Tongue-Tied
Author: shaggydogstail
Title: Tongue-Tied
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/kinks: Surprise!rimming, buttsecks, soppiness.
Summary: Moony's tongue...his arse...what the hell?
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Author's Notes: For dreaminoflorien, who requested: The first time Remus talks Sirius - or perhaps doesn't talk him into and simply proceeds - into rimming.
'Do you want to try something different?'
Remus' voice is light, even casual, and it's not like Sirius isn't usually up for new experiences. But since they're both naked, sprawled out on Sirius' bed and dripping wet from a lively round of where's-the-soap? in the shower, 'something different' clearly doesn't mean a new drink, a fresh source of mischief-making or a law they haven't yet broken. It means a different way of having sex.
Which isn't a bad thing in itself - Sirius is all for variety and, after a rather shaky start, he's decided he likes sex very, very much - it's more that 'a different way of having sex' means something Remus knows all about and Sirius doesn't, and might well end up making a fool out of himself over. Again. Sirius is so used to being best at everything that it still disconcerts him that there's a whole arena in which Remus is way ahead of him. He doesn't like not knowing, and every time Remus pushes him to try something different it reminds him that he's woefully inexperienced and Remus, well, isn't.
Still, he's not about to admit to that, so he swallows the bubble of worry that floats up his chest and turns to Remus, grinning. 'What did you have in mind?'
Remus' grin in response is broader, wicked and predatory. He leans over Sirius, pushing him onto his back and runs his hand up Sirius' side, hip to shoulder. Sirius shivers under the attention, but can't escape the feeling that he's about to be eaten for dinner.
'I just want you to lie there,' says Remus, then presses a kiss to Sirius' shoulder, 'and relax' - another kiss to Sirius' neck - 'looking gorgeous' - his lips brush against Sirius' chest, making him wiggle in delight. Remus lifts his head and looks Sirius in the eye. 'You do, by the way, look supremely fuckable.'
'Ah.' Sirius is smart enough to know his ego's being stroked, but there's no getting away from the fact that he enjoys it. He tries not to preen or blush at the obvious flattery.
Remus just smiles and turns his attention back to Sirius' body, punctuating his words with kisses as he continues to talk. 'So you just lie back and think of England,' he continues, teeth nipping at Sirius' collar bone, 'while I kiss you. All over.'
Well, that sounds easy enough. Sirius is relieved that Remus isn't about to whip out some bizarre looking contraption and call it a 'sex toy' or ask him to attempt anything that Sirius isn't entirely sure is physically possible without the aid of some fairly advanced human transfiguration. Kissing is something he definitely feels comfortable with, and Sirius doesn't have any objections at all to Remus carrying on the way he's going.
Except...Remus is a Marauder, after all, and Sirius, for all he might be sexually naïve, wasn't born yesterday.
'What's in it for you?' he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he stares up at Remus.
There are teeth in Remus' grin this time, glinting and feral. 'Apart from the pleasure of getting to touch, and feel, and taste every inch of you,' he says, the warm, faux-innocent tone of his voice only serving to make him sound more dangerous, 'if I do it right, you'll to be begging me to fuck you by the time I'm finished.'
Ah. Well, that would be it then.
In all honesty, Sirius still isn't quite used to the whole fucking business. He can cope with it now, at least enough for Remus to take him without the whole thing turning into some hideously embarrassing disaster, which is certainly an improvement on their first time. Yet Sirius still feels there's something not quite right, and though it's got better each of the handful of times they've tried it, he keeps waiting for the final part to slot into place (metaphorically speaking) so he can start enjoying it properly without feeling anxious or self-conscious.
Remus is giving him that look, though, the one that says he wants to swallow Sirius whole, the one that leaves Sirius in no doubt at all just how much Remus wants him. The one that never fails to get Sirius to agree to whatever Remus asks of him, more than bravado or Sirius' own desire to save face, because there's nothing so intoxicating as being the object of such powerful, overwhelming lust.
Sirius smirks, and cocks an eyebrow. 'Go on then.'
Remus leans down and kisses Sirius briefly on the lips, gentle and sweet, and laughs softly as he swings one leg around to straddle Sirius' hips. The tip of his tongue glides over his upper lip, and his eyes wander over Sirius' torso, appraising him, drinking him in. There's an expression of quiet satisfaction on his face, and Sirius can almost hear him thinking, yes, you'll do nicely.
Remus' lips move slowly over Sirius' shoulder, murmuring words that Sirius can't quite hear, but that sound affectionate, in between kisses. He kisses Sirius' forearm, the crook of his elbow, the palm of his hand. His nose rubs against Sirius' skin as Remus kisses his belly, his chest, a higgledy-piggledy path up to the other shoulder and down his arm. Remus pecks a quick succession of butterfly kisses across Sirius' collarbone and whorls his tongue over Sirius' nipples, languid, wet and teasing.
