ficlet: A Wolf in Girl's Underwear
Inspired by a conversation with mousapelli.
A Wolf in Girl's Underwear | HP | Remus/Sirius | PG | 1225 words
A Wolf in Girl's Underwear
Remus looked up from his Arithmancy homework to see James swagger into the room, something pink dangling from his right fist. Peter followed close behind, face flushed with triumph, bookbag clutched close to his chest.
James unfurled the item with a maniacal grin, and Sirius jumped off his bed, waving his arms around.
It was a bra, the small, pink cups edged with delicate-looking lace.
Remus had a bad feeling about this.
"You did it!" Sirius said.
"Damn right I did," James replied, brandishing the bra, making the cups jiggle.
"The house-elf helped," Peter put in, "but James was brilliant in talking him round."
Sirius made to grab the undergarment from James's hand, but James snatched it away, tucking it inside his shirt. "No, Padfoot. This is Lily's bra. You don't get to touch it."
"If I don't get to touch it, how the hell am I going to learn how to unhook it? I thought that was the purpose of this little exercise."
"Hmm. Yes," James said. "Peter, if you'd do the honors..."
Peter pulled from his satchel another bra, white, with much larger cups. "Esther Cowper's," he said. "Took it off her myself this afternoon."
Sirius grabbed it and began turning it over in his hands, a look of awe on his face. "I don't know how you do it, Peter, but today, I'm glad you do."
Peter blushed at this rare praise from Sirius, and muttered something unintelligible. Remus went back to his homework, his interest in girls negligible in a way that was worrying for any fifteen-year-old boy, especially one who didn't want to be any more different than he already was, though he tried not to think about it much.
"Remus," Sirius barked, and Remus jumped, startled. "Come here." He patted a spot next to him on the bed. Remus walked over warily and sat down. "Take your shirt off."
"What?"
Sirius plucked at Remus's shirtfront. "This. Off. Now."
"Excuse me?" Remus was impressed with how much skepticism he managed to fit into two small words.
"Someone has to be the girl," James explained. "Peter's the one who knows how to unhook the bra, and he's going to show me and Sirius."
"And what about me?" Remus demanded. He didn't care, but he didn't want them to know it. "I think Sirius should be the girl. He's prettier than I am--"
Sirius scowled. "I am not pretty."
"You really are."
"The fact that you think so makes you the girl," James said, dropping onto the end of the bed, and Remus knew he'd lost.
Sirius tried to help him unbutton his shirt, but Remus batted his hands away, disturbed at his body's response to Sirius and willing himself not to blush.
Once the shirt was off, Sirius slid the bra up Remus's arms, fingers slowly dragging along Remus's skin, making gooseflesh rise, and James pulled it tight in the back, hooking it closed.
"All right there?" Sirius asked, grinning.
Remus growled but said nothing. There was no good answer to that question. With nothing to fill them, the cups sagged sadly. The elastic chafed his skin and the lace was itchy. How did girls stand this?
"Okay," Peter said, pushing Sirius out of the way and leaning toward Remus. "You've got your hand up her shirt, or maybe you've got her shirt off, and you're snogging, so you can't really see what you're doing, you know?" He placed a hand on Remus's shoulder, his face filling Remus's vision, and Remus leaned back, uncomfortably hot all of a sudden. Peter's hands were warm against his skin, and then the bra was unhooked, and falling forward on his arms.
Two more demonstrations and James replaced Peter, his hands larger and more callused, gliding surely over Remus's back. Remus was glad his shirt was draped over his lap, because his prick was responding to James's touch.
James's breath smelled of tooth-flossing stringmints and his hair smelled of sweat. His lips were very red and so very close to Remus's now, and Remus had to close his eyes and swallow, perspiration forming at his hairline as James's skilled fingers undressed him, once, twice, three times.
"One-handed!" James whooped as the bra once again fell down Remus's arms, and then Sirius shoved him out of the way.
"My turn," Sirius said brusquely. His fingers were longer and slimmer than James's, and his breath smelled of lemon sherbets, and up close, his skin was very fine, its olive smoothness broken only the dark stubble he was so proud of. Remus swayed forward slightly as Sirius leaned into him. So close now, and Sirius didn't stop moving. "Might as well do it up right," he muttered just before his lips brushed Remus's.
