Chapter Text
It was the strange noises coming from Remus’ bedroom that drew Sirius in.
He had been coming up to let his oldest friend know that dinner would be ready soon, and then go and find Harry and do the same as no one had seen either of them for hours at this point.
But then again, both had been in a bad mood since they had arrived.
Harry had been moody and angry— rightfully so though—since he got here earlier after finding out about the Order and how he was being expelled as he waited for his hearing. He seemed to only be in an okay mood when he was with Moony, and when he had seen Sirius, which made Sirius practically light up.
It had been a bad day for Harry, that much was obvious, though Sirius was so happy that he was here now!
And Moony had been snappy and irritable to everyone but Sirius since he had gotten back from yet another mission to the werewolf packs, and Sirius couldn't fault him on that either as it seemed pointless and cruel to keep sending Moony back there time and time again when he clearly despised it, even if Sirius felt absolutely useless trapped here without being able to help either of them.
But with Sirius, he was doting and caring, and went out of his way to make sure Sirius was as comfortable as could be.
He approached the door to the bedroom Sirius had designated as Remus’ and no one else's— said specifically to Molly Weasley as she had continually been challenging his authority in his own home.
As he got closer, Sirius was better able to hear the sounds that had drawn his interest.
He knew the voice— Moony obviously— but he was grunting and groaning like he was in pain and it took a few more steps before Sirius heard a moan and realized what Moony was doing.
Usually Remus was aces at putting up privacy wards when wanking, so Sirius couldn't help the grin that crept across his face because it was just too funny, the idea of Remus being too worked up to remember to place privacy wards.
It also caused Sirius to harden up a bit as he listened, rubbing his growing erection through the fabric of his trousers imagining Remus stroking himself.
Sirius had had it bad for Remus for years now. Since Hogwarts really. It had been how he had discovered that Remus was a werewolf after all.
He had been paying very close attention to the boy in an effort to impress him— he hadn't known it was a crush yet until 3rd year but still— but it had been there as early as the Express.
Sure, Remus was straight and all, and Sirius had to watch as his cousin Nymphadora flirt with him endlessly, and even then he never had sex with anyone; celibate because of his condition.
“By choice” he claimed, but Sirius knew it was more out of fear of being discovered or hurting someone than some monk-like ascetic ethos, as Sirius had discovered over the years that Moony was a very physical being, and dealt with his urges often.
And his attention to privacy had been a source of frustration for Sirius for years, as he had practically frothed at the mouth at any opportunity to drool over his eldest friend and add anything he could to his fantasy collection to replay whenever he was horny.
Unfortunately, Remus was excellent at keeping himself hidden and hard to read in all areas of his life, and had been why Sirius, in a fit of jealousy, believed Peter's whispering that Remus was the traitor.
Mostly because Peter kept telling him that Remus likely had a girlfriend among the pack, and Sirius’ jealousy had burned so hot and brightly it had scorched all Sirius had held dear, until Sirius was left scrambling to grasp the embers for warmth.
He cast that train of thought aside because hearing Moony sound so aggressive while touching himself?
Yeah, that would totally be added to Sirius’ collection of wank material alongside the few times Sirius had seen Remus’ arse getting out of the shower in school before he could wrap his towel tightly. Or another time when he had seen him soft as he was changing and Sirius had literally drooled. Or the way Sirius had seen Remus’ prick pressing against the inside of his thigh when Sirius had “accidentally” shrunk his trousers while he had been wearing them, or the time he had found— and stole— a pair of Remus’ used boxers that had a stain in them that Sirius knew had been his semen, which Sirius had used nearly everyday to get himself off until it didn’t smell like Remus any longer.
He took another step closer to the door, intent on barging in, without knocking because he needed to see Moony like this, and also because it would have been hilarious to see Moony freak out about it.
He'd probably yell at Sirius and throw something at him, but that made it all the funnier and worth the trouble if he got to add something new to his fantasies.
Maybe a solid two seconds of him wanking? He'd finally get to see Remus’ prick in all its glory, and that was worth a few well placed hexes and probably a friendly beating.
Just as he grabbed the doorknob and turned it the sounds changed, and Sirius heard a second voice added to the sound of panting and grunting.
“Professor Lupin!”
Sirius’ heart dropped to his stomach because he recognized that voice far too clearly.
“Such a good boy, Harry, keep going.” He heard Remus tell him, his voice deep and growly in a way that Sirius had only ever associated with him getting angry at Sirius because of a stupid prank or joke he had pulled, never anything else, but this was different.
“Ah! Professor Lupin!” Harry let out a quiet keening moan, and Sirius knew that whatever was going on in this room was not appropriate.