The slow, steady progression of touches across his body is enough to distract Sirius from worrying about what happens next and whether or not he'll mess it up, and he's able to do as Remus instructed; lie back and relax. He arches under the sensations of Remus' mouth travelling across his skin, sighing contentedly as a lazy arousal builds up in him.
Remus goes lower, nipping at Sirius' pelvis and licking his hip. His breath is hot as he half-chuckles against Sirius' skin, then he moves down, kissing Sirius' thigh. Sirius knows he's being teased now, and he sucks in deep breaths of air, staring steadfastly at the ceiling, determined not to let Remus get the better of him.
It's becoming increasingly difficult for to keep his composure as Remus keeps on kissing, nibbling, and sucking on him, up the other leg now, and slower than ever. Sirius had been hard since - well, it seems like an awfully long time now - and he's moving past pleasantly turned-on into uncomfortably horny. Remus knows, the bastard, of course he does; how could he not, even without the unmistakable evidence of Sirius' straining erection right in front of his nose.
He's waiting for Sirius to ask, most likely, as he trails his lips up Sirius' leg and back up onto his belly. But Sirius won't - can't - ask, even now that he can feel the warmth of Remus' breath on his balls and he has to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from crying out. He knows that Remus would give him what he asked - he always does, so pleased when Sirius does ask - and he knows because Remus taught him how good it would feel. But the whole thing still strikes him as faintly ridiculous, and it just seems weird to ask a friend to put his mouth on your private parts. So Sirius wriggles, and tenses, turns a little pink, and says nothing.
Of course, Remus knows without being told, and so he moves, excruciatingly slowly towards Sirius' cock, still kissing every inch of skin as goes. Sirius shivers and fights to keep still when Remus' lips brush against his cock, kissing a steady trail up one side of the shaft and down the other, still with that maddening, methodical slowness. It occurs to Sirius that Remus is actually trying to kill him.
Remus looks up suddenly, still grinning like some evil sex-assassin, and pulls himself up to face Sirius.
'You know,' he says, voice low and faintly mocking, 'you don't seem very relaxed.'
Well, that settles it. Remus is definitely trying to torture him to death.
Sirius hisses and glares up at Remus. 'Tease.'
Remus doesn't look the least abashed. 'You love it,' he says, and he taps Sirius' shoulder. 'C'mon, roll over.'
Sirius considers arguing, or at least putting up some token resistance, but quickly decides it isn't worth it. He vaguely recalls a time when Moony used to go along with almost anything he wanted, albeit sometimes reluctantly, and can't quite work out what it is about Naked Time that makes Remus suddenly so assertive. In any case, he knows Remus always seems to get what he wants sooner or later, so it's easier all around if Sirius just does what he's told in the first place.
He rolls over with a petulant sigh, huffing like a bratty teenager. Remus just laughs at him, and slides onto Sirius' back. Sirius wants to be cross with him, he really does, but Remus is already kissing his neck and stroking his sides, and it just feels so good; warm and enticing, and he soon starts to unwind under Remus' touch.
Despite still being very, very turned on, Sirius does feel relaxed as Remus kisses his neck and shoulders, every bump on his spine and the back of his head. Remus' hands are all over him, fanning his back and sides, as Remus kisses his elbow, the back of his knee and his ankle.
Sirius sighs deeply and burrows his head into the pillow. The whole thing is pleasant and soothing, only just this side of erotic with just the right amount of comfortable intimacy. It's all going wonderfully well until...
...until something very wrong and strange happens.
Sirius lifts his head up suddenly, biting back a yelp of surprise. That can't really be...no, surely not? Moony's tongue...his arse...what the hell?
'Um.' It's not the most eloquent response, but then Sirius isn't exactly feeling eloquent. Somewhere between disbelieving and horrified would be more accurate.
Remus stops...whatever it is he's doing. 'Relax,' he says, the palm of his hand pressed warm and secure in the small of Sirius' back.
He stays like that for several moments, still and constant. Sirius lets his head fall back onto the pillow, somehow reassured by Remus' unmoving presence. He sucks in deep breaths of air, trying to force his breathing to return to normal. Relax.
There's nothing Remus has wanted him to do - cajoled, teased, or talked him into - that Sirius hasn't enjoyed so far, despite how absurd, uncomfortable, bizarre of just plain icky it may have seemed at first, Sirius reminds himself. He can trust Remus.
