Fic: R, "A Wild Child" Sirius/Kingsley
Title: A Wild Child
Author: red_day_dawning
Character pairing: Sirius/Kingsley
Prompt: One by one
Word count: ~1000
Rating: R
Warning/s: m/m sex
Summary: Despite being a man grown, and aged in Azkaban, Sirius Black is a wild child - a wild, willful passionate stormy child-man…
Author’s notes: written for rarepair_shorts, follows on from A Treasure Trove
Link to prompt table: http://red-day-dawning.livejournal.com/18707.html
Despite being a man grown, and aged in Azkaban, Sirius Black is a wild child - a wild, willful passionate stormy child-man. He is made up of the wildest elements, equal parts of bright sunlight and the fiercest storms. As black as the darkest storm clouds; as wild and electric as thunder and lightning; as intoxicating as the release of the fiercest rains pelting down. Kingsley can’t help but be drawn to the passion in him, his intensity, and his fierce capacity for surrender; the anger and the insane impulses and the sheer ferocity of him. And the brightness of Sirius, the enthusiasm, his fierce love and loyalty and capacity for unadulterated joy! When Sirius smiles, it’s like the sun rising, the first flames of dawn chasing the night away.
The man is more than a little crazy, Kingsley thinks, and then he calmly wonders if, perhaps, he has not become a little insane too - it seems to him that the times seem to demand a little insanity.
On his first night off, for far too long, Kingsley apparates straight to Grimmauld Place as soon as he leaves the Ministry. Logic tells him that he should be too tired and weary for this; his hardening cock and the steady pounding of his heart tell him otherwise.
He silently opens the wards and locks of the front door, and creeps past the portrait in the hall. Although the kitchen lights are lit, there is no sign of anyone downstairs. The whole house feels quiet and empty - ominously quiet and empty. Ruled now by concern, rather than his lustful longings, Kingsley searches the house floor by floor.
It is only when he reaches the top floor, where the hippogriff sleeps, that he finally finds Sirius. To his relief, he seems to be simply asleep, not caught in the quicksand of an Azkaban memory or lost in an alcohol haze.
Kingsley simply stands watching him for a while, silently. Asleep, Sirius seems small and slight, so much less substantial than he does awake, as though his energy and charisma make up part of his total volume. His dark hair is tangled over the dog collar around his throat, and his bath-robe has fallen open, and Kingsley can’t stop wondering if he is naked underneath.
~*~
Sirius wakes, suddenly certain he’s not alone. He opens his eyes, quickly orienting himself - ah, Buckbeak’s room, Kingsley standing in the doorway. Kingsley standing in the doorway?
Sleepily Sirius smiles up at Kingsley.
Kingsley smiles at him, “Come, Sirius,” he calls.
Sirius rolls over sleepily, and then gets to his feet, yawning unselfconsciously.
“Come downstairs.”
Instantly obedient, Sirius follows Kingsley downstairs to the library, still yawning sleepily. Kingsley sits in the red leather armchair next to the fireplace.
“Strip off your bath-robe.”
Sirius strips off his robe eagerly, his hardening cock is waking him faster than a strong cup of tea.
“Ah, good boy, I see you’ve been wearing your collar. Now, kneel in front of me.”
Sirius looks up at Kingsley, his eyes brightening but what he sees on the other man’s face.
“You know what to do.”
Sirius does know what to do, and deftly unfastens Kingsley’s trousers and grasps him.
“No hands,” warns Kingsley.
Taking him into his mouth, in and out and deeper still, Sirius thinks he loves this, he simply loves this.
He feels so safe and comforted and nurtured, wrapped in the security of Kingsley’s commands. He trusts Kingsley, he knows that by handing over control to Kingsley he will not accidently harm himself or anyone he cares about - Kingsley is in control.
Sirius thinks he could come from this alone, the glorious feel of Kingsley’s cock, the sensation of velvet covering hard steel, the sweet surges as Kingsley responds to the touch of his mouth and tongue.
