"Relinquish" for hp_kinkmemes
Title: Relinquish
Author: museme87
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1,435
Warnings: sexual situations, rimming
Summary: Sirius has been begging Remus for weeks to try something new in bed, but Remus isn't quite sure what to do about it.
Author's Note: Written for hp_kinkmemes for the prompt of "rimming, shy Remus."
"Wait!" Remus says in a panic.
He's sure by this point that Sirius is fed-up with him; after all, they've been going back and forth about this for weeks now. What makes matters worse is that they're stuck at a Muggle campsite-James' idea: we'll camp just like the Muggles do for summer holiday; it'll be brilliant!-with Muggle camping equipment. Only it's not brilliant, and Sirius is considerably more cranky because of it, which makes their issues that much worse. And judging by the way Sirius crawls up their makeshift bed-really it's nothing more than a pair of magicked-together sleeping bags with cushioning charms-and pops his head out from under the covers with a scowl, it seems that they've likely passed fed-up a few days ago.
"Yes, love?" Sirius asks sweetly, through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, Remus feels a wave of guilt for all his protesting. Sirius has been deeply understanding about boundaries that he's wanted to set-from the pace of their relationship itself to who is privy to it-and he's been nothing short of a wet blanket every time Sirius wants to try something new. Or at least that's how he feels. It's just that he wants to be cautious because no one really knows all of the ways lycanthropy can be transmitted, and the last thing that he wants is Sirius to catch it. So if they have to dot every bloody i and cross their t's, so be it.
This, though-this new thing that Sirius is desperate to try-they've researched to hell and back, and it's apparently safe. But Remus isn't quite sure that it's about lycanthropy anymore, nor does he believe that Sirius thinks it's about that either. Maybe he's been using his disease as an excuse this whole time to avoid the sheer embarrassment of it. Of Sirius wanting to stick his tongue there. The idea of it excites him in some strange way, but it also makes his cheeks burn in the same instant.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure!" Sirius answers harshly, eyes flitting over to James and Peter's nearby tent to make sure no one is stirring. "Moony, if you don't want to do it, just tell me. I won't be angry."
Remus frowns. "You seem a bit hacked off to me."
"That's because you've been fucking me around for the past few weeks. You want this and then you don't. I don't know what to think anymore. Just tell me. Honestly."
The way Sirius looks at him-full of worry and tenderness-puts Remus at ease. He nestles in closer to Sirius, pushes back the sweat-damp hair that clings to Sirius' face, and sighs. How to word this. How to tell Sirius that has wanted so very few things in his entire life as much as he wants this without losing his courage. Some shitty excuse of a Gryffindor he is.
Where dwell the brave of heart, my arse. Coward.
"Do you want this?"
"Moony?"
"Hmm?"
Remus feels his hand being guided, feels it brush against the sweat-slick skin of Sirius' already hard cock. He whimpers at the touch of it, at how badly he is wanted-is always wanted-by Sirius. There's his answer, then; Sirius is ready to do this. If only he could be so sure of himself.
"If you're not ready, we're not ready, Remus."
"I'm ready!" And Sirius covers Remus' mouth briefly, shooting him a look before motioning towards their friends' tent. "Sorry. But I am. It's just a little strange to want this."
"Why?"
Remus begins to feel the tell tale heat in his cheeks. "What if I don't taste good? I mean, it's my arse, for Christ's sake."
He doesn't expect the bark of laughter from Sirius, nor the feel of Sirius' smile against the palm of his hand when it's his turn to hush Sirius up. Remus glowers upon being laughed at; he thought it was a very legitimate concern.
"It'll be brilliant. Don't worry about it. I had to practically drag you from the camp's showers, if you remember correctly. Probably not a cleaner arse in all of England." Sirius kisses his squarely on the mouth. "Just roll over and relax."
Remus does so, but not without first trying-and failing, with a swift finger to the lips-to ask Sirius to stop if he isn't enjoying himself. With a huff he waits, face aflame, as Sirius shifts around him. And as if Sirius senses that he's not going to relax without some coaxing, Sirius begins slowly, kissing the base of Remus' neck. Remus lifts his shoulders to the touch, having been eager for alone time with Sirius since they arrived at the campground earlier that day. And as ashamed as he is to say it, the fact that James and Peter are only a few strides away adds that extra layer of excitement to the whole thing.
Sirius works his way down Remus' back, kissing every ridge of his spine with great care. The magic is working, Remus realizes, as his muscles relax, as he breathes a sigh of relief. Suddenly, all is right in his world. Sirius kissing him, the shroud of darkness, the sounds from the woods, the-
His stomach muscles clench at the feel of Sirius reaching the base of his spine. Sirius must sense this because he rubs soothing circles into the skin of his lower back and shushes him with comforting words. Then he feels it-Sirius parting him, the wetness of Sirius' tongue against sensitive flesh.