And then Remus' tongue is there again, wet and firm, and pushing up inside Sirius in quick, deft movements. Remus' hands are on his cheeks, gently prising him open, while his tongue darts back and forth; hot, fast and slippery. Sirius forces himself not to think, not to consider how weird it is to have someone's tongue stuck up his bottom, or worry about how distasteful the whole thing must be for Moony, and chases the sudden realisation that now would be a really bad time to break wind from his mind.
Instead, he concentrates on how it feels. And, actually, it feels sort of nice. In fact, the more Sirius relaxes the better it feels, and in a matter of moments he's twitching with pleasure each time Remus' tongue flits back and forth. Remus is making soft little 'mm-mm'ing sounds of pleasure, like he's really enjoying himself down there, and Sirius knows another layer of his inhibitions have fallen away when he finds himself pushing back onto Remus' face, wanton and unthinking, because as good as it feels (and it does feel very, very good) it just isn't enough.
And then Remus pulls back (the unspeakable, vile sadist), pauses just for a beat, and blows. Sirius gasps out loud, because sweet Merlin on a broomstick, it feels like a bolt of lightning up his spine.
'Fuck me,' says Sirius, not caring that this means Remus has been proven right (again) or about how easy he sounds, how needy and desperate. Damn it, he is needy and desperate, and for once he's ready to beg if he has to because if Remus doesn't fuck him right this instant he might actually die.
'You sure?' asks Remus, his voice a little hoarse, too constricted to sound triumphant.
For a moment Sirius thinks Remus really will make him beg for it, but then he feels the mattress shift as Remus reaches for the lube, and Sirius barely manages to choke out his demands - 'just get on with it' - before slick fingers slide into his arse.
It's not gentle and slow like the times they've done it before, when Remus had to negotiate his way into Sirius' body with deft stretching and digital diplomacy. Sirius can feel how eager Remus is, and that only makes him want it more; this time, there's no quiet creep of anxiety from the knowledge that he's about to get fucked good and proper, just the delicious heat of anticipation.
Remus doesn't make him wait long, and the deep, satisfied sigh he lets out as he pushes his cock inside Sirius is evidence enough that he's every bit as desperate for this as Sirius is. His fingers dig deep enough to bruise into Sirius' hips and he thrusts forwards, his movements jagged and erratic.
He's fucking Sirius slowly, jerky, and his breathing's loud and ragged. Most likely he's holding back, trying not to hurt Sirius or push him too far, but Sirius is sure that nothing can hurt him right now and he wouldn't even care if it did, so he pushes back onto Remus' cock, demanding and greedy.
'Harder.' Sirius grunts, beyond embarrassment. 'Fuck, Moony, more.'
'Yeah.' Remus isn't much up for conversation, but he starts to move more quickly, thrusting and grunting as his hands claw at Sirius' back.
Sirius had propped himself up on his elbows, but he's pushed down flat on his face by the force of Remus pounding into him. He's only vaguely of how ridiculous he must look, head smooshed into the pillow, arse up in the air, but he doesn't think about it, doesn't care when all that matters is that he gets more of Moony's cock, harder and deeper and more.
'Fuck,' he mutters, fumbling to wrap his hand around his cock. He doesn't want it to stop, but he doesn't think he can stand it much longer and if he doesn't come soon he'll surely burst. The angle's awkward, and he's trembling, but he barely has to touch himself, just gets his fingers curled around his cock and he's coming, collapsing onto the bed as he spills over his hand.
Babbling and lust-shaken, Sirius can feel the sparse hairs on Remus' chest prickling his back, the bite of Remus' teeth on his shoulder, and the sticky-heat of spunk as Remus comes inside him. He's hypersensitive, skin tingling, and mouth dry. His brain appears to have been replaced with something thick and squishy, and he doesn't think he can trust himself to move, or speak, or even think.
It's messy, debauched, and perfect.
Eventually, just as the sweat and spit all over Sirius' body is starting to dry and prickle his skin, and he's realising his arse is maybe a wee bit tender, Remus pulls out of him with a reluctant sigh and a brief kiss to Sirius' shoulder. He produces a wand from somewhere (a real wand for doing magic, it's not a euphemism...) and starts cleaning them up. Sirius is grateful for the consideration although, through his woozy haze of contentment, he realises he's not in the terrible rush to get clean again that he has been every other time they've had sex.
Remus settles the bedcovers over Sirius and lies beside him, taking a moment to ruffle Sirius' hair as he settles down.
Smiling, Sirius wriggles closer and throws an arm over Remus' middle. He tilts his head and is about to kiss Remus, until two things stop him dead in his tracks.
The first is that he remembers just exactly where Remus' mouth has been. The second is the realisation that he does still have some boundaries after all.