Sirius’ hand trembled on the doorknob, clutching the copper in his palm as his other hand was squeezed so tightly he was worried his nails would draw blood.
“Does that feel good, Harry?” Remus asked, his voice growly still but filled with concern.
Sirius almost didn't catch Harry's response.
“Yes.”
“I couldn't hear you, Harry.” Remus said smugly, even though he had obviously heard Harry, “Don't worry, darling, no one can hear you, I put the wards up.”
Oh gods, no, Remus you did not. Sirius thought to himself. You most certainly did not put up the ward.
“Yes!” Harry shouted louder, his voice high pitched and squealing.
Sirius’ nails dug in tighter to the calloused flesh of his palm as he realized he was not supposed to be hearing this, and that sent a dark thrill through his blood which went straight to his cock, twitching in his trousers obscenely.
He wasn't supposed to be hearing this, and yet he was, and Sirius loved it.
He pressed against the door, flush against the dark hardwood, using a tiny trick he had learned over the years as Padfoot that he never told anyone about except Remus and shifted only his ears into Padfoot’s, and suddenly he could hear so many sounds he hadn't been able to before.
Harry was panting, small sharp intakes of air before letting them out in small whines and moans, muffled by what Sirius had to assume was either a hand or fabric.
He could hear Remus’ soft growls now, his pants and tiny snarls that Sirius had never known he needed to have heard before.
Oh gods almighty, Sirius pressed closer to the door, rubbing himself through his trousers as he heard something wet and squelching, and his mind went aflame with possibilities.
What was Moony doing to Harry? And was it as beautiful as Sirius had already begun imagining?
“Two fingers already? Such a good boy for me, Harry.” Remus said, as if in answer to Sirius’ wondering.
Sirius’ felt breathless as he was suddenly able to imagine it so clearly.
“Professor!” Harry's voice sounded close to Remus’.
Maybe Harry was in Moony's lap as Moony worked his fingers inside.
Fuck.
Moony was fingering Harry.
Remus Lupin, Sirius' best friend, was fingering Harry Potter.
Sirius’ godson.
Sirius couldn't stop his prick from throbbing at the realization that his godson and his best friend— practically his brother— were having sex.
Harry probably felt like heaven, Sirius thought.
He was probably tight, wet, and hot, and it would probably feel incredible around his fingers.
Squeezing his fingers, warming them with his own heat, as he begged for more, as Sirius thrust his long, narrow fingers in deep, crooking them just so…
And Remus was gifted with charms, so likely his fingers— his thick, long, broad fingers that were holding Harry's hole open— were slick and dripping with spelled lubrication. Or maybe his own saliva!
Sirius left out a shuddering breath as he imagined it.
Remus’ tongue wrapping around his fingers as he slicked them up, drenching them in saliva.
Or maybe! He had spit on them, rough and aggressively, unable to restrain himself and wanting inside Harry as quickly as possible!
Or he had carefully, likely making Harry watch in anticipation as he spelled lube, adjusted it to his desired consistency and temperature, dragging it out just to torment Harry, as he always did whenever Sirius asked him to conjure him things.
Making him wait and teasing him with the anticipation, with his smug little smirk that he'd give Sirius whenever Sirius asked for anything.
Did he tease Harry's opening until he begged for Remus to press those gorgeous fingers in? Did Remus shove them in hard and rough, just to hear Harry cry out?
Sirius hated that he hadn't heard the beginning of this, because now he was going to obsess over which of those he preferred.
Either way, Moony was the kind of guy to make sure he was doing it right, and his fingers were probably soaked in whatever he preferred as he drove them into Harry, stroking him on the inside and scissoring them and stretching the boy to get him ready.
Sirius swore quietly to himself and gently pressed his head into the wood of the door.
He listened to Harry's whimpers and was able to determine Remus’ pace from the way his breath shuddered and his whimpers changed on each stroke inside.
Remus was slow, methodical, just as Sirius would have assumed, and Sirius wished he could feel what Harry was feeling right now because he could only imagine how good Remus’ fingers inside of him felt.
Sirius would kill just to experience that.
Harry let out a sharper cry as he heard Remus chuckle, and Sirius knew he had just found Harry's prostate.
The boy was probably writhing on Remus' lap, if that was where he was, and Sirius wanted to imagine so.
Sirius palmed his erection through his trousers and sighed quietly as he imagined the sight through the dark door.
He wanted to see.
He needed to see them.
His dark hair fell in front of his face as he panted, struggling to not make any noise lest he alert them to him listening and ruin this wonderful wonderful moment.
“You're doing so good, Harry. So good for me.”
