Title: Your Deepest Desire
Pairing: Remus/his right hand (Remus/Severus implied)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1578
Summary: Remus isn't sure what he really wants, until he sees it.
Note: this was originally written for the Howl-O-Ween challenge on
pervy_werewolf. The prompt was "the witching hour."
Halloween, 1984
"What's your fancy, love?"
Remus batted cigarette smoke from his face. The drag queen chuckled and inhaled deeply. An artfully teased platinum blonde lock of wig fell past a perfectly rouged cheek.
"Not that, I guess." A long finger brushed against his cheek. Remus shivered at the delicate touch of a glossy artificial nail on his skin. "It must be your first time."
"You could put it that way." It was Muggle Night at The Witching Hour, and that meant Muggle music, Muggle drinks, and tellies charmed to work despite the magic crackling in the air. Remus settled back on the bar stool. "What's on the menu? I haven't been here in ages - "
"Oh, honey. You'll have to do better than that." The drag queen's eyes were a very light blue, almost as clear as spell-light. Remus blinked as they locked on him for a moment, and he shook his head to clear it. "I know all the customers. You've never been here in your life."
The whisky and water wasn't nearly diluted enough. Remus drained the glass anyway. "And if I haven't?"
"No problem at all. Everyone comes here, you know. You shouldn't have any trouble finding what you want." Another chuckle, and she settled onto the bar stool beside him in a swish of taffeta. "Unless you're not sure."
His throat burned slightly from the alcohol. "I'm never sure about anything, sir - miss - "
"Just call me Maggie Mae." She pulled out another cigarette and carefully placed it in a celluloid holder that had yellowed with age. "There's no reason to be ashamed. It's confusing at first." She gracefully turned one gloved wrist toward the dance floor. The scent of sweat and arousal and the occasional whiff of disease had begun to rise toward the bar. "You're better playing it safe if you aren't sure what you want."
A freakishly pale man with dyed black hair moussed to sweep back in a six inch pompadour was in the center of the dance floor, his leather jacket almost falling off his shoulders as he ground against an imaginary partner. The dancer had smeared kohl on his eyelids and slashed wine-dark lipstick onto his mouth, and his sleeveless vest had ridden up enough to bare a flat, hard-muscled belly. Remus shifted and reached inside his trousers to arrange himself between the zipper and his stomach.
- black-rimmed eyes staring up at him as those red, red lips engulfed his cock, swallowed him down, left long wet stains down his length as he thrust and buried his hands in the stiffened hair and poured himself down the long pale throat -
"Here." A surprisingly strong hand pulled him away from the bar before he could pull down his trousers and bring himself off right there, in full view of half the gay wizards in Britain. "He's taken, love, but if he's what you want - "
"I don't - " Remus stumbled over the threshold of a room that was all plush, from a conversation pit in soft rich velvet to a pile of richly stuffed cushions along one wall. He'd barely managed to pay for one drink. How could he possibly afford whatever one did in this room? "Really, don't bother, I'm fine."
"Honey, the one thing you are not is fine." She pushed him down onto a second pile of cushions, these dark and soft and with enough give that it was almost impossible not to recline. "I like you, I really do, and I want you to come back some day. But not until you know what you want. I don't do this for everyone, but - "
She drew a complicated pattern in the air with a slender wand in some pale wood he'd never seen. Her voice had dropped to a soft baritone as she incanted. The conversation pit shimmered and filled with swirling iridescence that shifted from rose to mint green to ice blue to silver to palest gold.
"On the house, love. I hope it helps." She sounded like a woman again, but no woman had ever smiled like that. "Take as much time as you need."
The air seemed to thicken as she exited the room and the privacy spells clicked into place. Remus sucked in a deep breath as his clothes seemed to melt away. A black glass bottle of something slick and spicy floated into his right hand, and for a moment he could hear that almost-female voice whispering in his ear -
Whatever you want, honey. Relax and let it happen.
"What the hell. It's free, she said." Remus poured the lubricant into his palm and began stroking himself. He'd been half-hard anyway, and it was bare seconds before his cock had firmed up against his stomach. He spread his legs and began stroking himself, slowly moving his hand up and down as the lubricant warmed to body temperature and thinned out.
Two figures materialized from the rainbow mist. At first Remus thought one was the black haired dancer, but the hair was softer and longer, falling back in a thick sweep from its owner's shoulders. He was tall and lean, with sharp bones and strong hands, and his cock was long and just thick enough -
Remus shuddered. He hadn't done that yet, hadn't dared go farther than a blow job or some frottage in the corners. He could smell AIDS in a man's sweat, but what if he'd just showered? Or had something else that didn't taint the blood? Or somehow knew Remus was a werewolf?
The second man came into focus. He was shorter and broader through the chest, and Remus went cold as he recognized his own face and body: bite scars on the shoulder, lines from Moony clawing himself across the torso and legs, fingers slightly thick in the joints. There was less gray in the hair, and his eyes were soft and clear as he stepped into the dark man's arms, but -
They kissed as if they'd known each other for years, groaning and rubbing against each other as the dark man buried his fingers in shaggy brown hair and began biting and kissing at everything he could reach. Remus moaned as long, almost feminine fingers pressed between his other self's buttocks and began working their way inside. He could almost feel it, the burning that felt so good, sparks flaring across his vision -
That red, red mouth moved down other-Remus's body, lip prints standing out like bloodstains on his throat and nipples and belly. Both selves screamed as the dark man began sucking and humming about his cock, and it was all Remus could do not to come. The lube on his cock was so warm and so wet and perfect, so perfect -
His other self pulled back suddenly, face flushed, hair tangled and sweaty. He turned and spread his legs, and with a whispered lubrio the dark man had pushed inside him, face pressed against his neck, eyes closing in pleasure. Remus arched his back - is that what it felt like? A lean body sliding against his back, one beautiful hand wrapped about his erection, the other holding him upright as a deep voice whispered gorgeous, filthy things into his hair, a perfectly sized cock filling him and fucking him and claiming him -
Why am I waiting - beautiful - want it - want him - oh God yes, yes, please -
The lovers climaxed, other-Remus spurting over those wonderful fingers, the dark lover groaning and stiffening as he came in quick, hard pulses. Remus thrashed and clawed at the pillows with his free hand as he rode out his own orgasm. The soft upholstery was sticky and hot with semen, and Remus felt almost hollow as he realized he was alone.
A damp, coarse Turkish towel nudged at his hand, and he slowly cleaned himself before the semen coagulated on his skin. He could still feel the dark man's breath in his hair as he rolled over and pushed himself to his feet. His clothes were neatly folded, and floating in midair so he could dress in comfort.
"So that's what I want." The thin face had been almost familiar, so close he wondered how deeply the spell had gone into his fantasies. It had been too lean for Sirius, even if Sirius hadn't turned on them in the end - one of his friends from America? Someone he barely knew? The dancer? Someone else?
His clothing felt coarse and tight as he dressed and raked his fingers through his hair. He could just make out the pounding beat of a disco remix through the walls. The black-haired dancer would be out there, gorgeous and off-limits and -
He's not the only one. Half the men out there were dark.
Boldness, boldness, and ever more boldness. Be a Gryffindor for once.
Remus lifted his fingers to his lips and breathed deep of his own scent. There was only one way to find out if fantasy matched reality. He squared his shoulder, checked to make sure that his one condom was in place, and walked out the door.