparing your massive length to animals,” Sirius whispered. “You’re really big. I can barely wrap my fingers all around your girth, you know.”
Remus was certain that wasn’t true, and yet the words had the unfortunate effect of making him release some more precum, slick pearls from the little slit. Sirius licked his neck again, big flat tongue like his canine alter ego.
“Let me show you,” Sirius continued, with his words blowing air over the stripe he had licked and sending another desperate dribble of liquid out of Remus.
He took away his hand from Remus’s hip and placed it ever so carefully around Remus’s shaft. He wasn’t exaggerating much, Remus found, but as soon as this was established his eyesight became patchy and blurry, all power left in his body going to keeping himself still, keeping himself upright. He could feel in graphic detail how Sirius caressed him from root to tip, grip loose and fingers just meeting, and then one finger dug into the tiny, sensitive slit that had been working on overdrive ever since Sirius came home.
Remus sobbed, there was nothing else for it, and his body trashed as he lost control, coming and coming and coming.
There was praise muttered in his ear, compliments that mingled perfectly with the words ‘whore’ and ‘slut’, and then he heard Sirius lick his fingers clean, wet slurping noises that Remus paired with images long before he managed to open his eyes. Sirius’s face was next to his, and from the corner of his eye he could see Sirius eating his come and making his whole palm and every finger spit-slick in the process.
“You do taste like a sweet little virgin,” Sirius told him, voice almost giddy. Remus, whose face and neck had begun to regain its normal skin colour, felt it heat back up again. He should have known that was a lost cause. They both still wanted more.
“You almost came all over your precious books,” Sirius continued, suddenly placing both hands back on Remus’s hips and moving him away from the bookshelf towards the sofa. Remus made a pained little noise in the back of his throat. Sirius walked him around the back of the sofa, taking his hands and placing them on the back.
“I know how much you like bending over for me,” Sirius told him sweetly, keeping his place behind him. He pushed forwards momentarily and Remus could feel how hard he was beneath his clothes. “How much you need it. I’m sure you can’t even remember how many times you’ve spread your legs for me, wiggled your bum and tried to tempt me with your dirty hole. Never a clean moment for it, is there? Gets filled with thick, nasty come so often there’s probably a permanent coating on the inside. No matter how much you try to wash and clean, you can always feel it, can’t you?”
Remus found himself giving a shamefaced nod to the floor, pale knuckles gripping on the back of the sofa.
“Thought so. Feels so filthy, doesn’t it? Warm, fresh spunk spilling into you, dribbling back out right here.”
Sirius’s hand caressed him, his arse cheeks and in between, a finger circling and Remus stepped wider to give better access.
“What a slag,” Sirius chuckled, sounding quite breathless and his fingers much too gentle for Remus’s liking. If only his hands would match the words he said, but they never did. Remus wasn’t sure if he should be grateful for that or not. His insides twisted.
“I’m assuming you want me to open you up, now? Work you for so long you can’t close, leave you wide and gaping. Make you look like you’re begging for it.”
That sounded about right. Remus got comfortable, folding his arms on the back of the sofa and burying his face in them. Sirius didn’t leave him, just palmed him, gentle squeezes to the fatty meat in his hands. He wondered guiltily if Sirius was going to get the lube and fist him, talk him through the destruction and finally humiliate him properly. Actually make him take as much as he could take, maybe more than he could take. Hurt him. Then he felt Sirius’s mouth on him, kissing his vulnerable little hole with lovingly soft lips. Wet, too. Remus moaned into his hands.
If it hadn’t been such a perverted act, Remus thought this might well have been the text-book definition of ‘making love’. It was saccharine but slippery wet, like being pleasured with honey. Remus’s rim was sensitive in the best of ways, in ways that made any touches on it feel almost uniquely good. He was massaged with Sirius’s cushiony lips and bathed with his hot tongue, then the same tongue fucked him in a way that was so sweet, felt so gentle and good, that it really ceased being a dirty word altogether.
Remus’s cock stopped its pendulous swinging between his legs, hardened at a speed that would have suggested it was looking for a fight, and it struggled under its weight to get to Remus’s stomach. Remus’s breaths were deep and ragged, and like usual this act pushed him close to not just orgasm but tears. If someone had opened the gates to paradise and invited him in right now, he would have had to politely decline. Probably non-verbally, as there wasn’t room for any other brain activity than to receive each new surge of pleasure.