Remus gasped at the sensation, and again as Sirius's tongue pushed into his mouth, sliding against his like warm, wet silk. Remus was aware of every inch of his skin; every place where Sirius's hands and mouth touched him was on fire. He moved his tongue over and around Sirius's, barely able to keep his hands from tangling in Sirius's thick, dark hair. He also fought the temptation to push Sirius down onto the bed and climb on top of him.
Sirius broke the kiss with a crow of triumph, the bra slipped off, and Remus shivered as it moved over his now-sensitive skin. He licked his lips and waited for a cue from Sirius, because he was fairly certain that normal boys did not kiss each other, not even when one was pretending to be a girl (he was also fairly certain that normal boys didn't pretend to be girls, either), but Sirius wouldn't meet his eyes. James and Peter were staring at them with a mix of fascination and disgust, so Remus jumped up and pulled the bra off completely.
"I think we're done here," he said, glad his voice only wavered a little. He tossed the offending undergarment to Peter and pulled on his shirt. "I'm going for a walk."
He was almost halfway around the lake when Sirius caught up with him.
"You really are a girl," was the first thing Sirius said.
"Fuck off." He crossed his arms over his chest and kept walking.
"It was just a kiss." Remus threw him an over-the-shoulder glare, and Sirius corrected himself. "Okay, it was a brilliant kiss, but still, you act like--" Sirius grabbed him, forced him to turn around. "Fuck, Remus, was it your first kiss?"
"I said, fuck off," Remus replied, shaking off Sirius's hand and resuming his walk. He heard Sirius grunt and follow, and thought that really, dog was the perfect form for him, because he never gave up, he just held on until he got what he wanted.
"For a first kiss, you did pretty well," Sirius said reflectively. "Though if you want to practice, I'm here for you."
Remus whirled to face him, hot with lust and embarrassment. "Boys aren't supposed to kiss other boys," he hissed. "It's not normal."
Sirius blinked and shook his head. "When have we ever been normal?"
It was the casual way he said it, we, not you, that broke Remus's already shaky resolve. He reached out and pulled Sirius close, one hand fisting in his shirt and the other threading through his hair.
"Never," Remus answered, and kissed him.
end
***
Feedback, comments, suggestions always welcome.
*does the dance of I Finished Something! Woo!*
A Wolf in Girl's Underwear | HP | Remus/Sirius | PG | 1225 words
A Wolf in Girl's Underwear
Remus looked up from his Arithmancy homework to see James swagger into the room, something pink dangling from his right fist. Peter followed close behind, face flushed with triumph, bookbag clutched close to his chest.
James unfurled the item with a maniacal grin, and Sirius jumped off his bed, waving his arms around.
It was a bra, the small, pink cups edged with delicate-looking lace.
Remus had a bad feeling about this.
"You did it!" Sirius said.
"Damn right I did," James replied, brandishing the bra, making the cups jiggle.
"The house-elf helped," Peter put in, "but James was brilliant in talking him round."
Sirius made to grab the undergarment from James's hand, but James snatched it away, tucking it inside his shirt. "No, Padfoot. This is Lily's bra. You don't get to touch it."
"If I don't get to touch it, how the hell am I going to learn how to unhook it? I thought that was the purpose of this little exercise."
"Hmm. Yes," James said. "Peter, if you'd do the honors..."
Peter pulled from his satchel another bra, white, with much larger cups. "Esther Cowper's," he said. "Took it off her myself this afternoon."
Sirius grabbed it and began turning it over in his hands, a look of awe on his face. "I don't know how you do it, Peter, but today, I'm glad you do."
Peter blushed at this rare praise from Sirius, and muttered something unintelligible. Remus went back to his homework, his interest in girls negligible in a way that was worrying for any fifteen-year-old boy, especially one who didn't want to be any more different than he already was, though he tried not to think about it much.
"Remus," Sirius barked, and Remus jumped, startled. "Come here." He patted a spot next to him on the bed. Remus walked over warily and sat down. "Take your shirt off."
"What?"
Sirius plucked at Remus's shirtfront. "This. Off. Now."
"Excuse me?" Remus was impressed with how much skepticism he managed to fit into two small words.
"Someone has to be the girl," James explained. "Peter's the one who knows how to unhook the bra, and he's going to show me and Sirius."
"And what about me?" Remus demanded. He didn't care, but he didn't want them to know it. "I think Sirius should be the girl. He's prettier than I am--"
Sirius scowled. "I am not pretty."