It's strange at first-perhaps stranger because he can't quite help anticipating Sirius' inevitable announcement that this was a huge mistake. However, Sirius doesn't stop. And a flick of that tongue-talented in a hundred different ways as far as Remus is concerned-has a small whimper sounding from Remus' lips, unwillingly. It's so small that Remus wonders if Sirius has even heard it, but the moan that escapes Sirius, in that low gravelly baritone, tells Remus that he has.
As Sirius continues to relish him with attention-brief flicks, long licks, and finally the pressing in earnest to penetrate him-Remus tries to muffle the sounds that Sirius draws from him. Briefly, he worries that Sirius will think he's not enjoying himself if he doesn't have vocal encouragement, but then Remus thinks better of it. His near-uncontrollable thrusting and writhing ought to clue Sirius in on just how much Remus is loving rimming.
And he's hard, so unbelievably close to coming that it isn't even funny. He feels the tell-tale tingling in his lower belly, the way he can't quite catch his breath. His eyes shut tight. Remus tries to grasp this growing sensation, intangible though it is. And fleeting. So God-awful fleeting. But it's there, especially when Sirius presses past the tight-ring of muscle, when he hears the sounds of Sirius' gasped cries. And now, when he's rutting against the sleeping bags, trying desperately to get a hand between his body and the ground to bring himself off.
Sirius manages it for him though, slipping a hand between his legs. It's the barest of touch that undoes him-no more than a flutter really. The spasms of bliss rock him. His body, for one moment, only feels this-what Sirius wrought from him. It's a flood of ignorance, of feeling, of nothing in the world mattering but the sensations slipping from his body with every ribbon of come. And Sirius. Always Sirius.
The peak of the moment dulls, and he's falling. Slipping. Slipping into something too vivid, too harsh. Reality. And he wants the flood again, not even before it's entirely left him. The only thing that brings it back-small, only a crest-is the feel of Sirius spilling his come on his arse, between his spread cheeks. Then, and not a moment before Sirius finishes, he hits rock bottom.
Remus can't move for a long while, but Sirius-with his boundless energy-is crawling up to the pillow next to him only moments after coming. They hold each other's gaze for a while, Sirius' so full of vibrancy and alertness. His own must look like he's hopped up on sleeping draught and pain potions in comparison.
But his attention is caught for a brief minute when the smile on Sirius' lips spreads and his eyes glimmer.
"That was really dreadful, Moony. I can't believe you talked me into it," he says with easiness and humor.
And Remus has just enough energy to swat him on the arm, but not without a grin. "Bastard."
Author: museme87
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 1,435
Warnings: sexual situations, rimming
Summary: Sirius has been begging Remus for weeks to try something new in bed, but Remus isn't quite sure what to do about it.
Author's Note: Written for hp_kinkmemes for the prompt of "rimming, shy Remus."
"Wait!" Remus says in a panic.
He's sure by this point that Sirius is fed-up with him; after all, they've been going back and forth about this for weeks now. What makes matters worse is that they're stuck at a Muggle campsite-James' idea: we'll camp just like the Muggles do for summer holiday; it'll be brilliant!-with Muggle camping equipment. Only it's not brilliant, and Sirius is considerably more cranky because of it, which makes their issues that much worse. And judging by the way Sirius crawls up their makeshift bed-really it's nothing more than a pair of magicked-together sleeping bags with cushioning charms-and pops his head out from under the covers with a scowl, it seems that they've likely passed fed-up a few days ago.
"Yes, love?" Sirius asks sweetly, through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, Remus feels a wave of guilt for all his protesting. Sirius has been deeply understanding about boundaries that he's wanted to set-from the pace of their relationship itself to who is privy to it-and he's been nothing short of a wet blanket every time Sirius wants to try something new. Or at least that's how he feels. It's just that he wants to be cautious because no one really knows all of the ways lycanthropy can be transmitted, and the last thing that he wants is Sirius to catch it. So if they have to dot every bloody i and cross their t's, so be it.
This, though-this new thing that Sirius is desperate to try-they've researched to hell and back, and it's apparently safe. But Remus isn't quite sure that it's about lycanthropy anymore, nor does he believe that Sirius thinks it's about that either. Maybe he's been using his disease as an excuse this whole time to avoid the sheer embarrassment of it. Of Sirius wanting to stick his tongue there. The idea of it excites him in some strange way, but it also makes his cheeks burn in the same instant.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure!" Sirius answers harshly, eyes flitting over to James and Peter's nearby tent to make sure no one is stirring. "Moony, if you don't want to do it, just tell me. I won't be angry."
Remus frowns. "You seem a bit hacked off to me."
"That's because you've been fucking me around for the past few weeks. You want this and then you don't. I don't know what to think anymore. Just tell me. Honestly."
The way Sirius looks at him-full of worry and tenderness-puts Remus at ease. He nestles in closer to Sirius, pushes back the sweat-damp hair that clings to Sirius' face, and sighs. How to word this. How to tell Sirius that has wanted so very few things in his entire life as much as he wants this without losing his courage. Some shitty excuse of a Gryffindor he is.