Remus' quirks an eyebrow, looking faintly amused, and then twists around to reach for the glass of water he likes to keep by the bed. He swills the water around his mouth and wipes his lips with the back of his hand before turning back to Sirius, grinning.
'OK?' he asks. 'Or do I have to go and brush my teeth before you'll kiss me?'
'Idiot,' mutters Sirius, rolling Remus onto his back and kissing him. He can feel the low rumble of laughter in Remus' chest as he kisses him, sloppy in his post-sex languor. Remus doesn't seem to mind Sirius' lack of finesse, judging by the contented little noises that bubble up from the back of his throat and the way he wraps his arms around Sirius, holding him with tender affection.
It's nice; lazy and blissful. Sirius nestles down beside Remus and enjoys being petted and fussed over, and Remus scratching behind his ear. He's happy and tired, just on the edge of falling into a very satisfied sleep.
Except...Sirius' mind never did rest easy at the best of times, and something's troubling him.
'What is it?' asks Remus, cocking his head and looking at Sirius. It's only when he speaks that Sirius realises he's been chewing his lower lip and wishes he wasn't so bloody transparent.
'It's just...' he begins, uncertain of how to form the words. 'That thing you did...before we, er, did it.'
'When I stuck my tongue up your arse before we fucked?' says Remus. 'It's called rimming, Padfoot.'
Oh, so that's what that was. Sirius had wondered. Although, if there was a name for it, then that meant...
'So do people usually do that?' Sirius can feel the anxiety creeping back, because it would be unfair and unMarauderly to refuse to return the favour if Remus asked, but he feels a little sick at the thought of putting his own mouth on someone's backside - even if it is Moony's backside, which is far nicer than most.
Remus shrugs. 'Some do, some don't,' he says. His expression softens, and he gives Sirius an indulgent smile. 'Don't worry,' he adds, 'it's not compulsory. I think a lot of people don't like it.'
Sirius nods slowly, still not quite sure, and Remus sidles a little closer to him.
'I liked doing it to you,' he says, whispering in Sirius' ear. 'Liked turning you on, making you want me.' He strokes Sirius' hair back off his face, watching him with gentle curiosity. 'And I promise I don't expect anything in return.'
Sirius purses his lips and tries to think of a way to express himself without sounding like a pathetic, whiny virgin. 'It's always you that has to teach me this stuff,' he says quietly.
'You've taught me lots of things,' says Remus. 'Like how pick locks and make alcohol out of lemon rinds, and at least five thousand different loopholes in Magical Law.'
All useful life skills, Sirius admits to himself, but still. 'It's not the same thing.'
'No?' says Remus. 'Well, how about if I told you that you taught me the most important thing about sex is the person you do it with?'
This, of all things, lifts Sirius' spirits, and a plethora of lingering, ill-formed doubts are forgotten in an instant.
'Why, Moony,' he replies, beaming, 'is this your roundabout and emotionally constipated way of telling me that you love me?'
Remus frowns and huffs. 'Do you have to be so sentimental after vigorous exercise?' he asks. 'Only I'm sure it can't be good for my digestion.'
Sirius just laughs, giddy and triumphant. 'Aw, c'mon, Moony,' he says. 'No need to be embarrassed about being head-over-heels in love with such fine a specimen as myself.'
Remus hits him with a pillow. 'I don't see why anyone would love a frigid, egotistical bastard like you.'
'You and a thousand impressionable Hufflepuff girls before you,' says Sirius. It's possible that he's gloating, rather. 'Not that any of them were ever desperate enough to shag me that they'd stick their tongues up my arse.'
'Well, no,' agrees Remus. 'Hufflepuffs are nice.'
'Whereas you are a ravening pervert,' says Sirius. 'A ravening, love-sick pervert.'
'I see,' says Remus. 'However do you put up with me?'
Sirius smiles and wraps his arm around Remus' chest, squeezing him tight, and presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek. 'Because you're my ravening pervert. And I probably love you almost as much as you love me.'
Remus returns the smile, though Sirius suspects he's also trying (and failing) to look stern and disapproving of Sirius' wanton displays of sentiment. 'That's nice, Padfoot,' he says. 'Can you shut up and let me sleep now?'
'Only if you admit how much love you me first.'
'Tell you what,' says Remus. 'You let me sleep and in the morning I'll teach you all about felching. And you can, I dunno, write some poetry or something. Deal?'
'OK,' agrees Sirius, and kisses him goodnight, before settling down happily. In his last waking moments, he has a momentary panic about what felching might entail, but he decides not to worry about it. Remus is probably just making it up anyway.
THE END
Author's note: feedback is always welcome. Just don't bother asking for a felching sequel - the rimming was bad enough.
