To the lascivious pleasing of a lute (blanketforts Day 27
Title: To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them.
Wordcount: 2417
Prompt: permafrost
Notes: Um, hello. Long time no see. Um. Sorry. *is feeling very sheepish* I will finish this before wellymuck starts, promise. A lead in the Radcliffe case, and the boys finally get some time together. Title from Richard III.
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“So neither the body you’ve got or the dental remains from the fire match Yarwood, then?” James asked, flicking through his notes. “Is that useful?”
“Not really,” Remus said. “It could just mean we didn’t find his teeth.”
“Guess we know what we’re going to be sifting through the ashes for, then,” Sirius said gloomily, trying to read over James’ shoulder. “Your handwriting’s crap.”
“Fuck off,” James said absently, pausing over a page. “I can read it.”
“Why don’t you write Lily a letter about mustard?” Sirius asked. “It’ll probably come out as will you-”
“Remus, shut him up.”
“I’m not involved. Fuck, it’s cold.”
“Snow’s gone,” Sirius said, looking around. There was still slush in the shadow of the broken walls. Elsewhere the ground was wet and cold, ashes mixed with mud. Moody and Ted were standing in the shadow of the wall, talking quietly.
“About time,” James said. “I want to see my bloody garden now I’ve got one. Hang on, can you hear a car?”
He could, an engine growling as it grew closer.
“Landrover,” Remus said and raised his voice, “Tonks! Muggle company!”
“Get Potter to deal with it. He’s the Obliviator.”
James put his hand above his eyes, squinting through the winter sunlight as the green landrover came rocking up the drive. “It’s the farmwife,” he said.
“Talk to her, then, you wanker,” Sirius growled, shoving his hands into his pockets. Too fucking cold. Were there even any hills between here and Siberia? He’d freeze solid soon, and then they’d all be sorry.
“Tut, tut,” James said. “Be a good dog, and Remus might put you on the leash later.”
“Piss off, Prongs,” Remus said half-heartedly, and Sirius felt warmer.
James was already jogging away. Remus looked after him and shivered. “Poor woman.”
Sirius didn’t want to think about families and war and who might survive the inevitable. “Yeah.”
It was the first time he’d had a chance to be alone with Remus today. He felt oddly self-conscious. Bugger it, Moony had finally turned him into a girl.
He hunched his shoulders and asked, “How’s your dad, then? Good evening last night?”
“He’s fine,” Remus said, looking puzzled. “Busy. He’s using the money I send home to pay a girl to come in and do the cleaning. Makes it easier.”
“Right,” Sirius said, his shoulders relaxing. That meant Remus didn’t need to live at home. One more excuse demolished.
“He reckons the Floo will be running on Monday,” Remus added.
“Oh,” Sirius said miserably, and tried to think of a way to permanently disable the Floo at Bognor station. There must be something he could burn…
“Told him it didn’t matter,” said Remus.
“Eh?” Sirius was startled out of a particularly detailed plan to pin Bella’s corpse to the grid.
Remus was looking down, fiddling with one of the toggles on his duffel coat. The tip of his nose was pink, but his tone was perfectly reasonable as he said, “Well, I live with you now, don’t I?”
Sirius opened his mouth and then shut it. Then he grinned, too delighted to speak.
“Sirus! Remus!” James called, sounding grim. “Get the others!”
Sirius exchanged a startled glance with Remus, who nodded and set off after Ted and Moody. Sirius loped over to James.
“I remember you,” the woman said hoarsely, leaning out of the car to squint at him. “You found Stevie. Poor little Stevie. What have you done with him, eh?”
“He’s back at school,” Sirius said. “There’s a lot of people looking after him.”
“About bloody time,” the woman said. “Too little, too late. None of you ever worried about him before, did you? None of you.”
“We hoped he would be safe with his father,” Ted said quietly behind them. “We were all devastated to be wrong.”
“His father,” she echoed, and spat on the ground. “You think young Stevie was safe with that man?”
The quality of the silence changed. Sirius felt as if the whole world was listening.
“I never let my boys be alone with him. I’d have had the whole lot of them out if he’d been here often, but Ruth and the boys were good folk. Poor Ruth.” She choked. “Gone. Gone, like my boys.”
James put his hand over hers. “I’m sorry, Mrs Forbes. We’re here to stop them hurting anyone else’s family. What can you tell us about Jack Yarwood?”