"You really are."
"The fact that you think so makes you the girl," James said, dropping onto the end of the bed, and Remus knew he'd lost.
Sirius tried to help him unbutton his shirt, but Remus batted his hands away, disturbed at his body's response to Sirius and willing himself not to blush.
Once the shirt was off, Sirius slid the bra up Remus's arms, fingers slowly dragging along Remus's skin, making gooseflesh rise, and James pulled it tight in the back, hooking it closed.
"All right there?" Sirius asked, grinning.
Remus growled but said nothing. There was no good answer to that question. With nothing to fill them, the cups sagged sadly. The elastic chafed his skin and the lace was itchy. How did girls stand this?
"Okay," Peter said, pushing Sirius out of the way and leaning toward Remus. "You've got your hand up her shirt, or maybe you've got her shirt off, and you're snogging, so you can't really see what you're doing, you know?" He placed a hand on Remus's shoulder, his face filling Remus's vision, and Remus leaned back, uncomfortably hot all of a sudden. Peter's hands were warm against his skin, and then the bra was unhooked, and falling forward on his arms.
Two more demonstrations and James replaced Peter, his hands larger and more callused, gliding surely over Remus's back. Remus was glad his shirt was draped over his lap, because his prick was responding to James's touch.
James's breath smelled of tooth-flossing stringmints and his hair smelled of sweat. His lips were very red and so very close to Remus's now, and Remus had to close his eyes and swallow, perspiration forming at his hairline as James's skilled fingers undressed him, once, twice, three times.
"One-handed!" James whooped as the bra once again fell down Remus's arms, and then Sirius shoved him out of the way.
"My turn," Sirius said brusquely. His fingers were longer and slimmer than James's, and his breath smelled of lemon sherbets, and up close, his skin was very fine, its olive smoothness broken only the dark stubble he was so proud of. Remus swayed forward slightly as Sirius leaned into him. So close now, and Sirius didn't stop moving. "Might as well do it up right," he muttered just before his lips brushed Remus's.
Remus gasped at the sensation, and again as Sirius's tongue pushed into his mouth, sliding against his like warm, wet silk. Remus was aware of every inch of his skin; every place where Sirius's hands and mouth touched him was on fire. He moved his tongue over and around Sirius's, barely able to keep his hands from tangling in Sirius's thick, dark hair. He also fought the temptation to push Sirius down onto the bed and climb on top of him.
Sirius broke the kiss with a crow of triumph, the bra slipped off, and Remus shivered as it moved over his now-sensitive skin. He licked his lips and waited for a cue from Sirius, because he was fairly certain that normal boys did not kiss each other, not even when one was pretending to be a girl (he was also fairly certain that normal boys didn't pretend to be girls, either), but Sirius wouldn't meet his eyes. James and Peter were staring at them with a mix of fascination and disgust, so Remus jumped up and pulled the bra off completely.
"I think we're done here," he said, glad his voice only wavered a little. He tossed the offending undergarment to Peter and pulled on his shirt. "I'm going for a walk."
He was almost halfway around the lake when Sirius caught up with him.
"You really are a girl," was the first thing Sirius said.
"Fuck off." He crossed his arms over his chest and kept walking.
"It was just a kiss." Remus threw him an over-the-shoulder glare, and Sirius corrected himself. "Okay, it was a brilliant kiss, but still, you act like--" Sirius grabbed him, forced him to turn around. "Fuck, Remus, was it your first kiss?"
"I said, fuck off," Remus replied, shaking off Sirius's hand and resuming his walk. He heard Sirius grunt and follow, and thought that really, dog was the perfect form for him, because he never gave up, he just held on until he got what he wanted.
"For a first kiss, you did pretty well," Sirius said reflectively. "Though if you want to practice, I'm here for you."
Remus whirled to face him, hot with lust and embarrassment. "Boys aren't supposed to kiss other boys," he hissed. "It's not normal."
Sirius blinked and shook his head. "When have we ever been normal?"
It was the casual way he said it, we, not you, that broke Remus's already shaky resolve. He reached out and pulled Sirius close, one hand fisting in his shirt and the other threading through his hair.
"Never," Remus answered, and kissed him.
end
***
Feedback, comments, suggestions always welcome.
*does the dance of I Finished Something! Woo!*