There were fingers, next, moving in with the tongue. Remus moaned brokenly, pushing back and spilling a hefty amount of fresh precum. If Sirius hadn’t been otherwise occupied, Remus thought there was a big chance he would have dropped to the floor and lapped it up. This was supposed to be all about degrading Remus, though, although he wasn’t sure if Sirius was still on message. Then the tongue was removed completely and Sirius licked slowly over his balls and up his cleft. Fingers churned around in his hole, stretching and enlarging. The noises from behind there were becoming louder, not yet brutal but increasingly more gross. Remus’s prostate was getting properly groped as well, invasive fingers alternating between working it raw and twisting just inside of the rim. He was definitely being opened up, then. Remus whimpered.
“I’ve filled you with spit,” Sirius informed him, voice a bit hoarse. “But I could still taste it, just like I guessed. Taste how you’ve been flooded with spunk. Over and over like you can’t get enough.”
Sirius shuffled behind him, mostly on the floor by the sounds of it. Remus was occupied with trying to come, and trying not to come, and so he wasn’t very interested in what was happening. He wanted to draw it out, because it had been a lot and he was becoming sore and he probably should let his body rest once he’d come. But maybe, if he came right now, he could convince Sirius to continue, to do more…
Something scorching was suddenly around his dick, and Remus shouted helplessly while he came violently and much too quickly. It wasn’t actually burning, in fact it was just Sirius’s mouth, but Remus trembled and stilled and jolted again in aftershock and he wasn’t much aware of anything anymore.
Then Sirius’s come-filled mouth began making out with his hole again, his over-sensitised, well-used, slightly gaping hole. The slimy come-covered tongue teased inside him, making a mess both outside and in as Remus could feel wetness slide down the back of his balls. It was too much and he whined and moved his hips, which only served to help Sirius tongue more come into him. Then there was the noise and feel of being spat at, Remus’s hole clenching in alarm as it was targeted. Sirius stood up behind him, both hands kneading Remus’s cheeks and no doubt with a perfect view of Remus’s sloppy hole.
“Now you’re beginning to look like a real whore,” Sirius told him quietly, but not so quiet Remus didn’t catch every word. “Open and dripping like you should be. And still hard, what the fuck, Remus?”
There was some laughter that almost broke the haze Remus was in, but then Sirius continued talking, and even better, continued to knead his bum.
“Your dick is still hard as a rock. Must be fucking painful, but then you’re a bit of a painslut, too, aren’t you? Not just a slut for being used as a come bucket.”
“Hit me,” Remus whispered, words so quiet Sirius could easily ignore them if he wanted to.
Sirius’s hands paused, then his fingers spread over Remus’s arse cheeks. Remus’s breaths were quick and sharp, terrified and on the sharp edge of his sex-induced haze. His prick was, indeed, still relentlessly hard. Probably hadn’t softened at all, had probably remained erect even after Sirius’s lips had been all over it, coaxed it to release straight into his mouth.
Sirius slapped his left arse cheek. It was much too soft, no sting and not even a satisfyingly loud noise. Remus groaned. Sirius patted him gently, but then even that turned into a soft caress. Remus waited, wondering, fearing, hoping.
“Sorry,” Sirius said, finally, and in his normal voice. Not low and sexy or teasing and seductive. Just Sirius.
Remus tried out a shrug, which didn’t work since he was still bent over the sofa with his head in his arms. His heart was pounding too loudly for him to think clearly.
“You’re so good that I can’t imagine you ever deserving that,” Sirius said gently. It sounded false to Remus, irrelevant at best. It made him frown, this attempt to make it about something other than sex. His chest felt heavy.
“You’re so good. Taste delicious. Your skin feels so nice. So pretty, Remus.”
Remus felt an uncomfortable burn in his eyes. He wondered if the werewolf scar was still covered up by the shirt or if it was out in the open. If Sirius could see it. It was the ugliest, most despicable thing Remus had seen in his life.
“You need to be good to yourself, too.”
The statement was spoken so quietly Remus wasn’t certain it was meant for his ears at all, but he heard it and it made him tense up, every muscle coiling with anger, wetness bursting noiselessly from his eyes and he dug his face more firmly into his arms because that was not for his lover to see. He felt Sirius’s hands slow down, knew Sirius sensed the change in his mood.
“Want me to leave?” Sirius breathed out, his voice still all Sirius but none of Remus’s sex-hungry lover.
“Fuck me raw,” Remus muttered into his hands. He kept his tone mild, tried to keep the derision and especially the self-hatred out. Clearly it wasn’t safe to show Sirius that side of himself. “Keep going.”
Sirius moved his hands again, still too gentle, and Remus wondered for a heart-breaking second if this was it. If this was when Sirius decided he was actually too fragile to get fucked. Too lost.