Title: Tongue-Tied
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/kinks: Surprise!rimming, buttsecks, soppiness.
Summary: Moony's tongue...his arse...what the hell?
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Author's Notes: For dreaminoflorien, who requested: The first time Remus talks Sirius - or perhaps doesn't talk him into and simply proceeds - into rimming.
'Do you want to try something different?'
Remus' voice is light, even casual, and it's not like Sirius isn't usually up for new experiences. But since they're both naked, sprawled out on Sirius' bed and dripping wet from a lively round of where's-the-soap? in the shower, 'something different' clearly doesn't mean a new drink, a fresh source of mischief-making or a law they haven't yet broken. It means a different way of having sex.
Which isn't a bad thing in itself - Sirius is all for variety and, after a rather shaky start, he's decided he likes sex very, very much - it's more that 'a different way of having sex' means something Remus knows all about and Sirius doesn't, and might well end up making a fool out of himself over. Again. Sirius is so used to being best at everything that it still disconcerts him that there's a whole arena in which Remus is way ahead of him. He doesn't like not knowing, and every time Remus pushes him to try something different it reminds him that he's woefully inexperienced and Remus, well, isn't.
Still, he's not about to admit to that, so he swallows the bubble of worry that floats up his chest and turns to Remus, grinning. 'What did you have in mind?'
Remus' grin in response is broader, wicked and predatory. He leans over Sirius, pushing him onto his back and runs his hand up Sirius' side, hip to shoulder. Sirius shivers under the attention, but can't escape the feeling that he's about to be eaten for dinner.
'I just want you to lie there,' says Remus, then presses a kiss to Sirius' shoulder, 'and relax' - another kiss to Sirius' neck - 'looking gorgeous' - his lips brush against Sirius' chest, making him wiggle in delight. Remus lifts his head and looks Sirius in the eye. 'You do, by the way, look supremely fuckable.'
'Ah.' Sirius is smart enough to know his ego's being stroked, but there's no getting away from the fact that he enjoys it. He tries not to preen or blush at the obvious flattery.
Remus just smiles and turns his attention back to Sirius' body, punctuating his words with kisses as he continues to talk. 'So you just lie back and think of England,' he continues, teeth nipping at Sirius' collar bone, 'while I kiss you. All over.'
Well, that sounds easy enough. Sirius is relieved that Remus isn't about to whip out some bizarre looking contraption and call it a 'sex toy' or ask him to attempt anything that Sirius isn't entirely sure is physically possible without the aid of some fairly advanced human transfiguration. Kissing is something he definitely feels comfortable with, and Sirius doesn't have any objections at all to Remus carrying on the way he's going.
Except...Remus is a Marauder, after all, and Sirius, for all he might be sexually naïve, wasn't born yesterday.
'What's in it for you?' he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he stares up at Remus.
There are teeth in Remus' grin this time, glinting and feral. 'Apart from the pleasure of getting to touch, and feel, and taste every inch of you,' he says, the warm, faux-innocent tone of his voice only serving to make him sound more dangerous, 'if I do it right, you'll to be begging me to fuck you by the time I'm finished.'
Ah. Well, that would be it then.
In all honesty, Sirius still isn't quite used to the whole fucking business. He can cope with it now, at least enough for Remus to take him without the whole thing turning into some hideously embarrassing disaster, which is certainly an improvement on their first time. Yet Sirius still feels there's something not quite right, and though it's got better each of the handful of times they've tried it, he keeps waiting for the final part to slot into place (metaphorically speaking) so he can start enjoying it properly without feeling anxious or self-conscious.
Remus is giving him that look, though, the one that says he wants to swallow Sirius whole, the one that leaves Sirius in no doubt at all just how much Remus wants him. The one that never fails to get Sirius to agree to whatever Remus asks of him, more than bravado or Sirius' own desire to save face, because there's nothing so intoxicating as being the object of such powerful, overwhelming lust.
Sirius smirks, and cocks an eyebrow. 'Go on then.'
Remus leans down and kisses Sirius briefly on the lips, gentle and sweet, and laughs softly as he swings one leg around to straddle Sirius' hips. The tip of his tongue glides over his upper lip, and his eyes wander over Sirius' torso, appraising him, drinking him in. There's an expression of quiet satisfaction on his face, and Sirius can almost hear him thinking, yes, you'll do nicely.
Remus' lips move slowly over Sirius' shoulder, murmuring words that Sirius can't quite hear, but that sound affectionate, in between kisses. He kisses Sirius' forearm, the crook of his elbow, the palm of his hand. His nose rubs against Sirius' skin as Remus kisses his belly, his chest, a higgledy-piggledy path up to the other shoulder and down his arm. Remus pecks a quick succession of butterfly kisses across Sirius' collarbone and whorls his tongue over Sirius' nipples, languid, wet and teasing.