“I missed you, Professor.” Harry spoke through a moan, and Sirius wanted to kiss his neck as he listened to Harry tell Sirius he missed him like that.
“And me, you, Harry.” Remus said adoringly, and Sirius wished he had had that adoration focused on him, because he was sure if he was Harry right now, his heart would explode from joy.
He heard what he was sure was the sound of Remus kissing Harry, and Sirius felt the oddest form of jealousy he had ever experienced.
He wanted both of them.
He wanted to be both of them.
He had never thought about Harry that way before now, as anything other than his godson, but hearing him with Remus opened up an entirely new view of his godson, and Sirius found— against what he knew was proper and good— that he was very much open to the idea of this newer, more arousing view of Harry.
Oh gods, James would likely hate him, but Harry was so handsome now that he let himself think about it.
That righteous anger, the darkness, the pain… Sirius would die if he could watch it fall away into rapture like it likely was doing currently under Remus’ skilled fingers.
Each curse, each look of betrayal, each foot of distance in his eyes being transubstantiated into arousal and pleasure under Sirius’— no Remus’— but maybe Sirius’ as well?— fingers.
He wondered what he looked like without his clothes now, had he grown hair on his chest yet?
Were his nipples the rosy shade Sirius was now imagining they were?
How big was his cock?
Would it fit in Sirius’ hand like it was meant to be there?
His hand was still on the doorknob and it was nearly shaking as he processed the new reality he unwittingly, but very much not unwillingly, found himself in.
The thought of Harry sitting on his lap while Sirius drove his fingers deep into him, eliciting those gorgeous noises was suddenly a torture like no other because he didn’t know what to do with it.
Harry had, up until ten minutes ago, been pure, virginal, and chaste in Sirius’ mind, but now that image of him was shattered by what he was hearing.
He heard Harry yelp and whine loudly, likely jumping from another stroke of his prostate by Remus’ fingers— a forcible stroke he guessed by Harry’s sudden noise— and Sirius couldn't stop the whine he let out in reply before he swallowed it roughly to stay quiet.
And Remus.
Sirius had had it bad for the werewolf for decades now, and if he were in Harry's position right now?
With Remus’ fingers stroking him so deep and with a diligence that Sirius could only associate with Remus?
Sirius would fight tooth and nail to make that man never leave his sight because he would be damned if he lost him.
Remus’ fingers were rough and calloused, and gods that would be a delight to have prying him open and stretching him in preparation for his cock.
Sirius moaned as he rutted against the door and had to bite his lip when he heard them stop, terrified at the idea of them stopping.
“Did you hear that?” Remus asked, and Sirius could imagine the furrow of his brow as he grew suspicious.
“Huh?” Harry sounded out of it, “I didn't hear anything.”
There was a moment of silence where Sirius had reached up and bite into the flesh of his hand to stop himself from making a sound, unable to stop himself from grinding against the door.
“I guess it was just this house.” Remus added, sounding calmer.
“Or maybe it was Sirius coming to check on you?” Harry offered, but he sounded playful, his voice breathy and shallow but there was a distinct hint of teasing.
Remus laughed, and Sirius drank it down into his heart like he hadn't seen a drop of water in days, “Padfoot would murder me if he found out what I’m doing, Harry, so let's hope that's not the case.”
But Harry let out a groan and Remus chuckled, “Now that is what I want to be hearing, sweetheart.”
Sirius wanted to walk in and tell Remus that he would never!
Remus and Harry were more important to him than every other person in this house, than the entire Order combined.
He wanted to go in and beg them to let him watch because he was already addicted.
Hooked and craving for the high of what he was discovering about them— about himself— and he never wanted to come back down to the world below them.
Literally.
The world two floors below him where the Order was gathered and talking, and Sirius was pressed outside Remus’ door, grinding against the wood as Remus Lupin fucked Harry with his fingers within hours of them being together in the same house.
He wouldn't be able to see them together, in the same room, without imagining this and having to flee to the safety of the nearest hidden alcove to wank one out, he could already tell.
The illusion that Remus had been celibate was shattered.
The image of Harry, untouched and innocent in the ways of the flesh was ruined.
And Sirius felt like a dirty heretic because he loved them all the more for it.
His love had transcended the need for temperance and chasteness, and apotheosized into a love so pure and carnal that Sirius wanted to sink his teeth into them both until their blood was his water, their breath was his air, their flesh was his flesh.
The idea that Remus was straight, that Sirius had had no chance, was thoroughly demolished by what he had caught, and if Remus hadn't accidentally failed in putting up the wards, then Sirius would never have even known about it.
He thanked the gods for this.
