Sirius Black Fest 2017: "What You Do When You Love Someone"
Title: What You Do When You Love Someone
Author: Nachodontdothat
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Sirius/Harry, past Sirius/James
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1623
Prompt #: 49. Sometimes, Harry looks so much like James that Sirius can't help it.
Warnings: Highlight to read *Underage, Rape/Noncon, Mental Illness, Sex, Anal Sex*
Disclaimer:
A/N: Thank you to SDT for the beta!
Summary: It’s true that Sirius often gets confused these days, especially when he’s been hitting the firewhisky a little too hard. Especially when the dreams come, and he can’t tell what is true, what is false. What is happening now, what is a memory, what never happened at all.
[AO3 LINK]
Everyone always talks about how alike they are, Harry and him, but Sirius doesn’t see it.
Certainly, Harry’s the spit of him, as far as appearances go. Other than that, however, only Sirius can see how different they are.
It’s true that Sirius often gets confused these days, especially when he’s been hitting the firewhisky a little too hard. Especially when the dreams come, and he can’t tell what is true, what is false. What is happening now, what is a memory, what never happened at all.
The first time it happened was a few days after Harry first showed up at his bint mother’s house. Sirius had been sleeping, or maybe he had been awake the whole time. In his room, overwhelmed by the firewhisky and the dead, begging those lifeless eyes to stop, just please stop looking at him like that, stop accusing him of all the things he knows he’s guilty of.
Sirius? Are you alright?
He’s not sure how Harry had ended up in his room. The warmth and weight of Harry’s hand on his arm, the concern in the green eyes that peered into his own... He had been sure of that.
Please. I need- please.
Sirius, why are you- oh Merlin, what-
Harry had seemed confused when Sirius had pulled him closer, running his hands up under his shirt and through his hair. He had been shaking a bit, pushing at Sirius’ chest, attempting to create space.
Sirius, I don’t understand, I-
Please. I need- I love you. I need this. Please.
Harry hadn’t made a fuss when Sirius had guided him over to the bed, sliding his nightshirt up over his head and pushing him down to lie on his back. He hadn’t said a word as Sirius’ fingers and lips and teeth and tongue had worked their way over the smooth contours of his skinny chest. Harry had lain still and quiet, allowing Sirius to work his way down to his pants.
Back at school, Sirius had never been allowed to touch freely like this. Their couplings only happened after they’d had a few too many drinks, or at least enough that they could pretend to be drunker than they were. They’d both wanted it, every time, Sirius always told himself after that they’d both wanted it, but Sirius had not been the one allowed to touch.
Sirius, no! We can’t, this isn’t right-
Shhhh. It’s alright. I love you. Please let me. It’ll feel good, I promise. I love you so much, I’ll make you feel so good.
Trembling hands had moved away from the waistband of Harry’s pants and allowed Sirius to continue sliding them off. Harry hadn’t been hard, not at first, but it was fine. Sirius kissed and stroked and whispered soothing words. Soon enough, he had Harry’s cock spurting in his mouth.
Harry had gasped, one fist pressed against his mouth, the other gripping the sheets. He’d had his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Those eyes hadn’t opened, not until Sirius had moved back up on the bed to curl around Harry, wrapping an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
You’re beautiful when you come, you know. Thank you for letting me- for wanting me. I just needed to show you that I love you. You need to know how much I love you.
Harry’s eyes had looked up at him, wide and watery. Sirius had pulled him closer, burying his face in that mess of black hair.
Back at school, there had been no cuddling. After they’d gotten off- after he’d gotten off- Sirius would be left in his bed, cold and alone. Harry hadn’t left, though. He had let Sirius hold him, had stayed until Sirius fell asleep. Maybe longer than that. Sirius can never be completely sure when he has faded from reality into dreams.
The second time it happened, Harry had not come to chase away the demons. Sirius had tried explaining to Remus and Lily that no, it wasn’t him, he would never, it was the rat the whole time, but they had only laughed at him mockingly, dissolving in and out of the draperies.
Sirius had made his way to Harry’s room, trying to be quiet as he’d stumbled a bit in the hall. The door had been bolted, but a Marauder can always get past any lock.
Sirius! How did you- We can’t do it again, please don’t make me-
I would never! I would never force you, you know that. I’ll never hurt you. I just- I need you. I need you so badly, need you more than anything, nothing else- please, just let me show you-
The bedcovers had lowered slightly from their position under Harry’s chin. Sirius had sat himself down on the bed, reaching a hand up to cup Harry’s face gently, running his thumb against the fine cheekbone.
Harry hadn’t said anything while Sirius had undressed him, slowly and reverently, trailing kisses down his chest and murmuring assurances against his ear.
He had remained silent while Sirius had stripped himself of his own robes and stretched out over Harry, pressing their bodies together, grinding down against Harry’s bony hips, reaching between them to grab hold of their cocks, moaning and begging and whimpering into Harry’s neck.
