Merry Christmas to pink_faerie81!
Okay, here's the no. eight Christmas gift, and while I like it very, very much; I feel kinda bad about it. I know it's unfair that some people got so short drabbles, and others, well, very large ones; and I'm really sorry, but this is my OTP, and well, it's got pirates! Sexy pirates with sexy ruffled shirts and swords! (no pun intended). Beta-ed half the way by why_me_why_not, and crossposted to starcrossedmoon and remusxsirius.
Title: Stockholm Syndrome
Raiting: PG
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 1769
Author Notes: Written for the lovely pink_faerie81, whose promt word was heat and her interest was pirates. Entirely AU, with bratty!Remus and lame-seducer!Sirius. Hope you like it hon!
Sirius laughs as he drinks with this lovely man with the brown hair, and he thanks whatever god exists for this shaggable young thing that has insisted on buying him a drink, all shy words and coy smiles. The sixth pint goes down his throat, and he can see a crimson blush on John’s cheeks. He wonders what can a nice boy like him is doing in this place, along with the hookers calling from the thresholds and the alcohol drowning the tropical ground; but he manages to keep his mouth shut for an entire half an hour, when the question finally leaves his lips without consulting his brain.
Someone’s fighting in the background as John stares at him, surprised at his question by the look of his face, and Sirius plays with the earring in his left ear as to avoid looking at him as he says, “Well, I had planned on opening a bookstore in here, but things got, erm, sidetracked.” John coughs, and with the twitching Sirius can almost swear he sees a crescent moon tattooed on his chest, just below the neckline of his ruffled yellowing shirt. “What about you?” he continues, and Sirius’ eyes move back to the other man’s face (Bad boy, he thinks, staring like that.)
The music starts, off-key violins and an accordion, and before he knows it he has John’s hands in his, twirling him around as they laugh drunkenly and avoid shapely waitresses with their cleavage showing and too much make-up. There are shouts as everyone sings their favorite song, and Sirius’ long hair is flying behind them as they dance in the putrid-smelling, dingy bar. They go out to the starry night, the rush of heated air making them finally notice the smoke that has adhered to their clothes, and Sirius congratulates himself when John laughs as he shoots a water bucket across the street.
John offers him a drink, and Sirius downs it quickly just before dragging the other man close for a sloppy kiss. A brush of lips (subtle, warm, apple tasting), and suddenly the world goes black.
- - - - -
Sirius wakes up with his stomach moving in tune with the waves he’s grown accustomed to, up and down in a perpetual cycle. His head is pounding, and he itches just about everywhere. He lays on the cold ground for another minute, trying to swallow back the nausea and confusion of just how he ever came back to the Lily, when the last thing he remembers is kissing that lovely John boy at four in the morning on a dark and empty street.
He groans as he shifts a little, and his right foot hits something hard. He opens his eyes groggily, and when the blurred figures turn into a serious-looking John, crouching with his hands on his knees and more importantly, framed by thick wooden bars, he can’t help but jump a little. He sits up, slowly, as if to aid his throbbing headache. He looks around, and he finds himself in a square prison of some sorts, the unmistakable smell of fish and salt tickling his nose with its familiarity, along with the sweat and rotten scents that mark this as another pirate ship.
Well, shit, he thinks just before backing up against the mossy wall and narrowing his eyes at John, who’s just looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “What is the meaning of this, John?” he asks with the fear of capture already saturating his blood.
“That’s Lupin to you, Potter, and I’m the one asking the questions here.” the man says, with every ounce of the once-there warmth gone from his voice. Well, fuck. He improves his thinking as he tries to swallow all of this new information.
“You can’t mean… no, no, you can’t be Remus Lupin, now can you?” Sirius says, mostly talking to himself, as he moves forward until his hands are around the wooden bars. “You can’t be him, you’re too scrawny, and way too pretty for a nasty pirate.”
The brown haired man moves too fast for his eyes to follow, and suddenly a pistol is being held against his forehead. “You better start believing it, Potter, before you get your pretty ears blown off.” he says with his lips curling, almost spitting the word ‘pretty’. So Sirius decides quite intelligently to believe him, especially since he can see the gun is actually his own, and Lupin still has two other pistols tucked into the red piece of cloth that passes off as a belt. He examines Lupin, and now that the man is standing in his boat, with a sword laying some feet away from him, black boots shining with the light filtering from the trapdoor that must lead to the deck; he looks nothing like the shy thing Sirius had seduced in a bar. He looked powerful, dangerous, with a sincerely scary smirk to add to the image. Against his will, Sirius found it terribly attractive.