“He was a bad man,” she said flatly. “A bad, bad man. They were scared of him, his boys. Terrified to be near him. And Ruth - she didn’t say much, but she said enough. Too scared to leave him, poor thing.”
“Jack Yarwood,” Ted said, sounding stunned.
The woman shuddered. “Damn him. Damn him. My boys - my boys are dead because of the likes of him.” She pounded her fist against the edge of the window. “Damn him.”
James jerked his head at them and they retreated.
“Jack Yarwood,” Ted said again, his voice turning grim. “I knew him at school.”
“Even Grindelwald was a boy once,” Moody growled. “Well, Lupin, what did we learn?”
“Steven knew enough to be scared of his dad,” Remus said promptly. “Which means we need to talk to him again.”
“Correction,” Moody snapped. “You need to talk to him. Tonks and I can follow up the London end of things. You two get your arses up to Scotland. Ministry only pays for standing tickets so don’t even try it, Black.”
“Blacks always travel first class,” Sirius said loftily.
“Not when the ministry’s paying, they don’t,” Ted said, his voice still strained.
The landrover’s engine roared back into life, and James walked back over, his face sober.
“I charmed her,” he said shortly. “She’ll get home safely.”
“Well done,” Ted said, and shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to gaze out towards the sea.
“Anything more to do here?” James asked.
“No,” Moody said. “Get home.”
“We’ll see you and Lily for dinner tomorrow, right?” Ted said with a forced cheerfulness.
James nodded, trying to smile. “Looking forward to it. We really appreciate the invitation.”
“Thank Andie tomorrow,” Ted said. “I’ll see you two on Monday. Sooner if the kid tells you something urgent.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. He was more worried about catching Remus before he vanished back to Bognor. Except Remus had said…
Trying to be subtle, he muttered, “You coming to London?”
“I think so,” Remus said. “We need to talk.”
“Hah,” James said. “Wormtail owes me.”
Moody was glaring at them. “What’s the date?”
“Twenty-seventh,” Ted said, and added, with a touch of malice. “You’re behind the times, Alastor. Frank won the whole lot yesterday.”
“Whole lot of what?” Sirius demanded, as Remus spluttered and protested, “You ran a sweepstake?”
“Nobody asked me to join,” James protested.
“Wrong floor, mate,” Ted said, smirking. “Lily had the twenty-ninth.”
Sirius opened his mouth to express his opinion of all this, but Remus grabbed his wrist and said firmly, “Later, Sirius. It’s time to go home.”
He knew there was a stupid smile on his face. Their smirks confirmed it. He ignored them with the last of his dignity and said to Remus, “Apparate when you’re ready.”
Moments later, they were in his living room. He’d left the lights on this morning, and the room felt scorching hot. He reached up to pull his scarf off.
Remus backed him into a bookcase.
Sirius, his hands still tangled in wool and tassles, didn’t have time to protest before Remus’ mouth was on his, hot and urgent. Heat surged through him, and he moaned, fighting to free his hands.
Remus shoved forward, until books tumbled down around them and Sirius could feel the lines of the shelves pressing into his back. He lifted his hands helplessly, and gasped at how the motion pushed him forward against Remus. Giving in, he tipped his head backwards and rolled his hips forward, riding Remus’ thigh.
They were home, home safe. No one could stop them. No one could find them. They had all the time in the world and neither of them was running anymore.
Remus was moaning into his kiss, a series of breathy little cries that made Sirius never want to stop. He wanted to wrap his arms around Remus and never let go again, but he couldn’t because his hands, his hands were still trapped.
He was so hot. He had to get rid of his coat, his scarf, anything, everything. If he did that, he would be able to feel Remus.
He wasn’t going to pull his mouth away to say so, so he pressed his hips forward and hoped Remus would take the hint.
He was rewarded with a muffled curse, and Remus jerked away, fumbling with the toggles of his coat.
“Hands!” Sirius gasped, leaning forward. Remus’ cheeks were flushed, and he could see each jerky breath as it rushed out of him.
He saw Remus consider it, a line appearing between his brows.
Sirius scrabbled at the scarf, jerking one hand free before Remus could concoct some devious plan that would leave him utterly helpless. A quick shake had the scarf dropping onto the pile of books, and he shoved his hands inside Remus’ coat. Remus’ old jumper was soft and rough with nubs of wool, and Sirius sighed and slid his hands round and down and under, until his palms pressed against soft skin and smooth, hard scars.
Remus tipped his head back and shrugged his coat off, fumbling for the zip on Sirius’ jacket.