The slow, steady progression of touches across his body is enough to distract Sirius from worrying about what happens next and whether or not he'll mess it up, and he's able to do as Remus instructed; lie back and relax. He arches under the sensations of Remus' mouth travelling across his skin, sighing contentedly as a lazy arousal builds up in him.
Remus goes lower, nipping at Sirius' pelvis and licking his hip. His breath is hot as he half-chuckles against Sirius' skin, then he moves down, kissing Sirius' thigh. Sirius knows he's being teased now, and he sucks in deep breaths of air, staring steadfastly at the ceiling, determined not to let Remus get the better of him.
It's becoming increasingly difficult for to keep his composure as Remus keeps on kissing, nibbling, and sucking on him, up the other leg now, and slower than ever. Sirius had been hard since - well, it seems like an awfully long time now - and he's moving past pleasantly turned-on into uncomfortably horny. Remus knows, the bastard, of course he does; how could he not, even without the unmistakable evidence of Sirius' straining erection right in front of his nose.
He's waiting for Sirius to ask, most likely, as he trails his lips up Sirius' leg and back up onto his belly. But Sirius won't - can't - ask, even now that he can feel the warmth of Remus' breath on his balls and he has to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from crying out. He knows that Remus would give him what he asked - he always does, so pleased when Sirius does ask - and he knows because Remus taught him how good it would feel. But the whole thing still strikes him as faintly ridiculous, and it just seems weird to ask a friend to put his mouth on your private parts. So Sirius wriggles, and tenses, turns a little pink, and says nothing.
Of course, Remus knows without being told, and so he moves, excruciatingly slowly towards Sirius' cock, still kissing every inch of skin as goes. Sirius shivers and fights to keep still when Remus' lips brush against his cock, kissing a steady trail up one side of the shaft and down the other, still with that maddening, methodical slowness. It occurs to Sirius that Remus is actually trying to kill him.
Remus looks up suddenly, still grinning like some evil sex-assassin, and pulls himself up to face Sirius.
'You know,' he says, voice low and faintly mocking, 'you don't seem very relaxed.'
Well, that settles it. Remus is definitely trying to torture him to death.
Sirius hisses and glares up at Remus. 'Tease.'
Remus doesn't look the least abashed. 'You love it,' he says, and he taps Sirius' shoulder. 'C'mon, roll over.'
Sirius considers arguing, or at least putting up some token resistance, but quickly decides it isn't worth it. He vaguely recalls a time when Moony used to go along with almost anything he wanted, albeit sometimes reluctantly, and can't quite work out what it is about Naked Time that makes Remus suddenly so assertive. In any case, he knows Remus always seems to get what he wants sooner or later, so it's easier all around if Sirius just does what he's told in the first place.
He rolls over with a petulant sigh, huffing like a bratty teenager. Remus just laughs at him, and slides onto Sirius' back. Sirius wants to be cross with him, he really does, but Remus is already kissing his neck and stroking his sides, and it just feels so good; warm and enticing, and he soon starts to unwind under Remus' touch.
Despite still being very, very turned on, Sirius does feel relaxed as Remus kisses his neck and shoulders, every bump on his spine and the back of his head. Remus' hands are all over him, fanning his back and sides, as Remus kisses his elbow, the back of his knee and his ankle.
Sirius sighs deeply and burrows his head into the pillow. The whole thing is pleasant and soothing, only just this side of erotic with just the right amount of comfortable intimacy. It's all going wonderfully well until...
...until something very wrong and strange happens.
Sirius lifts his head up suddenly, biting back a yelp of surprise. That can't really be...no, surely not? Moony's tongue...his arse...what the hell?
'Um.' It's not the most eloquent response, but then Sirius isn't exactly feeling eloquent. Somewhere between disbelieving and horrified would be more accurate.
Remus stops...whatever it is he's doing. 'Relax,' he says, the palm of his hand pressed warm and secure in the small of Sirius' back.
He stays like that for several moments, still and constant. Sirius lets his head fall back onto the pillow, somehow reassured by Remus' unmoving presence. He sucks in deep breaths of air, trying to force his breathing to return to normal. Relax.
There's nothing Remus has wanted him to do - cajoled, teased, or talked him into - that Sirius hasn't enjoyed so far, despite how absurd, uncomfortable, bizarre of just plain icky it may have seemed at first, Sirius reminds himself. He can trust Remus.