It looks like I hit a nerve, Sirius’ mind thinks absently, and then he notices something much more important. “Wait a minute, I’m not James!” He spurts, and then kicks himself mentally from giving too much information. He’s heard tales about Lupin, - everyone has - and they all agree on one thing: the rowdy pirate is as smart as a devil. There’s only one step now until he connects the dots and figures out Sirius’ second in command in the Lily, James Potter’s ship.
“Oh, and you’re expecting me to believe that?” So not so smart, after all. Sirius tries matching Lupin’s accent in his mind, but he’d lived in London his whole life, and he doesn’t recognize it. A country boy, then; he can best that. The pistol presses harder, and his resolve vanishes.
“No really, my name’s Sirius Black, as I told you in the bar!”
“Prove it,” Lupin says with arrogance in his tone. Sirius bites his lip, because he knows he can’t exactly tell about Lily wearing trousers (albeit clean ones) and working as one of the crew, about little Harry already learning swordsmanship from both James and himself; he can’t betray them just to save his ass.
“Well, I’ve heard he’s fifty something, and he’s missing an arm; and as you can see my arm is still beautiful and attached to me. See?” Sirius moves his arm as to prove his point, and Lupin rolls his eyes. As if on cue, a mousy looking man puts his head through the open trapdoor, upsides down and looking shifty.
“Erm, Cap, so sorry but, James Potter has just cannoned the City Hall.” The man smiles apologetically, and Sirius wonders at his luck.
“What?” Says Lupin agitatedly, as he finally stands to his feet. He doesn’t seem to be waiting for an answer though, and he sinks his hands in his brown hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He says, as kicks some of the empty boxes laying messily around the room. “How could I have mistaken him!”
Sirius giggles a bit (in a very manly way, of course), and Lupin turns to him with his teeth showing and red across his cheeks, as he points the pistol that had been dangling from his fingers through his childish tantrum to Sirius’ head. “Don’t you dare laugh, you arrogant filth!”
“I wasn’t,” says Sirius hurriedly, and he raises himself up, still on his knees. “but can I go now? I mean, now that you know I’m nothing but an innocent bystander?” Luck, luck, luck; that’s what Sirius is made of.
“Oh, and Captain,” Says the mousy man, who Sirius had almost forgotten. “Apparently Potter’s looking for his second in command, Honesty Black, or some crap like that. Ta!” And he’s gone, and Sirius scratches his last thought before putting his most charming smile on his face.
A slow, predatory smile appears on Lupin’s face, and Sirius involuntarily slouches, his smile faltering a bit. “So the stray seduction extraordinaire is worth something after all,” Lupin says slowly, and then adds as an afterthought, “and by the way, you can’t seduce for shit.”
“Ha ha bloody ha.” Sirius narrows his eyes, and he glares as Lupin puts his pistol back into his makeshift belt, and approaches the cage. “Don’t lie Lupin, you were all over me.”
“Yes well, I thought you were Potter, now didn’t I?” He says with a tilt of an eyebrow, a curl of his lip, and Sirius doesn’t know whether he should be pissed off as hell or aroused. “Anyway, I do hope you like your pretty little cage, as you’ll be staying quite a long time in it.”
“What?” It’s Sirius’ turn to be horrified, and he’s sure his expression makes that quite clear. “You can’t keep me here!”
“Yes I can, and I will.” Lupin steps closer, and Sirius finally stands up in order to glare into his eyes.
“No you won’t!”
For all response, Lupin grabs his chin and brings his mouth down on Sirius’s, hard and violently; bruising as Sirius kisses back with the surprise, his temples straining from the place the bars are cutting into his skin. But then he doesn’t care as Lupin’s tongue enters his mouth, as a tan hand goes around the bars and gets under his shirt (under his skin). And then as soon as it begins it ends, Lupin pulls back with that annoying smirk in place and Sirius wants his breath back, his dignity back; as he becomes aware he’s clinging to the wood for support, red faced and swollen lips.
“I needed a new sex pet anyways,” Lupin says just before he turns his back on Sirius and goes up the stairs, up into the sun with Sirius’ sanity right behind him.
Sirius curses until his throat is raw, kicking and punching until his knuckles bleed; but when night comes and Lupin comes along too, he wonders if maybe this isn’t such a bad thing after all.
But then James blasts a hole to the deck with a cannon in his heroic (or so he says) rescue, and well, his brain clears up a bit.