And Harry, his beautiful, talented, righteous, incredible godson wasn't straight either, and he had gotten something Sirius had craved for years, and Sirius couldn't even feel angry, instead his pride and desire had fused into some unholy beast that wanted to shower them both in his support and want.
Harry had shown Sirius that what he had assumed was a rigid truth about Remus had only ever been an assumption, one that Sirius realized he had never actually confirmed, just assumed.
Remus wasn't straight. That much was obvious.
He might be bisexual, Sirius figured…
Now that he was thinking about it though, Remus never really seemed comfortable with Nymphadora's flirting, and always seemed overly polite and trying to disengage the conversations, try to change the topic, or get others to talk to shift the focus.
“Professor! Ah! Remus!” Harry whined, and Sirius could hear the distinct sound of something wet and slick that sounded different than the sound of Remus’ fingers moving in and out of Harry's arse.
“Professor! Oh God!”
“You like that, huh, Harry? You like me touching you while my fingers are inside of you?” Remus asked, practically purring, and Sirius couldn't help himself.
He slipped his free hand into his trousers roughly, and pulled himself out as he began stroking himself in rhythm to Remus’ hand.
He tries to keep his pants and quiet moans quiet, to fall into the delusion that he was in there with them.
He timed his soft sounds with Harry's, hiding himself in the space between moments with them.
“Oh please! Professor!” Harry cried out, pleading and whimpering, and his voice kept moving and Sirius knew he was writhing now as Remus worked him inside and out.
“Such a good boy for me, Harry. So beautiful. I don't know what I'd do without you.” His voice was breathier and deeper, and it sounded divine to Sirius.
What he would give to have Remus in his ear, whispering how much of a ‘good boy’ Sirius was for him.
“Remus! Professor! Oh god oh god oh god!”
Sirius was quickly approaching his limit as he listened to Harry approach his.
“Yes, Harry, come for me.” Remus told him, his voice a dark growl, and Harry cried out loudly.
“Remus!”
Sirius couldn't help the whimpered “Remus!” That slipped out of his own mouth right after, as his release painted the dark wood he was pressed against.
Sirius panted as he caught his breath.
“There we go, Harry, my sweet boy. Do you feel better?” Remus asked him, and Sirius could hear the sound of something wet sucking, and Sirius assumed it was Remus’ lips, perhaps on Harry's neck.
Harry had a neck perfect for laying kisses onto, and Sirius wondered how wonderful it'd look with love bites tattooing down that expanse of skin.
There was silence for a bit as Harry caught his breath, and then he swallowed. Loud enough for Sirius to hear.
“What's wrong, Harry? What's the matter?” Remus’ voice was smaller, a bit scared, and Sirius didn't know what was happening.
“I missed you, Remus. So much…” Harry said, and he sounded scared.
“Oh, Harry.” He heard the sound of the bed shifting and a soft squeak from Harry, “Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry.”
“I thought…” Harry began, and his voice wavered and trembled and was faint enough that Sirius would not have heard it at all had he not shifted his ears into Padfoot’s to listen in. “I thought you didn't want me anymore…”
“Oh, Harry.” It was soft, heartbroken, and Sirius wanted to swoop in and pull them both into his arms and save them from their pains, “I would never not want you. You're perfect, Harry. I'm so sorry. Come here.” He heard more shifting and the soft sound of Harry crying as quietly as possible.
“But…you left so fast…and you didn't answer my letters…”
“Oh gods, my little lion, I'm so sorry.”
Sirius placed his hand on the door, willing it so that they could feel him there, just outside, but there with them.
“I know you couldn't stay…Even if I wanted you to…” Harry said softly, and Sirius focused his hearing to listen even more, “But…I missed you so much last year. I…”
“I'm so sorry, Harry. I wanted to stay, truly I did. But…”
“I know…The Board of Governors would have fired you, but…why didn’t you write? I thought maybe you regretted it. Regretted me.”
“No!” Remus shouted, and there was a quick shuffle, “No no no no no. Shh. Shhhh. That wasn't it at all, Harry. I swear! I would never regret you. No matter what.” Remus sighed, “I wanted to write you. I truly did. I wanted to go to your Tasks. To cheer you on, help you like Padfoot was able to…It killed me that I couldn't. I treasured every one of your letters, I still do. And I saved every Daily Prophet clipping of you I could get. But the Order had me…” He sighed again, and Sirius could hear frustration in his voice.
“The Order had you what?” Harry sounded curious but still upset, still hiccuping through soft sobs, and Sirius knew why, he understood Harry enough to know it.
He was upset because the Order had kept Remus from Harry, and kept Harry in the dark this summer.
Harry really wasn't being given a good impression of the Order, and honestly that was because there wasn't one.
