FIC: "Under a Quarter Moon"
A ficlet for wildestranger who spoils me and likes to scream PORN! at me early in the morning... and late a night. And all times in between. Well, when she isn't calling me a Floozy.
Title:"Under a Quarter Moon"
Author: pre_raphaelite1
Pairing: Remus/Blaise
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Kinks: Tonks
Disclaimer: The HP universe belongs to one very canny woman who shall remain JK Rowling. All I have are piles of shiny fabric, stacks of scribbled-in books, and my animals (husband included).
Remus didn’t understand Blaise Zabini. He didn’t understand what his motivations were, where his priorities lay, or even which side he was on.
Remus knew Blaise had a… well a something with Draco Malfoy, whatever that may be. He had seen the way that Draco looked at Blaise when he thought no one was looking, the heated gaze, the desperation. And the way Blaise looked back, cool, confident, in charge. But what did this mean when the war broke out? Was Blaise caught up in Draco’s twisted web of lies, deceit, murder? Or had he some how extricated himself from it?
No. Remus didn’t understand Blaise Zabini. But he did understand the looks the boy sent him when he, under Order business, came back to Hogwarts. The intent stares that lingered too long on Remus’ hands. The smirks that offered everything and nothing. The casual glances that Remus caught and held. These Remus understood.
So it was no surprise when Blaise followed him out of the castle one night. Remus had left Tonks behind, frustrated with her fawning attentions and her inability to understand, and gone to stand at the edge of the lake, looking at the silver ripples of the water under the quarter moon.
The boy was silent. Remus would give him that. He materialized out of the shadow of a pine tree, a shadow which lingered like fog along the crisp edges of Blaise’s robes.
“You shouldn’t be out after sundown, Mr. Zabini.” Remus spoke without turning.
“Blaise. Please. Per my mother's insistence, there have been far too many Mr. Zabinis about recently. And I dislike the mortality of the name.” His voice was smooth, elegant, haughty. So like… No. He wasn’t going to think about him.
“Blaise then. But you still shouldn’t be here.” Remus risked a look at the boy. Too close, too casual.
“I’ll go if you want me to. But you looked like you could use some company, some male company.” He shrugged carelessly as though it really didn’t matter one way or the other. But then, he had come out here.
"Stay." Remus saw the corner of Blaise's mouth turn up at his command. "I'll escort you in."
"Later."
"Later," Remus agreed.
*
His thighs spread like liquid silk under Remus’ faltering hands, damaged hands that trembled too much. Hands that were suddenly twined in darkness when Blaise placed his own hands atop Remus’ and smiled. “I won’t break.”
But I will, Remus thought. But it was enough to drive the hesitation from his hands. He gripped Blaise under his hips, lifted him up. He leaned forward, his cock bumping and sliding along the cleft of Blaise’s arse. He adjusted his grip, sliding one arm under the boy’s hips, freeing his left hand. It gripped his cock and angled it against the spell-slick pucker. He pressed slowly, concentrating on control, caution, restraint.
However, Blaise had other intentions. Remus should have known. As soon as the head of Remus’ cock had breached that tight clench of muscle, Blaise thrust down. With a loud groan that could have been either of them or both, Remus’ cock was suddenly buried deep in constricting heat. His eyes flew to the boy’s face, searching for that sign of pain or fear he dreaded. But all he saw was desire and knowledge and acceptance.
Remus pulled back then thrust in again, eyes never leaving the elegant face. It shuddered before him, lips parted into a moan, black eyes demanding more. Remus jerked Blaise’s hips further off the ground then started a vicious rhythm, harder, faster. Each plunge of his cock into that tight arse was met with an equally hungry keen that seemed to swirl up from Blaise's coffee-coloured skin. The boy wrapped his unmarked arms behind his knees and pulled his legs to his bare chest, curling further up, taking Remus impossibly deeper. Remus growled as his balls slapped relentlessly against the taut body beneath him. His fingers curled into skin and sinew and bone; everything that Blaise offered, he took.
*
As he met the flickering colours of Tonks’ eyes, Remus realised that he understood Blaise Zabini far more than Tonks could ever understand him. She must have realised it too, for she turned away from them, hair fading to black in the moonlight, before flashing to green as Remus cried his release.