Sirius pushed at him, shoving away from the shelves. As they stumbled backwards, he brought his hands up, and his jacket and Remus’ jumper went flying, sleeves tangled. Another jerk had Remus’ shirt off too, and Sirius wrapped his arms around bare skin with a moan, and kissed him again.
Remus opened his mouth under his, warm and fierce. He tasted like tea and cornflakes, and smelt like wet duffel coat, and Sirius didn’t ever want to let go. Remus was pushing back at him, but Sirius had momentum on his side and he kept walking until they hit the back of the sofa. Remus swayed for balance, clutching at him wildly, and Sirius snorted with laughter, burying his face against Remus’ neck.
Remus thwapped his arm and tugged at his t-shirt. Their hands wound together pulling it off, and then Remus untangled his fingers to grab Sirius’ hips, pulling them together tightly. Sirius’ breath shuddered out of him as he felt the press of Remus’ erection against his.
He couldn’t stop himself from moaning, and choked on a curse. Too fast. Too fast. They had all the time in the world.
To try and stop himself from coming right now, he gasped, “I thought we were meant to be talking.”
“We are talking,” Remus said reasonably, his hands busy with Sirius’ fly. “Our mouths are open and words are coming out.”
“I think you’re missing the point,” Sirius said, and flung his head back as Remus’ hand closed gently round his cock. “Oh, fuck, Moony.”
“See. Mouth. Words.”
Sirius hooked his hand into Remus’ trousers to stop himself from flailing. He could feel heat beat through him, in time with the press of Remus’ hands.
“Fuck,” he gasped again. “Fuck me.”
Remus’ hand stilled, and he said hoarsely, “Now?”
“Please,” Sirius whimpered, his fingers clumsy as he tried to get Remus’ trousers off. Why the hell was he still wearing anything?
“Bed,” Remus said and stumbled forward, trying to drag Sirius’ jeans the rest of the way down.
They made it to the wall.
Sirius had managed to get rid of everything but one sock. Remus still had his trousers around his ankles and he tripped, stumbling into Sirius. Sirius caught himself on the wall, and Remus flattened himself against his back, his hand snaking round to stroke again.
Sirius moaned, beyond words, and rocked back. He could feel Remus pressed between the cheeks of his arse and it wasn’t enough. He wanted more.
Remus gasped a spell, and Sirius wailed as the magic prickled warmly through him, stretching, slicking. Remus’ hand stroked over his arse, fingers probing gently, and Sirius shook his head wildly.
“No,” he gasped. “You.”
Remus gasped something that was probably supposed to be words. Sirius ignored him to brace himself against the wall. He pushed backwards, demanding what he couldn’t shape words to describe.
Remus moaned, and buried his face against Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius hissed in triumph as he felt the hot nudge of Remus’ cock where his fingers had been.
“Is this?” Remus started, and Sirius pushed back onto him. It was going to be fast. It had to be fast.
“Pushy,” Remus murmured, on a gust of laughter and heat, and thrust forward, one hand pressing over Sirius’ until the rough plaster dug grooves in his palm.
“Oh!” Remus said, voice catching, and Sirius abandoned his last control, arching back between Remus’ warmth and the cold wall. Remus’ fingers were digging into his hip, and with every thrust he felt fire rush through him, until his eyes stung and his skin prickled with heat.
Remus was choking on his name, driving him against the wall. His hand crept round, and Sirius felt long fingers catch around his cock. The touch was enough to finish him, and he howled, and melted, coming in a rush.
By the time he could see again, Remus had collapsed limply against his back, his arms looped tightly around Sirius’ waist.
“Moony,” Sirius said. If there had been any strength left in his legs, he would have danced.
“Eh? Mmm.”
Sirius bit back a declaration to say, “Don’t go to sleep.”
“I’m not,” Remus said, rubbing his cheek against the back of Sirius’ neck. “I’m happy.”
Sirius squirmed round to face him, and yelped as his previously warm back hit the cold wall. Remus snorted, and kissed him, pressing him back against the wall until he wriggled free.
“Evil git,” Sirius said. “My evil git.”
Remus smiled at him, as if there were no such things as full moons and murderers, and began to walk them backwards. “Bed.”
“To talk?” Sirius asked, quickening his pace to shove them through the doorway.
Remus looked bewildered. “No.”
“Your sort of talking,” Sirius said, grinning open-mouthed. “The sort where you open your mouth and words come out.”
“Oh,” said Remus, his cheeks flushing again.