“You’re all open now,” Sirius mumbled. Remus could feel a finger circling around his rim again, probably a thumb. He sighed in relief and arched his back, squeezed all the muscles there, from his core all the way to his hole. It closed up nicely, then relaxed.
“Perfect,” Sirius said gently, thumbing round and round. Then there was another thumb, one on each side, and Remus blushed furiously as he was held open. Sirius must have bent down because next there was a small amount of hot air blown directly over Remus’s opening, turning cold as soon as Sirius stopped, and Remus whimpered and squirmed. Then he was kissed intimately and for a long, long time.
When Sirius finally backed out Remus was in a calm and erotic daze again, but he did hear Sirius’s zipper open and he heard Sirius spit in his hand. He tried to wiggle his bum, but stopped pretty fast as he remembered he must look ridiculous. His body was no good for enticement. Skinny and bony and clumsy and scarred and with an oversized cock. Sirius took him back anyway, hand around his waist and the other fumbling at Remus’s entrance. Remus waited, filling with anticipation, wondering how hard he was going to get it.
Sirius sank in gradually. It became clear that Remus was so full of the things Sirius had put there that Remus was completely slick without actual lube. It felt amazing, and Remus drowned out the part of him that had wanted it to feel bad, the part that had requested he be spanked and fucked raw in the first place. The bit inside him that hurt.
He felt full and hot, Sirius superfluously stopping to let him adjust when he was all the way in. He was ready, had been ready for a long time.
Sirius took his arms and Remus let himself be pulled up, stumbling a little because he had gotten used to holding his weight on his arms. Sirius embraced him from behind, keeping his arms locked to his sides. Remus had to get up on his toes because Sirius was just a little bit taller than him and Remus needed to get fucked, not to just stand there with his lover’s cock comfortably buried in his arse. Sirius hugged him tighter, moving one arm to get to Remus’s erection, but got the point and began to move, began to thrust. He upped the pace until it was fast and hard, exactly the way Remus’s dark side had wanted, but wet and smooth and pain-free the way Sirius apparently needed it to be. Remus was straining to keep on his toes, the muscles in his legs were screaming out for relief, and he was slammed into over and over in the best way possible. There was some friction but mostly smooth glide, Sirius burying himself and teasing him by almost pulling out, but never actually doing it, always fucking back in, loud slapping noises as Sirius’s groin collided with Remus’s soft behind. Remus’s cock was held protectively in Sirius’s hand, kept flush against his body instead of flapping around from the ruthless thrusts Remus’s body was subjected to. They were panting in sync, equally hard up for air by the sounds of it, and Remus knew it right before it happened, knew that they would both come at the same time like two beasts in sexual symbiosis.
Remus came hard, planting his feet on the ground and his knees on the verge of giving in, arsehole clenching around Sirius. Sirius was gnawing his shoulder while he released, hand spasming irregularly over Remus’s cock while it spat out white ropes over the back of the sofa. Remus closed his eyes and felt another couple of tears burst free and run down his face. He kept his eyes closed and hoped Sirius wouldn’t notice. Sirius was holding him as if he was trying to shield him from the world, and with his lips fumbling along his shoulder and neck and then face. Licking up the traitorous tears.
“I can’t hit you, I’m sorry, Remus.”
“I know,” Remus said, although he found he didn’t really know what to make of that. Didn’t really understand. He could feel the come running down the insides of his thighs and he wanted to feel used and cast aside.
“So precious,” Sirius mumbled into his chin. Remus felt uncomfortably tight. “Will you kiss me even though I’ve…”
Remus turned enough to be able to see Sirius’s face. His lips were swollen and there were traces of what he had been doing with his mouth all around. Remus was reminded of the only time Sirius had ever had to request aftercare of him.
“’Course,” Remus said guiltily and kissed him. He kept his eyes open, and even though he wasn’t sure why he did, Sirius was doing the same. He looked deeply into Sirius’s eyes while they kissed, analysed what his senses were given. Anxiety in the smell of his sweat. Strength in the arm around his waist. Care in the hand supporting the back of his head. Compassion in the thumb rubbing away the tension in his jaw. Worry in the stunning, exquisite grey eyes boring into his. Come and spit and musk on his tongue. Remus got on his toes, dug deeper into his mouth, needing to find…
He stumbled and fell, his clumsy feet exhausted, and Sirius laughed and caught him and hugged him, closer, closer, getting back in his face and rubbing their noses together. Remus looked again and behind the laughter there he was.
The love of his life.