Until a few months later of course, when he starts a confusing game of kidnapper and victim (and a nasty case of Stockholm syndrome) in dark alleys with a certain brown haired pirate. As he takes a big swig to a bottle of rum, Remus’ body warm against him in a flea filled hotel by the coast, he decides he definitely is crazy; but he doesn’t mind too much after all.
Title: Stockholm Syndrome
Raiting: PG
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Word Count: 1769
Author Notes: Written for the lovely pink_faerie81, whose promt word was heat and her interest was pirates. Entirely AU, with bratty!Remus and lame-seducer!Sirius. Hope you like it hon!
Sirius laughs as he drinks with this lovely man with the brown hair, and he thanks whatever god exists for this shaggable young thing that has insisted on buying him a drink, all shy words and coy smiles. The sixth pint goes down his throat, and he can see a crimson blush on John’s cheeks. He wonders what can a nice boy like him is doing in this place, along with the hookers calling from the thresholds and the alcohol drowning the tropical ground; but he manages to keep his mouth shut for an entire half an hour, when the question finally leaves his lips without consulting his brain.
Someone’s fighting in the background as John stares at him, surprised at his question by the look of his face, and Sirius plays with the earring in his left ear as to avoid looking at him as he says, “Well, I had planned on opening a bookstore in here, but things got, erm, sidetracked.” John coughs, and with the twitching Sirius can almost swear he sees a crescent moon tattooed on his chest, just below the neckline of his ruffled yellowing shirt. “What about you?” he continues, and Sirius’ eyes move back to the other man’s face (Bad boy, he thinks, staring like that.)
The music starts, off-key violins and an accordion, and before he knows it he has John’s hands in his, twirling him around as they laugh drunkenly and avoid shapely waitresses with their cleavage showing and too much make-up. There are shouts as everyone sings their favorite song, and Sirius’ long hair is flying behind them as they dance in the putrid-smelling, dingy bar. They go out to the starry night, the rush of heated air making them finally notice the smoke that has adhered to their clothes, and Sirius congratulates himself when John laughs as he shoots a water bucket across the street.
John offers him a drink, and Sirius downs it quickly just before dragging the other man close for a sloppy kiss. A brush of lips (subtle, warm, apple tasting), and suddenly the world goes black.
- - - - -
Sirius wakes up with his stomach moving in tune with the waves he’s grown accustomed to, up and down in a perpetual cycle. His head is pounding, and he itches just about everywhere. He lays on the cold ground for another minute, trying to swallow back the nausea and confusion of just how he ever came back to the Lily, when the last thing he remembers is kissing that lovely John boy at four in the morning on a dark and empty street.
He groans as he shifts a little, and his right foot hits something hard. He opens his eyes groggily, and when the blurred figures turn into a serious-looking John, crouching with his hands on his knees and more importantly, framed by thick wooden bars, he can’t help but jump a little. He sits up, slowly, as if to aid his throbbing headache. He looks around, and he finds himself in a square prison of some sorts, the unmistakable smell of fish and salt tickling his nose with its familiarity, along with the sweat and rotten scents that mark this as another pirate ship.
Well, shit, he thinks just before backing up against the mossy wall and narrowing his eyes at John, who’s just looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “What is the meaning of this, John?” he asks with the fear of capture already saturating his blood.
“That’s Lupin to you, Potter, and I’m the one asking the questions here.” the man says, with every ounce of the once-there warmth gone from his voice. Well, fuck. He improves his thinking as he tries to swallow all of this new information.
“You can’t mean… no, no, you can’t be Remus Lupin, now can you?” Sirius says, mostly talking to himself, as he moves forward until his hands are around the wooden bars. “You can’t be him, you’re too scrawny, and way too pretty for a nasty pirate.”
The brown haired man moves too fast for his eyes to follow, and suddenly a pistol is being held against his forehead. “You better start believing it, Potter, before you get your pretty ears blown off.” he says with his lips curling, almost spitting the word ‘pretty’. So Sirius decides quite intelligently to believe him, especially since he can see the gun is actually his own, and Lupin still has two other pistols tucked into the red piece of cloth that passes off as a belt. He examines Lupin, and now that the man is standing in his boat, with a sword laying some feet away from him, black boots shining with the light filtering from the trapdoor that must lead to the deck; he looks nothing like the shy thing Sirius had seduced in a bar. He looked powerful, dangerous, with a sincerely scary smirk to add to the image. Against his will, Sirius found it terribly attractive.