“Precisely,” Sirius said and toppled them both onto the waiting bed.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them.
Wordcount: 2417
Prompt: permafrost
Notes: Um, hello. Long time no see. Um. Sorry. *is feeling very sheepish* I will finish this before wellymuck starts, promise. A lead in the Radcliffe case, and the boys finally get some time together. Title from Richard III.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
“So neither the body you’ve got or the dental remains from the fire match Yarwood, then?” James asked, flicking through his notes. “Is that useful?”
“Not really,” Remus said. “It could just mean we didn’t find his teeth.”
“Guess we know what we’re going to be sifting through the ashes for, then,” Sirius said gloomily, trying to read over James’ shoulder. “Your handwriting’s crap.”
“Fuck off,” James said absently, pausing over a page. “I can read it.”
“Why don’t you write Lily a letter about mustard?” Sirius asked. “It’ll probably come out as will you-”
“Remus, shut him up.”
“I’m not involved. Fuck, it’s cold.”
“Snow’s gone,” Sirius said, looking around. There was still slush in the shadow of the broken walls. Elsewhere the ground was wet and cold, ashes mixed with mud. Moody and Ted were standing in the shadow of the wall, talking quietly.
“About time,” James said. “I want to see my bloody garden now I’ve got one. Hang on, can you hear a car?”
He could, an engine growling as it grew closer.
“Landrover,” Remus said and raised his voice, “Tonks! Muggle company!”
“Get Potter to deal with it. He’s the Obliviator.”
James put his hand above his eyes, squinting through the winter sunlight as the green landrover came rocking up the drive. “It’s the farmwife,” he said.
“Talk to her, then, you wanker,” Sirius growled, shoving his hands into his pockets. Too fucking cold. Were there even any hills between here and Siberia? He’d freeze solid soon, and then they’d all be sorry.
“Tut, tut,” James said. “Be a good dog, and Remus might put you on the leash later.”
“Piss off, Prongs,” Remus said half-heartedly, and Sirius felt warmer.
James was already jogging away. Remus looked after him and shivered. “Poor woman.”
Sirius didn’t want to think about families and war and who might survive the inevitable. “Yeah.”
It was the first time he’d had a chance to be alone with Remus today. He felt oddly self-conscious. Bugger it, Moony had finally turned him into a girl.
He hunched his shoulders and asked, “How’s your dad, then? Good evening last night?”
“He’s fine,” Remus said, looking puzzled. “Busy. He’s using the money I send home to pay a girl to come in and do the cleaning. Makes it easier.”
“Right,” Sirius said, his shoulders relaxing. That meant Remus didn’t need to live at home. One more excuse demolished.
“He reckons the Floo will be running on Monday,” Remus added.
“Oh,” Sirius said miserably, and tried to think of a way to permanently disable the Floo at Bognor station. There must be something he could burn…
“Told him it didn’t matter,” said Remus.
“Eh?” Sirius was startled out of a particularly detailed plan to pin Bella’s corpse to the grid.
Remus was looking down, fiddling with one of the toggles on his duffel coat. The tip of his nose was pink, but his tone was perfectly reasonable as he said, “Well, I live with you now, don’t I?”
Sirius opened his mouth and then shut it. Then he grinned, too delighted to speak.
“Sirus! Remus!” James called, sounding grim. “Get the others!”
Sirius exchanged a startled glance with Remus, who nodded and set off after Ted and Moody. Sirius loped over to James.
“I remember you,” the woman said hoarsely, leaning out of the car to squint at him. “You found Stevie. Poor little Stevie. What have you done with him, eh?”
“He’s back at school,” Sirius said. “There’s a lot of people looking after him.”
“About bloody time,” the woman said. “Too little, too late. None of you ever worried about him before, did you? None of you.”
“We hoped he would be safe with his father,” Ted said quietly behind them. “We were all devastated to be wrong.”
“His father,” she echoed, and spat on the ground. “You think young Stevie was safe with that man?”
The quality of the silence changed. Sirius felt as if the whole world was listening.
“I never let my boys be alone with him. I’d have had the whole lot of them out if he’d been here often, but Ruth and the boys were good folk. Poor Ruth.” She choked. “Gone. Gone, like my boys.”
James put his hand over hers. “I’m sorry, Mrs Forbes. We’re here to stop them hurting anyone else’s family. What can you tell us about Jack Yarwood?”
“He was a bad man,” she said flatly. “A bad, bad man. They were scared of him, his boys. Terrified to be near him. And Ruth - she didn’t say much, but she said enough. Too scared to leave him, poor thing.”