And then Remus' tongue is there again, wet and firm, and pushing up inside Sirius in quick, deft movements. Remus' hands are on his cheeks, gently prising him open, while his tongue darts back and forth; hot, fast and slippery. Sirius forces himself not to think, not to consider how weird it is to have someone's tongue stuck up his bottom, or worry about how distasteful the whole thing must be for Moony, and chases the sudden realisation that now would be a really bad time to break wind from his mind.
Instead, he concentrates on how it feels. And, actually, it feels sort of nice. In fact, the more Sirius relaxes the better it feels, and in a matter of moments he's twitching with pleasure each time Remus' tongue flits back and forth. Remus is making soft little 'mm-mm'ing sounds of pleasure, like he's really enjoying himself down there, and Sirius knows another layer of his inhibitions have fallen away when he finds himself pushing back onto Remus' face, wanton and unthinking, because as good as it feels (and it does feel very, very good) it just isn't enough.
And then Remus pulls back (the unspeakable, vile sadist), pauses just for a beat, and blows. Sirius gasps out loud, because sweet Merlin on a broomstick, it feels like a bolt of lightning up his spine.
'Fuck me,' says Sirius, not caring that this means Remus has been proven right (again) or about how easy he sounds, how needy and desperate. Damn it, he is needy and desperate, and for once he's ready to beg if he has to because if Remus doesn't fuck him right this instant he might actually die.
'You sure?' asks Remus, his voice a little hoarse, too constricted to sound triumphant.
For a moment Sirius thinks Remus really will make him beg for it, but then he feels the mattress shift as Remus reaches for the lube, and Sirius barely manages to choke out his demands - 'just get on with it' - before slick fingers slide into his arse.
It's not gentle and slow like the times they've done it before, when Remus had to negotiate his way into Sirius' body with deft stretching and digital diplomacy. Sirius can feel how eager Remus is, and that only makes him want it more; this time, there's no quiet creep of anxiety from the knowledge that he's about to get fucked good and proper, just the delicious heat of anticipation.
Remus doesn't make him wait long, and the deep, satisfied sigh he lets out as he pushes his cock inside Sirius is evidence enough that he's every bit as desperate for this as Sirius is. His fingers dig deep enough to bruise into Sirius' hips and he thrusts forwards, his movements jagged and erratic.
He's fucking Sirius slowly, jerky, and his breathing's loud and ragged. Most likely he's holding back, trying not to hurt Sirius or push him too far, but Sirius is sure that nothing can hurt him right now and he wouldn't even care if it did, so he pushes back onto Remus' cock, demanding and greedy.
'Harder.' Sirius grunts, beyond embarrassment. 'Fuck, Moony, more.'
'Yeah.' Remus isn't much up for conversation, but he starts to move more quickly, thrusting and grunting as his hands claw at Sirius' back.
Sirius had propped himself up on his elbows, but he's pushed down flat on his face by the force of Remus pounding into him. He's only vaguely of how ridiculous he must look, head smooshed into the pillow, arse up in the air, but he doesn't think about it, doesn't care when all that matters is that he gets more of Moony's cock, harder and deeper and more.
'Fuck,' he mutters, fumbling to wrap his hand around his cock. He doesn't want it to stop, but he doesn't think he can stand it much longer and if he doesn't come soon he'll surely burst. The angle's awkward, and he's trembling, but he barely has to touch himself, just gets his fingers curled around his cock and he's coming, collapsing onto the bed as he spills over his hand.
Babbling and lust-shaken, Sirius can feel the sparse hairs on Remus' chest prickling his back, the bite of Remus' teeth on his shoulder, and the sticky-heat of spunk as Remus comes inside him. He's hypersensitive, skin tingling, and mouth dry. His brain appears to have been replaced with something thick and squishy, and he doesn't think he can trust himself to move, or speak, or even think.
It's messy, debauched, and perfect.
Eventually, just as the sweat and spit all over Sirius' body is starting to dry and prickle his skin, and he's realising his arse is maybe a wee bit tender, Remus pulls out of him with a reluctant sigh and a brief kiss to Sirius' shoulder. He produces a wand from somewhere (a real wand for doing magic, it's not a euphemism...) and starts cleaning them up. Sirius is grateful for the consideration although, through his woozy haze of contentment, he realises he's not in the terrible rush to get clean again that he has been every other time they've had sex.
Remus settles the bedcovers over Sirius and lies beside him, taking a moment to ruffle Sirius' hair as he settles down.
Smiling, Sirius wriggles closer and throws an arm over Remus' middle. He tilts his head and is about to kiss Remus, until two things stop him dead in his tracks.
The first is that he remembers just exactly where Remus' mouth has been. The second is the realisation that he does still have some boundaries after all.