Sirius believed in the goals of the Order, but they were not a cohesive or well-built group. Everyone pretty much hated each other and fought more often than they agreed on anything.
And in a group as small as they were, the amount of factions already formed was not sustainable.
The only thing keeping the Order together was Dumbledore, and even he was struggling to do that.
As well as struggling to be a good leader.
Sirius was still upset about him letting Snivellus get Remus fired, and forcing Remus away from Harry and Sirius last year.
It almost felt targeted, though Sirius didn't want to believe that.
Even if he couldn't help but keep thinking it.
He focused back on them.
“I have had to go on undercover missions among the more…dangerous groups of werewolves in Britain. The ‘packs’, if you will.”
Remus was speaking in that forced calm and measured voice he used when trying not to let his real thoughts on a subject out.
“Dangerous?” Harry was still recovering his breath from only a few minutes earlier, and Sirius hated that after something good, reality had to press down onto them again and steal that blissful peace they had been in and replace it with the misery of their circumstances.
Remus shifted. Sirius could tell it was him because he heard him stand and sigh, about a foot closer to the door, “It's necessary for the Order. I have been spending months at a time amongst the packs, underground…almost literally most of the time.”
His voice was more distant now, and he sighed once more, “I wanted to reply to your letters, but I couldn't. I had to either gather information on the packs’ movements and dealings with the Death Eaters, or try and convince them to not side with Voldemort, that Dumbledore will make things better for them if they side with the Order.”
Sirius could hear that even Remus didn’t believe what he was selling.
“Will Dumbledore actually help?” Harry asked, likely picking up on it as well.
“I don't know…”
Sirius was surprised that Remus was being so forthright with Harry, and not just blindly believing in Albus’ plans.
“I don't want— I don't like— ugh.” Harry sounded upset, and Sirius could hear him stand up, his bare feet slapping onto the hardwood floor. “Do you have to go? Can't they get anyone else to go?”
“I'm the only werewolf in the Order, Harry. I…” He swallowed, and Sirius was a bit nervous because he could hear it pretty clearly, meaning Remus was much closer to the door, “I have to.”
“But why?” Harry asked, “Why does it have to be a werewolf? Wouldn't it be more sincere if they sent a wizard to talk with them? Show them they mean it?”
Sirius hadn't thought of it that way, but Harry was right.
“And what if they find out you work for the Order? Will they hurt you?”
“They already do hurt—” Remus stopped himself and Sirius felt sick. Was Remus saying the packs hurt him?
“What?” Harry sounded upset, “Remus. Do they hurt you?”
Exhaling sharply, Remus moved closer to Harry, his feet making just enough noise for Sirius to mentally track him, “It's fine, Harry. It's for the war effort, and besides…I always heal.”
Sirius was surprised to hear something loud fall, or perhaps it was thrown. “No!”
“Harry.” Remus chastised softly.
“No, Remus. It's not right!”
“It's for the war effort, Harry. I'm the only one capable of getting their trust so—”
Sirius knew this argument was going to escalate, so he quickly stuffed himself back into his pants and lifted his hand.
And in a quick moment before he could decide against it, Sirius began turning the knob and rapped his knuckles across the hardwood, “Hey Moony! You in there?” He asked, forcing his voice into a cheerful tone, "I'm coming in!”
He turned the knob slowly as he heard them scramble, and Sirius let his ears return to his human form and gave them just enough time to make themselves presentable.
“Padfoot! Wait!”
“No can do, Moony!” Sirius forced a grin on his face as he walked in to see them scrambling to look normal.
“Oh, Harry! You're here too. That's great! I was gonna go find you next! I came to tell you dinner's almost ready!”
Harry was sweaty, his face still red and blotchy from his orgasm, and when he moved, he walked just oddly enough for Sirius to know he was still recovering from Remus’ fingers, his face anxiety ridden and likely his heart was racing.
Remus looked like he had just seen death, face pale and his body stiff as stone.
Sirius took a step closer and wrapped his arms around both of their shoulders, “I didn’t think you two would be talking so soon! But I guess you just wanted to catch up, huh?”
He wished he could just tell them he knew what they had been doing. To absolve them of their terror, but him knowing, even if he accepted it?
Well, he knew Remus likely wouldn't take it well, and Harry would likely be mortified.
Gods, Sirius wanted to tell them it was okay, but he needed to show them first, that he was there for them.
If they knew he knew, then they might hate him. They might act even more secretive.
They might hide from him, and prevent him from being a part of this, even if they didn't know he was a part of it.
He would protect them without them knowing, that was the correct position here.
He could still smell their sweat and the scent of sex in the air.