Feedback is always loved and occasionally snogged. And more if you can give me a better title?
Title:"Under a Quarter Moon"
Author: pre_raphaelite1
Pairing: Remus/Blaise
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Kinks: Tonks
Disclaimer: The HP universe belongs to one very canny woman who shall remain JK Rowling. All I have are piles of shiny fabric, stacks of scribbled-in books, and my animals (husband included).
Remus didn’t understand Blaise Zabini. He didn’t understand what his motivations were, where his priorities lay, or even which side he was on.
Remus knew Blaise had a… well a something with Draco Malfoy, whatever that may be. He had seen the way that Draco looked at Blaise when he thought no one was looking, the heated gaze, the desperation. And the way Blaise looked back, cool, confident, in charge. But what did this mean when the war broke out? Was Blaise caught up in Draco’s twisted web of lies, deceit, murder? Or had he some how extricated himself from it?
No. Remus didn’t understand Blaise Zabini. But he did understand the looks the boy sent him when he, under Order business, came back to Hogwarts. The intent stares that lingered too long on Remus’ hands. The smirks that offered everything and nothing. The casual glances that Remus caught and held. These Remus understood.
So it was no surprise when Blaise followed him out of the castle one night. Remus had left Tonks behind, frustrated with her fawning attentions and her inability to understand, and gone to stand at the edge of the lake, looking at the silver ripples of the water under the quarter moon.
The boy was silent. Remus would give him that. He materialized out of the shadow of a pine tree, a shadow which lingered like fog along the crisp edges of Blaise’s robes.
“You shouldn’t be out after sundown, Mr. Zabini.” Remus spoke without turning.
“Blaise. Please. Per my mother's insistence, there have been far too many Mr. Zabinis about recently. And I dislike the mortality of the name.” His voice was smooth, elegant, haughty. So like… No. He wasn’t going to think about him.
“Blaise then. But you still shouldn’t be here.” Remus risked a look at the boy. Too close, too casual.
“I’ll go if you want me to. But you looked like you could use some company, some male company.” He shrugged carelessly as though it really didn’t matter one way or the other. But then, he had come out here.
"Stay." Remus saw the corner of Blaise's mouth turn up at his command. "I'll escort you in."
"Later."
"Later," Remus agreed.
*
His thighs spread like liquid silk under Remus’ faltering hands, damaged hands that trembled too much. Hands that were suddenly twined in darkness when Blaise placed his own hands atop Remus’ and smiled. “I won’t break.”
But I will, Remus thought. But it was enough to drive the hesitation from his hands. He gripped Blaise under his hips, lifted him up. He leaned forward, his cock bumping and sliding along the cleft of Blaise’s arse. He adjusted his grip, sliding one arm under the boy’s hips, freeing his left hand. It gripped his cock and angled it against the spell-slick pucker. He pressed slowly, concentrating on control, caution, restraint.
However, Blaise had other intentions. Remus should have known. As soon as the head of Remus’ cock had breached that tight clench of muscle, Blaise thrust down. With a loud groan that could have been either of them or both, Remus’ cock was suddenly buried deep in constricting heat. His eyes flew to the boy’s face, searching for that sign of pain or fear he dreaded. But all he saw was desire and knowledge and acceptance.
Remus pulled back then thrust in again, eyes never leaving the elegant face. It shuddered before him, lips parted into a moan, black eyes demanding more. Remus jerked Blaise’s hips further off the ground then started a vicious rhythm, harder, faster. Each plunge of his cock into that tight arse was met with an equally hungry keen that seemed to swirl up from Blaise's coffee-coloured skin. The boy wrapped his unmarked arms behind his knees and pulled his legs to his bare chest, curling further up, taking Remus impossibly deeper. Remus growled as his balls slapped relentlessly against the taut body beneath him. His fingers curled into skin and sinew and bone; everything that Blaise offered, he took.
*
As he met the flickering colours of Tonks’ eyes, Remus realised that he understood Blaise Zabini far more than Tonks could ever understand him. She must have realised it too, for she turned away from them, hair fading to black in the moonlight, before flashing to green as Remus cried his release.
Feedback is always loved and occasionally snogged. And more if you can give me a better title?