“Jack Yarwood,” Ted said, sounding stunned.
The woman shuddered. “Damn him. Damn him. My boys - my boys are dead because of the likes of him.” She pounded her fist against the edge of the window. “Damn him.”
James jerked his head at them and they retreated.
“Jack Yarwood,” Ted said again, his voice turning grim. “I knew him at school.”
“Even Grindelwald was a boy once,” Moody growled. “Well, Lupin, what did we learn?”
“Steven knew enough to be scared of his dad,” Remus said promptly. “Which means we need to talk to him again.”
“Correction,” Moody snapped. “You need to talk to him. Tonks and I can follow up the London end of things. You two get your arses up to Scotland. Ministry only pays for standing tickets so don’t even try it, Black.”
“Blacks always travel first class,” Sirius said loftily.
“Not when the ministry’s paying, they don’t,” Ted said, his voice still strained.
The landrover’s engine roared back into life, and James walked back over, his face sober.
“I charmed her,” he said shortly. “She’ll get home safely.”
“Well done,” Ted said, and shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to gaze out towards the sea.
“Anything more to do here?” James asked.
“No,” Moody said. “Get home.”
“We’ll see you and Lily for dinner tomorrow, right?” Ted said with a forced cheerfulness.
James nodded, trying to smile. “Looking forward to it. We really appreciate the invitation.”
“Thank Andie tomorrow,” Ted said. “I’ll see you two on Monday. Sooner if the kid tells you something urgent.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. He was more worried about catching Remus before he vanished back to Bognor. Except Remus had said…
Trying to be subtle, he muttered, “You coming to London?”
“I think so,” Remus said. “We need to talk.”
“Hah,” James said. “Wormtail owes me.”
Moody was glaring at them. “What’s the date?”
“Twenty-seventh,” Ted said, and added, with a touch of malice. “You’re behind the times, Alastor. Frank won the whole lot yesterday.”
“Whole lot of what?” Sirius demanded, as Remus spluttered and protested, “You ran a sweepstake?”
“Nobody asked me to join,” James protested.
“Wrong floor, mate,” Ted said, smirking. “Lily had the twenty-ninth.”
Sirius opened his mouth to express his opinion of all this, but Remus grabbed his wrist and said firmly, “Later, Sirius. It’s time to go home.”
He knew there was a stupid smile on his face. Their smirks confirmed it. He ignored them with the last of his dignity and said to Remus, “Apparate when you’re ready.”
Moments later, they were in his living room. He’d left the lights on this morning, and the room felt scorching hot. He reached up to pull his scarf off.
Remus backed him into a bookcase.
Sirius, his hands still tangled in wool and tassles, didn’t have time to protest before Remus’ mouth was on his, hot and urgent. Heat surged through him, and he moaned, fighting to free his hands.
Remus shoved forward, until books tumbled down around them and Sirius could feel the lines of the shelves pressing into his back. He lifted his hands helplessly, and gasped at how the motion pushed him forward against Remus. Giving in, he tipped his head backwards and rolled his hips forward, riding Remus’ thigh.
They were home, home safe. No one could stop them. No one could find them. They had all the time in the world and neither of them was running anymore.
Remus was moaning into his kiss, a series of breathy little cries that made Sirius never want to stop. He wanted to wrap his arms around Remus and never let go again, but he couldn’t because his hands, his hands were still trapped.
He was so hot. He had to get rid of his coat, his scarf, anything, everything. If he did that, he would be able to feel Remus.
He wasn’t going to pull his mouth away to say so, so he pressed his hips forward and hoped Remus would take the hint.
He was rewarded with a muffled curse, and Remus jerked away, fumbling with the toggles of his coat.
“Hands!” Sirius gasped, leaning forward. Remus’ cheeks were flushed, and he could see each jerky breath as it rushed out of him.
He saw Remus consider it, a line appearing between his brows.
Sirius scrabbled at the scarf, jerking one hand free before Remus could concoct some devious plan that would leave him utterly helpless. A quick shake had the scarf dropping onto the pile of books, and he shoved his hands inside Remus’ coat. Remus’ old jumper was soft and rough with nubs of wool, and Sirius sighed and slid his hands round and down and under, until his palms pressed against soft skin and smooth, hard scars.
Remus tipped his head back and shrugged his coat off, fumbling for the zip on Sirius’ jacket.