Remus' quirks an eyebrow, looking faintly amused, and then twists around to reach for the glass of water he likes to keep by the bed. He swills the water around his mouth and wipes his lips with the back of his hand before turning back to Sirius, grinning.
'OK?' he asks. 'Or do I have to go and brush my teeth before you'll kiss me?'
'Idiot,' mutters Sirius, rolling Remus onto his back and kissing him. He can feel the low rumble of laughter in Remus' chest as he kisses him, sloppy in his post-sex languor. Remus doesn't seem to mind Sirius' lack of finesse, judging by the contented little noises that bubble up from the back of his throat and the way he wraps his arms around Sirius, holding him with tender affection.
It's nice; lazy and blissful. Sirius nestles down beside Remus and enjoys being petted and fussed over, and Remus scratching behind his ear. He's happy and tired, just on the edge of falling into a very satisfied sleep.
Except...Sirius' mind never did rest easy at the best of times, and something's troubling him.
'What is it?' asks Remus, cocking his head and looking at Sirius. It's only when he speaks that Sirius realises he's been chewing his lower lip and wishes he wasn't so bloody transparent.
'It's just...' he begins, uncertain of how to form the words. 'That thing you did...before we, er, did it.'
'When I stuck my tongue up your arse before we fucked?' says Remus. 'It's called rimming, Padfoot.'
Oh, so that's what that was. Sirius had wondered. Although, if there was a name for it, then that meant...
'So do people usually do that?' Sirius can feel the anxiety creeping back, because it would be unfair and unMarauderly to refuse to return the favour if Remus asked, but he feels a little sick at the thought of putting his own mouth on someone's backside - even if it is Moony's backside, which is far nicer than most.
Remus shrugs. 'Some do, some don't,' he says. His expression softens, and he gives Sirius an indulgent smile. 'Don't worry,' he adds, 'it's not compulsory. I think a lot of people don't like it.'
Sirius nods slowly, still not quite sure, and Remus sidles a little closer to him.
'I liked doing it to you,' he says, whispering in Sirius' ear. 'Liked turning you on, making you want me.' He strokes Sirius' hair back off his face, watching him with gentle curiosity. 'And I promise I don't expect anything in return.'
Sirius purses his lips and tries to think of a way to express himself without sounding like a pathetic, whiny virgin. 'It's always you that has to teach me this stuff,' he says quietly.
'You've taught me lots of things,' says Remus. 'Like how pick locks and make alcohol out of lemon rinds, and at least five thousand different loopholes in Magical Law.'
All useful life skills, Sirius admits to himself, but still. 'It's not the same thing.'
'No?' says Remus. 'Well, how about if I told you that you taught me the most important thing about sex is the person you do it with?'
This, of all things, lifts Sirius' spirits, and a plethora of lingering, ill-formed doubts are forgotten in an instant.
'Why, Moony,' he replies, beaming, 'is this your roundabout and emotionally constipated way of telling me that you love me?'
Remus frowns and huffs. 'Do you have to be so sentimental after vigorous exercise?' he asks. 'Only I'm sure it can't be good for my digestion.'
Sirius just laughs, giddy and triumphant. 'Aw, c'mon, Moony,' he says. 'No need to be embarrassed about being head-over-heels in love with such fine a specimen as myself.'
Remus hits him with a pillow. 'I don't see why anyone would love a frigid, egotistical bastard like you.'
'You and a thousand impressionable Hufflepuff girls before you,' says Sirius. It's possible that he's gloating, rather. 'Not that any of them were ever desperate enough to shag me that they'd stick their tongues up my arse.'
'Well, no,' agrees Remus. 'Hufflepuffs are nice.'
'Whereas you are a ravening pervert,' says Sirius. 'A ravening, love-sick pervert.'
'I see,' says Remus. 'However do you put up with me?'
Sirius smiles and wraps his arm around Remus' chest, squeezing him tight, and presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek. 'Because you're my ravening pervert. And I probably love you almost as much as you love me.'
Remus returns the smile, though Sirius suspects he's also trying (and failing) to look stern and disapproving of Sirius' wanton displays of sentiment. 'That's nice, Padfoot,' he says. 'Can you shut up and let me sleep now?'
'Only if you admit how much love you me first.'
'Tell you what,' says Remus. 'You let me sleep and in the morning I'll teach you all about felching. And you can, I dunno, write some poetry or something. Deal?'
'OK,' agrees Sirius, and kisses him goodnight, before settling down happily. In his last waking moments, he has a momentary panic about what felching might entail, but he decides not to worry about it. Remus is probably just making it up anyway.
THE END
Author's note: feedback is always welcome. Just don't bother asking for a felching sequel - the rimming was bad enough.