“Of course, Sirius.” Harry said, recovering quicker and forcing a laugh out, “I just wanted to catch up with Professor Lupin after he was away.”
Sirius pulled them both closer, “I get that! Who wouldn't want to talk to their favorite teacher again after all this time? Especially one as aces as Moony here! Bloody brilliant he is!! He grinned up at Moony who just now began to relax.
“Smells nice up here!” Sirius couldn't help himself, and they both stiffened, “Better than all the smells of old stuck up people I have to deal with downstairs.”
They relaxed again, “Come on now, let's go get good seats and the best of the food before everyone else crowds the table, I want to sit next to my two favorite men in the world!” Sirius added, tugging them along firmly.
He started talking about this and that as they made their way down to the kitchen.
He talked about the time that he had hidden a Cornish Pixie in his mother's stuff and charmed it invisible for two weeks.
Or the time he had scared his father by hiding under his desk and jumping out at him while casting a Sonorous charm, causing him to piss himself in terror.
Or the time that he had charmed all of Regulus’ robes from green to red but made him not notice it until his mother had a fit.
He didn't notice how happy and yet sad he had gotten talking about his father and brother, instead trying to fill the silence with something so he didn’t feel alone even if he was between them.
When they made it to the kitchen, Molly was finishing up cooking while some of the other Order members were sitting on the opposite end, nearest Molly, while Sirius sat them on the far end away from them.
He didn’t want the Order too close to them, lest they possibly find out there was something between Remus and Harry.
It was Sirius’ duty to protect that, and them from any other prying eyes.
He was their loyal hound after all.
He kept the conversation filled with lighter topics; insults about his mother, stories about his childhood, funny anecdotes he always shared when he couldn't think of anything else to fill the silence with.
When dinner was served, Sirius grew more and more antsy.
Next time Remus wouldn't be so careless about the ward.
He had likely only failed this time because he had been so excited to see Harry, as this was most certainly not a new thing.
Judging by the way they talked and acted, this surely started in Harry's third year, and gods that was a delicious idea.
The roast they were eating tasted like ash compared to the way the thoughts of how Harry could have broken through Remus’ repression flooded his head.
He smiled warmly, patted Harry on the shoulder, teased Moony about nothing in particular, and ate his food as if nothing were the matter, but Sirius was practically salivating at the thoughts his mind dazzled him with.
“I don't know, Padfoot.” Remus said, midway through the meal with a laugh, “I distinctly remember you telling him to, how did you say it? ‘Suck my left bollock’ I think it was?”
Sirius practically cackled at the memory out loud, turning to Harry and gesturing to Remus with a thumb and a grin that made Harry join him in laughter.
He ignored the image in his mind of Harry sucking on Remus’ bollocks, and the way it made him hard under the table.
He wondered if Harry had used his cloak and blown Remus under his desk during class.
Or perhaps under the faculty table during dinner.
Or maybe Remus helped give Harry some very good memories for those Patronus lessons.
Hell, Harry probably had some very interesting detentions, and Sirius wished he had seen them.
He wondered how they'd smell together when he was Padfoot fully and could identify their unique scents.
Remus’ thick musk and the smell of ink and parchment mixed with his warm cologne.
Harry's fresh warmth, broom polish, and subtly sweet musk.
The hot scent of sweat mingling together, the concentrated scents of their groins mingling into a heady aphrodisiac for Sirius to partake in.
“Fuck. Be right back, gotta piss.” Sirius laughed forcefully, and got up from the table quickly— practically fleeing down the halls.
Instead of fleeing into the nearest lavatory however, Sirius practically ran up the stairs as quickly and as quietly as he possibly could.
He couldn't take it.
He practically threw open Remus’ bedroom door and was at the bed as Padfoot before he could stop himself.
He hadn't thought about scent before, just hearing, but now that the thought had borrowed deep into his mind he knew he had to get at least the smallest bit of it satisfied as he could.
And who knew the next time he'd be able to do this?
Remus wouldn't make the same mistake with the wards again.
His nose was instantly buried into Remus’ unmade bed, and Sirius felt like he had died and gone to heaven as he recognized the heady scent of Remus’ arousal on the sheets, the traces of his sweat.
He could smell traces of his cum, his sweat soaking deep into the fabric that hadnt been washed yet even the lingering and faint scent of urine that likely clung to him after a piss.
He dug his nose in and snuffled, dragging the scent deeply into his nose and mouth as Padfoot.
And as he snuffled along, a new scent wafted up into his nose and Sirius lost what little control he had.
He hopped onto the bed and drove his nose into the scent of Harry.
It was beautiful and new!