It looks like I hit a nerve, Sirius’ mind thinks absently, and then he notices something much more important. “Wait a minute, I’m not James!” He spurts, and then kicks himself mentally from giving too much information. He’s heard tales about Lupin, - everyone has - and they all agree on one thing: the rowdy pirate is as smart as a devil. There’s only one step now until he connects the dots and figures out Sirius’ second in command in the Lily, James Potter’s ship.
“Oh, and you’re expecting me to believe that?” So not so smart, after all. Sirius tries matching Lupin’s accent in his mind, but he’d lived in London his whole life, and he doesn’t recognize it. A country boy, then; he can best that. The pistol presses harder, and his resolve vanishes.
“No really, my name’s Sirius Black, as I told you in the bar!”
“Prove it,” Lupin says with arrogance in his tone. Sirius bites his lip, because he knows he can’t exactly tell about Lily wearing trousers (albeit clean ones) and working as one of the crew, about little Harry already learning swordsmanship from both James and himself; he can’t betray them just to save his ass.
“Well, I’ve heard he’s fifty something, and he’s missing an arm; and as you can see my arm is still beautiful and attached to me. See?” Sirius moves his arm as to prove his point, and Lupin rolls his eyes. As if on cue, a mousy looking man puts his head through the open trapdoor, upsides down and looking shifty.
“Erm, Cap, so sorry but, James Potter has just cannoned the City Hall.” The man smiles apologetically, and Sirius wonders at his luck.
“What?” Says Lupin agitatedly, as he finally stands to his feet. He doesn’t seem to be waiting for an answer though, and he sinks his hands in his brown hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He says, as kicks some of the empty boxes laying messily around the room. “How could I have mistaken him!”
Sirius giggles a bit (in a very manly way, of course), and Lupin turns to him with his teeth showing and red across his cheeks, as he points the pistol that had been dangling from his fingers through his childish tantrum to Sirius’ head. “Don’t you dare laugh, you arrogant filth!”
“I wasn’t,” says Sirius hurriedly, and he raises himself up, still on his knees. “but can I go now? I mean, now that you know I’m nothing but an innocent bystander?” Luck, luck, luck; that’s what Sirius is made of.
“Oh, and Captain,” Says the mousy man, who Sirius had almost forgotten. “Apparently Potter’s looking for his second in command, Honesty Black, or some crap like that. Ta!” And he’s gone, and Sirius scratches his last thought before putting his most charming smile on his face.
A slow, predatory smile appears on Lupin’s face, and Sirius involuntarily slouches, his smile faltering a bit. “So the stray seduction extraordinaire is worth something after all,” Lupin says slowly, and then adds as an afterthought, “and by the way, you can’t seduce for shit.”
“Ha ha bloody ha.” Sirius narrows his eyes, and he glares as Lupin puts his pistol back into his makeshift belt, and approaches the cage. “Don’t lie Lupin, you were all over me.”
“Yes well, I thought you were Potter, now didn’t I?” He says with a tilt of an eyebrow, a curl of his lip, and Sirius doesn’t know whether he should be pissed off as hell or aroused. “Anyway, I do hope you like your pretty little cage, as you’ll be staying quite a long time in it.”
“What?” It’s Sirius’ turn to be horrified, and he’s sure his expression makes that quite clear. “You can’t keep me here!”
“Yes I can, and I will.” Lupin steps closer, and Sirius finally stands up in order to glare into his eyes.
“No you won’t!”
For all response, Lupin grabs his chin and brings his mouth down on Sirius’s, hard and violently; bruising as Sirius kisses back with the surprise, his temples straining from the place the bars are cutting into his skin. But then he doesn’t care as Lupin’s tongue enters his mouth, as a tan hand goes around the bars and gets under his shirt (under his skin). And then as soon as it begins it ends, Lupin pulls back with that annoying smirk in place and Sirius wants his breath back, his dignity back; as he becomes aware he’s clinging to the wood for support, red faced and swollen lips.
“I needed a new sex pet anyways,” Lupin says just before he turns his back on Sirius and goes up the stairs, up into the sun with Sirius’ sanity right behind him.
Sirius curses until his throat is raw, kicking and punching until his knuckles bleed; but when night comes and Lupin comes along too, he wonders if maybe this isn’t such a bad thing after all.
But then James blasts a hole to the deck with a cannon in his heroic (or so he says) rescue, and well, his brain clears up a bit.
Until a few months later of course, when he starts a confusing game of kidnapper and victim (and a nasty case of Stockholm syndrome) in dark alleys with a certain brown haired pirate. As he takes a big swig to a bottle of rum, Remus’ body warm against him in a flea filled hotel by the coast, he decides he definitely is crazy; but he doesn’t mind too much after all.