“Stop,” Kingsley orders, his deep rich voice rumbling soothingly.
Kingsley stands up, pulling Sirius up with him. With a flick of his wand, he expands the sofa. He walks Sirius over to the sofa and pulls him down - it is now big enough for both of them to lie side by side, Kingsley’s head at one end, Sirius’s at the other.
“You know what to do.”
As Sirius slides his mouth over Kingsley’s erection, he feels Kingsley doing the same to him. Every sensation feels mirrored, doubled, multiplied and magnified, as though Sirius shared nerve endings with Kingsley. His voice muffled by Kingsley’s cock, Sirius calls out “Yes, oh yes” as Kingsley slides him deeper in, to the back of his throat, and the feel of Kingsley’s laugh rumbling around him sends him over the edge, to come into Kingsley’s mouth and throat.
As though this was just what he was waiting for, Kingsley thrusts deeper into Sirius’s mouth, his voice roaring out the violent intensity of his orgasm, his hands gently holding Sirius’s head, his cock pulsing in rhythm with Sirius’s own.
Oh yes, Sirius loves this.
~*~
Trying to catch his breath, Kingsley strokes Sirius’s hair, whispering soothing endearments. The words themselves are meaningless, a jumble of ‘good boys’ and ‘darlings’ and ‘beautiful’; and Kingsley can hardly breath for the feelings swelling in his chest, in his heart.
One by one, Kingsley’s habitual defenses have melted away - his calm, imperturbable demeanor, his insistence on being in control, his practice of distant and impersonal caring - they have all dissolved, unable to withstand the relentless onslaught that is Sirius. Sirius, with all his stormy passions, his sunny brightness and warm affection, his anger and excessive drinking and the dark descents into the depths of Azkaban-memories, his limitless capacity for joy and his willingness, his ferocity and his vulnerability, has performed an alchemical reaction that Kingsley can neither withstand nor resist.
Kingsley has fallen in love with Sirius Black.
Author: red_day_dawning
Character pairing: Sirius/Kingsley
Prompt: One by one
Word count: ~1000
Rating: R
Warning/s: m/m sex
Summary: Despite being a man grown, and aged in Azkaban, Sirius Black is a wild child - a wild, willful passionate stormy child-man…
Author’s notes: written for rarepair_shorts, follows on from A Treasure Trove
Link to prompt table: http://red-day-dawning.livejournal.com/18707.html
Despite being a man grown, and aged in Azkaban, Sirius Black is a wild child - a wild, willful passionate stormy child-man. He is made up of the wildest elements, equal parts of bright sunlight and the fiercest storms. As black as the darkest storm clouds; as wild and electric as thunder and lightning; as intoxicating as the release of the fiercest rains pelting down. Kingsley can’t help but be drawn to the passion in him, his intensity, and his fierce capacity for surrender; the anger and the insane impulses and the sheer ferocity of him. And the brightness of Sirius, the enthusiasm, his fierce love and loyalty and capacity for unadulterated joy! When Sirius smiles, it’s like the sun rising, the first flames of dawn chasing the night away.
The man is more than a little crazy, Kingsley thinks, and then he calmly wonders if, perhaps, he has not become a little insane too - it seems to him that the times seem to demand a little insanity.
On his first night off, for far too long, Kingsley apparates straight to Grimmauld Place as soon as he leaves the Ministry. Logic tells him that he should be too tired and weary for this; his hardening cock and the steady pounding of his heart tell him otherwise.
He silently opens the wards and locks of the front door, and creeps past the portrait in the hall. Although the kitchen lights are lit, there is no sign of anyone downstairs. The whole house feels quiet and empty - ominously quiet and empty. Ruled now by concern, rather than his lustful longings, Kingsley searches the house floor by floor.
It is only when he reaches the top floor, where the hippogriff sleeps, that he finally finds Sirius. To his relief, he seems to be simply asleep, not caught in the quicksand of an Azkaban memory or lost in an alcohol haze.