Electric in ways Sirius hadn't anticipated, sweet in ways where Remus was savory, a faint spice and flowery scent that mixed like heaven with Remus’ musk and Sirius rolled around in it as Padfoot, unable to resist coating himself in their scent until it was all he could smell.
And as he rolled his nose, he hit something wet and tacky and his entire body went rigid for a moment before he dug his nose into the fabric and realized this was Harry's come.
Sirius went out of control even further, sniffling and trying to dig his nose through the fabric into the cold wet, tackiness of Harry's sperm, to hold the scent in his nose.
He had assumed that Remus would have vanished it right after, but maybe Remus had wanted to do something like this as well, to luxuriate in Harry's scent later when they were apart.
Or maybe he had just forgotten to do so.
Either way, Sirius sent up a prayer to the gods for this gift.
Because it was surely a blessing specially granted to him alone.
No one else in this house besides Remus would be able to appreciate this for what it was and could be!
No one but Sirius!
Sirius flicked his tongue out and it grazed the cooling semen and Sirius went into a frenzy and began to lick up as much of Harry's release he could get.
It was delicious!
Nearly just as delicious as Remus’ dried spunk stains had been all those years ago when he had soaked them in his saliva.
Harry tasted as addictive as firewhiskey. Bitter yet sweet, and Sirius longed to lap it from the source.
He wanted Remus and Harry's cum drenched across his face.
Across his snout.
Wanted to taste it whenever he could.
He barely noticed how his claws dug into the bedding as he drove his snout deeper into the sheets and licked the wetness until he was simply scrapping his dog tongue across the fabric, only gaining traces.
He barely noticed the way he was humping against the bed, against the bunched up blankets and pillows as he took in the mouthwatering scents of his brother, Moony, and godson, Harry.
Felt right.
Smelt right.
Were right.
Sirius couldn't stop the snarl and growls that escaped his snout as he thrust into the softness of the bedding knowing it was Remus’ den.
Remus’ scent clung to everything like a hot blanket of fur wrapped around Sirius, smothering him in its safety and power.
And Harry's scent was wrapped in Sirius, making Sirius feel sealed in between them both like he should be.
His claws were digging in as he bit into the pillow beneath him and imagined his pack letting him show them how good he could be for them.
How much pleasure he could give them if they let him.
He whined between snarls as he grew closer, chasing their scents like prey into the undergrowth, ready to snap his jaws closed around their combined scents and shake until he could taste them in his mouth, as thick and filled with life, semen and blood.
He could give them so much!
He could make them so happy!
He could protect them!
Keep them safe!
Love them!
Be all theirs!
He would be their loyal hound!
He'd kill as many as needed for them!
If only they let him!
Sirius howled into the bedding as he came, his teeth tearing holes into Remus’ sheet that matched his jaw.
He was panting and growling out as he rode the aftershocks of his pleasure.
Each beat of his heart sent a pulse of blood through his body, which cause him to whimper as he stained Remus’ bed, desperately trying to mix his scent into theirs so he could imagine himself in between them like he needed to be.
He began to come down from his high, and he realized how much of a mess he had made.
Shit.
If Remus saw this he'd know something, and Sirius couldn't chance that as he would hate Sirius and never let him near him again.
He'd never get to taste him or Harry again.
He'd never get to listen to them together.
He hopped down from the bed and shifted back to his human form, and looked at the mess he had created.
“Shite!” He hissed to himself, washed over with anger at his lack of control, and a dark pride at having left his mark on the room.
He pulled his wand out and cleared his throat to fix his mess when he heard footsteps coming towards the room.
And quickly.
He recognized the footfalls as Remus’ and Sirius’ heart leapt to his throat in terror.
He dropped his wand just as Remus stood in front of the doorway that Sirius realized he had forgotten to close the door.
He nearly tripped over himself scrambling to grab his wand, standing up to see Remus staring at him with narrowed eyes.
“Padfoot. What are you doing in my room?” His hand was on his waist and the other leaning against the doorframe as he stared at Sirius.
Sirius moved subtly to stand between Remus and his bed before Remus could see the mess Sirius had made.
Gods, he could smell it even as a human.
He was rightfully and truthfully fucked.
“Oh, Moony! I apparently dropped my wand up here earlier after you and Harry— I mean after I brought you and Harry to dinner!”
“And you only now realized you had dropped it?” Remus didn't seem to be buying it.
“I was too distracted. You know how I get.” Sirius laughed warmly, and though it was completely fake, he was sure he was good enough at faking laughter to seem legitimate.
Remus raised a brow and moved his head a bit to glance at his bed, but Sirius simply held his wand up, “As you can see, I got it now! Let's head back down to dinner! Without us, the Order's probably making themselves look like fools in front of Harry.”