Harry hadn’t made a sound until he came, arching up against Sirius and spurting across his stomach. His strangled cry had pushed Sirius over the edge, had made Sirius thrust faster against the slick come, had caused Sirius to shout as he came as well, with one hand gripping Harry’s hair, pulling his head back to expose that pale white throat.
I’m sorry, Sirius, I can’t… I shouldn’t have- we can’t keep doing this, I don’t want-
It’s alright. It’s perfectly natural, to want it. I won’t tell anyone about this, and neither will you. It’ll be between us, alright? Something special for just the two of us. I love you so much, you know that, don’t you?
But…
It feels good, doesn’t it? You like it, I can tell. It’s alright to like it. Come here, stop trembling. Let me hold you. Let me make it better.
Back at school, Sirius had not been allowed to cry out when he came. It was always a hurried, fumbling affair, rushed and muffled. He had not liked it when Sirius made too much noise, or called out his name, or did anything else that reminded him that it was a bloke underneath him. He hadn’t wanted to think about the fact that it was Sirius he was fucking.
Sirius went along with it, took whatever he was given, no matter how small. Even when it was rough and painful, even when he got pitying stares from Remus and Peter the next morning, because that’s what you do. That’s what you do when you love someone.
Harry doesn’t ask anything of Sirius, not after Sirius has calmed him down. Harry doesn’t press his hand against Sirius’ mouth, or hiss at him to stop making so much noise. Harry doesn’t wish that Sirius was someone else. Not like he used to. He never said, but Sirius could always tell.
Harry might look like him, but they aren’t the same. This isn’t the same as it was back then. This is different.
It’s the evening before Harry returns to Hogwarts. As he spells away the lock and slips through Harry’s door, Sirius realizes that he’s stopped counting how many times this has happened. The thought makes him smile as he makes his way over to Harry’s bed.
Harry is lying under the covers, still and silent. Sirius places a gentle kiss to his forehead as he pulls back the sheets and starts undressing them both. Harry doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. Sirius knows what Harry wants, what he needs.
He is careful, as always, as he slicks his fingers with lube and stretches Harry open, stroking his thigh, licking and sucking along his hip. He takes his time pushing his way inside, allowing Harry time to adjust before he begins moving, slowly at first, then picking up the pace as he rolls his hips and thrusts rhythmically. He makes sure to angle himself so that his cock hits Harry’s prostate with unerring precision, based on the way Harry inhales sharply and squeezes his eyes shut.
Harry is hot and tight around his cock. He is looking to the side, staring at the wall, allowing Sirius to lick and nip his way up that pale column of neck that he loves so much. Sirius hitches one of Harry’s legs up higher, allowing him to go in deeper, to get them as close as possible.
When Sirius feels his orgasm closing in, he moves his hand down to stroke Harry’s cock, making sure that Harry comes first, just as he does every time they’re together. Sirius always makes sure that Harry is taken care of before he worries about himself.
Once his hand is coated with the warm stickiness Harry’s come, Sirius licks his fingers clean and thrusts harder, faster, deeper, shuddering as his cock pulses deep inside of Harry, filling him up, warm endearments spilling from his lips as he fists that maddening mess of hair.
Back in school, they never fucked face to face like this. Sirius was never allowed to watch him come, was only allowed to show his back as he came himself.
Back in school, Sirius was never allowed to say the things he says now, the promises and assurances he gives to the black-haired boy lying underneath him.
I love you. I never stopped. Never will. I love you so much, James. Forever. I love you.
Author: Nachodontdothat
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Sirius/Harry, past Sirius/James
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1623
Prompt #: 49. Sometimes, Harry looks so much like James that Sirius can't help it.
Warnings: Highlight to read *Underage, Rape/Noncon, Mental Illness, Sex, Anal Sex*
Disclaimer:
A/N: Thank you to SDT for the beta!
Summary: It’s true that Sirius often gets confused these days, especially when he’s been hitting the firewhisky a little too hard. Especially when the dreams come, and he can’t tell what is true, what is false. What is happening now, what is a memory, what never happened at all.
[AO3 LINK]
Everyone always talks about how alike they are, Harry and him, but Sirius doesn’t see it.
Certainly, Harry’s the spit of him, as far as appearances go. Other than that, however, only Sirius can see how different they are.
It’s true that Sirius often gets confused these days, especially when he’s been hitting the firewhisky a little too hard. Especially when the dreams come, and he can’t tell what is true, what is false. What is happening now, what is a memory, what never happened at all.
The first time it happened was a few days after Harry first showed up at his bint mother’s house. Sirius had been sleeping, or maybe he had been awake the whole time. In his room, overwhelmed by the firewhisky and the dead, begging those lifeless eyes to stop, just please stop looking at him like that, stop accusing him of all the things he knows he’s guilty of.
Sirius? Are you alright?
He’s not sure how Harry had ended up in his room. The warmth and weight of Harry’s hand on his arm, the concern in the green eyes that peered into his own... He had been sure of that.
Please. I need- please.