Where dwell the brave of heart, my arse. Coward.
"Do you want this?"
"Moony?"
"Hmm?"
Remus feels his hand being guided, feels it brush against the sweat-slick skin of Sirius' already hard cock. He whimpers at the touch of it, at how badly he is wanted-is always wanted-by Sirius. There's his answer, then; Sirius is ready to do this. If only he could be so sure of himself.
"If you're not ready, we're not ready, Remus."
"I'm ready!" And Sirius covers Remus' mouth briefly, shooting him a look before motioning towards their friends' tent. "Sorry. But I am. It's just a little strange to want this."
"Why?"
Remus begins to feel the tell tale heat in his cheeks. "What if I don't taste good? I mean, it's my arse, for Christ's sake."
He doesn't expect the bark of laughter from Sirius, nor the feel of Sirius' smile against the palm of his hand when it's his turn to hush Sirius up. Remus glowers upon being laughed at; he thought it was a very legitimate concern.
"It'll be brilliant. Don't worry about it. I had to practically drag you from the camp's showers, if you remember correctly. Probably not a cleaner arse in all of England." Sirius kisses his squarely on the mouth. "Just roll over and relax."
Remus does so, but not without first trying-and failing, with a swift finger to the lips-to ask Sirius to stop if he isn't enjoying himself. With a huff he waits, face aflame, as Sirius shifts around him. And as if Sirius senses that he's not going to relax without some coaxing, Sirius begins slowly, kissing the base of Remus' neck. Remus lifts his shoulders to the touch, having been eager for alone time with Sirius since they arrived at the campground earlier that day. And as ashamed as he is to say it, the fact that James and Peter are only a few strides away adds that extra layer of excitement to the whole thing.
Sirius works his way down Remus' back, kissing every ridge of his spine with great care. The magic is working, Remus realizes, as his muscles relax, as he breathes a sigh of relief. Suddenly, all is right in his world. Sirius kissing him, the shroud of darkness, the sounds from the woods, the-
His stomach muscles clench at the feel of Sirius reaching the base of his spine. Sirius must sense this because he rubs soothing circles into the skin of his lower back and shushes him with comforting words. Then he feels it-Sirius parting him, the wetness of Sirius' tongue against sensitive flesh.
It's strange at first-perhaps stranger because he can't quite help anticipating Sirius' inevitable announcement that this was a huge mistake. However, Sirius doesn't stop. And a flick of that tongue-talented in a hundred different ways as far as Remus is concerned-has a small whimper sounding from Remus' lips, unwillingly. It's so small that Remus wonders if Sirius has even heard it, but the moan that escapes Sirius, in that low gravelly baritone, tells Remus that he has.
As Sirius continues to relish him with attention-brief flicks, long licks, and finally the pressing in earnest to penetrate him-Remus tries to muffle the sounds that Sirius draws from him. Briefly, he worries that Sirius will think he's not enjoying himself if he doesn't have vocal encouragement, but then Remus thinks better of it. His near-uncontrollable thrusting and writhing ought to clue Sirius in on just how much Remus is loving rimming.
And he's hard, so unbelievably close to coming that it isn't even funny. He feels the tell-tale tingling in his lower belly, the way he can't quite catch his breath. His eyes shut tight. Remus tries to grasp this growing sensation, intangible though it is. And fleeting. So God-awful fleeting. But it's there, especially when Sirius presses past the tight-ring of muscle, when he hears the sounds of Sirius' gasped cries. And now, when he's rutting against the sleeping bags, trying desperately to get a hand between his body and the ground to bring himself off.
Sirius manages it for him though, slipping a hand between his legs. It's the barest of touch that undoes him-no more than a flutter really. The spasms of bliss rock him. His body, for one moment, only feels this-what Sirius wrought from him. It's a flood of ignorance, of feeling, of nothing in the world mattering but the sensations slipping from his body with every ribbon of come. And Sirius. Always Sirius.
The peak of the moment dulls, and he's falling. Slipping. Slipping into something too vivid, too harsh. Reality. And he wants the flood again, not even before it's entirely left him. The only thing that brings it back-small, only a crest-is the feel of Sirius spilling his come on his arse, between his spread cheeks. Then, and not a moment before Sirius finishes, he hits rock bottom.
Remus can't move for a long while, but Sirius-with his boundless energy-is crawling up to the pillow next to him only moments after coming. They hold each other's gaze for a while, Sirius' so full of vibrancy and alertness. His own must look like he's hopped up on sleeping draught and pain potions in comparison.
But his attention is caught for a brief minute when the smile on Sirius' lips spreads and his eyes glimmer.
"That was really dreadful, Moony. I can't believe you talked me into it," he says with easiness and humor.
And Remus has just enough energy to swat him on the arm, but not without a grin. "Bastard."