Sirius swept past Remus, smoothly wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close.
“I'm famished! I didn’t get to finish dinner, after all!”
Remus surprisingly didn’t fight him, instead he simply seemed to look at him, and Sirius couldn't explain why that made him more nervous than before.
As they left the room and Sirius closed the door quickly, he saw Remus glanced down at the door and his eyebrows shot up for a second as his nose flared and Sirius tugged him faster.
It didn't take long, really, to get Remus back down to the dining room.
Even if his heart's rapid beating made that short trip down the stairs feel like an eternity filled with Sirius rambling on and on and on in order to keep Remus from noticing anything.
Remus, to Sirius’ gratitude, didn't seem to notice anything was off.
Sirius couldn't help but be a bit more physically affectionate with his best friend now that he knew his secret— arm slung around his shoulder as Sirius pressed to his side tightly, laughing about something he had told Remus.
They saddled back into the dining room, and Sirius steadfastly ignored any looks by the other Order members and sat on Remus' right, letting him sit next to Harry now.
“Everything okay?” Harry asked, and Sirius wasn't sure if he was asking Sirius or Remus.
“Of course.” Remus smoothly replied, smiling at Harry, “Padfoot had dropped his wand up in my room and realized it after he had a piss.”
Sirius leaned forward, looking at Harry, “Silly me. I didn't even notice till I was done.”
Harry blinked a few times at Sirius, his eyes narrowing in confusion, and then looked at Remus.
Remus must have given him a specific look because Harry's expression softened, and he shrugged.
The rest of dinner went by smoothly, with Sirius steadfastly cutting off any attempts to drag Harry or Remus into conversations by the rest of the Order.
A few times Remus had to place a hand on Sirius’ thigh and give him a shake of his head when Sirius would snarl some biting remark at the other Order members when they would make some comment that Sirius took as an insult at the two of them.
When the dinner was drawing towards its inevitable end, Sirius was shocked to notice that Remus' other hand slipped into Harry’s lap, slithered under Harry's waistband and was stroking him carefully inside his trousers.
Harry was still eating, but he had a faint sheen of sweat and his breathing was subtly off.
He was trying so hard to not make it noticeable, but Remus looked perfectly composed.
He was making polite conversation with someone else, Sirius couldn't even process who, instead clenching his fork and knife like they were the only things keeping him alive.
Sirius watched the two of them as discreetly as he possibly could, but he didn't want to miss even a single second of this.
Twice in one day?
Sirius felt like Christmas had come early and he was an eager child ready to tear the wrapping paper from his sparkly new present.
He saw Harry's eyes go hazy and distant, and his breathing picked up, and Sirius knew he was close.
Remus' other hand was on Sirius’ thigh from the last time he had held Sirius back, and his fingers were gently tapping nonsense rhythms.
He was only a few inches from Sirius’ own straining erection, and Sirius felt like he was somehow being teased and indulged at the same time.
Harry's orgasm came with a soft whimper that only the three of them would have been able to hear, and his eyes rolled back slightly, and his hands were gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles, and after a few moments of dragging it out, Remus removed his hand from Harry's trousers and before Sirius could even think anything, he quickly brought his hand up to his lips and licked the shiny liquid from his fingers, eyes making contact with Sirius, and Sirius bit his lip as he came in his trousers untouched.
Sirius felt as if his soul had just left his body— in a good way— as he floated inside his own body as the waves of pleasure carried him along.
Remus stood up as if Sirius hadn't just had one of the best orgasms he had had in years and helped Harry stand before offering a hand to Sirius— the hand that had been in Harry's pants.
The hand that had just barely been wanking Harry and had his cum clinging to the skin— still moist and slightly tacky.
Sirius had to use all his willpower to act normal, and once Remus and Harry had left the dining room, Sirius rushed to his private bedroom.
As soon as he closed the door, he slid down against the hard wood and was panting as he brought the hand Remus had shook to his nose.
He shifted it to Padfoot's nose and deeply inhaled the scent of Harry's freshly spilled semen and Remus' thick saliva.
He huffed the scent and licked his fingers and palm to taste the flavors and commit it to his memory.
He quickly got hard again, and jerked himself off as he imagined it all over again.
His fourth orgasm in one day, and after that his body was practically limp with exertion.
He was about to head to his bed, as he thought about the day.
When he surfaced from his thoughts, he was standing in front of Remus' bedroom door.
Before he knew it, he transformed to Padfoot and laid at the door, wanting to be as close to Remus as possible.
He fell asleep comforted by Remus and Harry's scents, and it drove off the nightmares of Azkaban.