Sirius pushed at him, shoving away from the shelves. As they stumbled backwards, he brought his hands up, and his jacket and Remus’ jumper went flying, sleeves tangled. Another jerk had Remus’ shirt off too, and Sirius wrapped his arms around bare skin with a moan, and kissed him again.
Remus opened his mouth under his, warm and fierce. He tasted like tea and cornflakes, and smelt like wet duffel coat, and Sirius didn’t ever want to let go. Remus was pushing back at him, but Sirius had momentum on his side and he kept walking until they hit the back of the sofa. Remus swayed for balance, clutching at him wildly, and Sirius snorted with laughter, burying his face against Remus’ neck.
Remus thwapped his arm and tugged at his t-shirt. Their hands wound together pulling it off, and then Remus untangled his fingers to grab Sirius’ hips, pulling them together tightly. Sirius’ breath shuddered out of him as he felt the press of Remus’ erection against his.
He couldn’t stop himself from moaning, and choked on a curse. Too fast. Too fast. They had all the time in the world.
To try and stop himself from coming right now, he gasped, “I thought we were meant to be talking.”
“We are talking,” Remus said reasonably, his hands busy with Sirius’ fly. “Our mouths are open and words are coming out.”
“I think you’re missing the point,” Sirius said, and flung his head back as Remus’ hand closed gently round his cock. “Oh, fuck, Moony.”
“See. Mouth. Words.”
Sirius hooked his hand into Remus’ trousers to stop himself from flailing. He could feel heat beat through him, in time with the press of Remus’ hands.
“Fuck,” he gasped again. “Fuck me.”
Remus’ hand stilled, and he said hoarsely, “Now?”
“Please,” Sirius whimpered, his fingers clumsy as he tried to get Remus’ trousers off. Why the hell was he still wearing anything?
“Bed,” Remus said and stumbled forward, trying to drag Sirius’ jeans the rest of the way down.
They made it to the wall.
Sirius had managed to get rid of everything but one sock. Remus still had his trousers around his ankles and he tripped, stumbling into Sirius. Sirius caught himself on the wall, and Remus flattened himself against his back, his hand snaking round to stroke again.
Sirius moaned, beyond words, and rocked back. He could feel Remus pressed between the cheeks of his arse and it wasn’t enough. He wanted more.
Remus gasped a spell, and Sirius wailed as the magic prickled warmly through him, stretching, slicking. Remus’ hand stroked over his arse, fingers probing gently, and Sirius shook his head wildly.
“No,” he gasped. “You.”
Remus gasped something that was probably supposed to be words. Sirius ignored him to brace himself against the wall. He pushed backwards, demanding what he couldn’t shape words to describe.
Remus moaned, and buried his face against Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius hissed in triumph as he felt the hot nudge of Remus’ cock where his fingers had been.
“Is this?” Remus started, and Sirius pushed back onto him. It was going to be fast. It had to be fast.
“Pushy,” Remus murmured, on a gust of laughter and heat, and thrust forward, one hand pressing over Sirius’ until the rough plaster dug grooves in his palm.
“Oh!” Remus said, voice catching, and Sirius abandoned his last control, arching back between Remus’ warmth and the cold wall. Remus’ fingers were digging into his hip, and with every thrust he felt fire rush through him, until his eyes stung and his skin prickled with heat.
Remus was choking on his name, driving him against the wall. His hand crept round, and Sirius felt long fingers catch around his cock. The touch was enough to finish him, and he howled, and melted, coming in a rush.
By the time he could see again, Remus had collapsed limply against his back, his arms looped tightly around Sirius’ waist.
“Moony,” Sirius said. If there had been any strength left in his legs, he would have danced.
“Eh? Mmm.”
Sirius bit back a declaration to say, “Don’t go to sleep.”
“I’m not,” Remus said, rubbing his cheek against the back of Sirius’ neck. “I’m happy.”
Sirius squirmed round to face him, and yelped as his previously warm back hit the cold wall. Remus snorted, and kissed him, pressing him back against the wall until he wriggled free.
“Evil git,” Sirius said. “My evil git.”
Remus smiled at him, as if there were no such things as full moons and murderers, and began to walk them backwards. “Bed.”
“To talk?” Sirius asked, quickening his pace to shove them through the doorway.
Remus looked bewildered. “No.”
“Your sort of talking,” Sirius said, grinning open-mouthed. “The sort where you open your mouth and words come out.”
“Oh,” said Remus, his cheeks flushing again.
“Precisely,” Sirius said and toppled them both onto the waiting bed.