Kingsley simply stands watching him for a while, silently. Asleep, Sirius seems small and slight, so much less substantial than he does awake, as though his energy and charisma make up part of his total volume. His dark hair is tangled over the dog collar around his throat, and his bath-robe has fallen open, and Kingsley can’t stop wondering if he is naked underneath.
~*~
Sirius wakes, suddenly certain he’s not alone. He opens his eyes, quickly orienting himself - ah, Buckbeak’s room, Kingsley standing in the doorway. Kingsley standing in the doorway?
Sleepily Sirius smiles up at Kingsley.
Kingsley smiles at him, “Come, Sirius,” he calls.
Sirius rolls over sleepily, and then gets to his feet, yawning unselfconsciously.
“Come downstairs.”
Instantly obedient, Sirius follows Kingsley downstairs to the library, still yawning sleepily. Kingsley sits in the red leather armchair next to the fireplace.
“Strip off your bath-robe.”
Sirius strips off his robe eagerly, his hardening cock is waking him faster than a strong cup of tea.
“Ah, good boy, I see you’ve been wearing your collar. Now, kneel in front of me.”
Sirius looks up at Kingsley, his eyes brightening but what he sees on the other man’s face.
“You know what to do.”
Sirius does know what to do, and deftly unfastens Kingsley’s trousers and grasps him.
“No hands,” warns Kingsley.
Taking him into his mouth, in and out and deeper still, Sirius thinks he loves this, he simply loves this.
He feels so safe and comforted and nurtured, wrapped in the security of Kingsley’s commands. He trusts Kingsley, he knows that by handing over control to Kingsley he will not accidently harm himself or anyone he cares about - Kingsley is in control.
Sirius thinks he could come from this alone, the glorious feel of Kingsley’s cock, the sensation of velvet covering hard steel, the sweet surges as Kingsley responds to the touch of his mouth and tongue.
“Stop,” Kingsley orders, his deep rich voice rumbling soothingly.
Kingsley stands up, pulling Sirius up with him. With a flick of his wand, he expands the sofa. He walks Sirius over to the sofa and pulls him down - it is now big enough for both of them to lie side by side, Kingsley’s head at one end, Sirius’s at the other.
“You know what to do.”
As Sirius slides his mouth over Kingsley’s erection, he feels Kingsley doing the same to him. Every sensation feels mirrored, doubled, multiplied and magnified, as though Sirius shared nerve endings with Kingsley. His voice muffled by Kingsley’s cock, Sirius calls out “Yes, oh yes” as Kingsley slides him deeper in, to the back of his throat, and the feel of Kingsley’s laugh rumbling around him sends him over the edge, to come into Kingsley’s mouth and throat.
As though this was just what he was waiting for, Kingsley thrusts deeper into Sirius’s mouth, his voice roaring out the violent intensity of his orgasm, his hands gently holding Sirius’s head, his cock pulsing in rhythm with Sirius’s own.
Oh yes, Sirius loves this.
~*~
Trying to catch his breath, Kingsley strokes Sirius’s hair, whispering soothing endearments. The words themselves are meaningless, a jumble of ‘good boys’ and ‘darlings’ and ‘beautiful’; and Kingsley can hardly breath for the feelings swelling in his chest, in his heart.
One by one, Kingsley’s habitual defenses have melted away - his calm, imperturbable demeanor, his insistence on being in control, his practice of distant and impersonal caring - they have all dissolved, unable to withstand the relentless onslaught that is Sirius. Sirius, with all his stormy passions, his sunny brightness and warm affection, his anger and excessive drinking and the dark descents into the depths of Azkaban-memories, his limitless capacity for joy and his willingness, his ferocity and his vulnerability, has performed an alchemical reaction that Kingsley can neither withstand nor resist.
Kingsley has fallen in love with Sirius Black.