Sirius, why are you- oh Merlin, what-
Harry had seemed confused when Sirius had pulled him closer, running his hands up under his shirt and through his hair. He had been shaking a bit, pushing at Sirius’ chest, attempting to create space.
Sirius, I don’t understand, I-
Please. I need- I love you. I need this. Please.
Harry hadn’t made a fuss when Sirius had guided him over to the bed, sliding his nightshirt up over his head and pushing him down to lie on his back. He hadn’t said a word as Sirius’ fingers and lips and teeth and tongue had worked their way over the smooth contours of his skinny chest. Harry had lain still and quiet, allowing Sirius to work his way down to his pants.
Back at school, Sirius had never been allowed to touch freely like this. Their couplings only happened after they’d had a few too many drinks, or at least enough that they could pretend to be drunker than they were. They’d both wanted it, every time, Sirius always told himself after that they’d both wanted it, but Sirius had not been the one allowed to touch.
Sirius, no! We can’t, this isn’t right-
Shhhh. It’s alright. I love you. Please let me. It’ll feel good, I promise. I love you so much, I’ll make you feel so good.
Trembling hands had moved away from the waistband of Harry’s pants and allowed Sirius to continue sliding them off. Harry hadn’t been hard, not at first, but it was fine. Sirius kissed and stroked and whispered soothing words. Soon enough, he had Harry’s cock spurting in his mouth.
Harry had gasped, one fist pressed against his mouth, the other gripping the sheets. He’d had his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Those eyes hadn’t opened, not until Sirius had moved back up on the bed to curl around Harry, wrapping an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
You’re beautiful when you come, you know. Thank you for letting me- for wanting me. I just needed to show you that I love you. You need to know how much I love you.
Harry’s eyes had looked up at him, wide and watery. Sirius had pulled him closer, burying his face in that mess of black hair.
Back at school, there had been no cuddling. After they’d gotten off- after he’d gotten off- Sirius would be left in his bed, cold and alone. Harry hadn’t left, though. He had let Sirius hold him, had stayed until Sirius fell asleep. Maybe longer than that. Sirius can never be completely sure when he has faded from reality into dreams.
The second time it happened, Harry had not come to chase away the demons. Sirius had tried explaining to Remus and Lily that no, it wasn’t him, he would never, it was the rat the whole time, but they had only laughed at him mockingly, dissolving in and out of the draperies.
Sirius had made his way to Harry’s room, trying to be quiet as he’d stumbled a bit in the hall. The door had been bolted, but a Marauder can always get past any lock.
Sirius! How did you- We can’t do it again, please don’t make me-
I would never! I would never force you, you know that. I’ll never hurt you. I just- I need you. I need you so badly, need you more than anything, nothing else- please, just let me show you-
The bedcovers had lowered slightly from their position under Harry’s chin. Sirius had sat himself down on the bed, reaching a hand up to cup Harry’s face gently, running his thumb against the fine cheekbone.
Harry hadn’t said anything while Sirius had undressed him, slowly and reverently, trailing kisses down his chest and murmuring assurances against his ear.
He had remained silent while Sirius had stripped himself of his own robes and stretched out over Harry, pressing their bodies together, grinding down against Harry’s bony hips, reaching between them to grab hold of their cocks, moaning and begging and whimpering into Harry’s neck.
Harry hadn’t made a sound until he came, arching up against Sirius and spurting across his stomach. His strangled cry had pushed Sirius over the edge, had made Sirius thrust faster against the slick come, had caused Sirius to shout as he came as well, with one hand gripping Harry’s hair, pulling his head back to expose that pale white throat.
I’m sorry, Sirius, I can’t… I shouldn’t have- we can’t keep doing this, I don’t want-
It’s alright. It’s perfectly natural, to want it. I won’t tell anyone about this, and neither will you. It’ll be between us, alright? Something special for just the two of us. I love you so much, you know that, don’t you?
But…
It feels good, doesn’t it? You like it, I can tell. It’s alright to like it. Come here, stop trembling. Let me hold you. Let me make it better.
Back at school, Sirius had not been allowed to cry out when he came. It was always a hurried, fumbling affair, rushed and muffled. He had not liked it when Sirius made too much noise, or called out his name, or did anything else that reminded him that it was a bloke underneath him. He hadn’t wanted to think about the fact that it was Sirius he was fucking.
Sirius went along with it, took whatever he was given, no matter how small. Even when it was rough and painful, even when he got pitying stares from Remus and Peter the next morning, because that’s what you do. That’s what you do when you love someone.
Harry doesn’t ask anything of Sirius, not after Sirius has calmed him down. Harry doesn’t press his hand against Sirius’ mouth, or hiss at him to stop making so much noise. Harry doesn’t wish that Sirius was someone else. Not like he used to. He never said, but Sirius could always tell.
Harry might look like him, but they aren’t the same. This isn’t the same as it was back then. This is different.
It’s the evening before Harry returns to Hogwarts. As he spells away the lock and slips through Harry’s door, Sirius realizes that he’s stopped counting how many times this has happened. The thought makes him smile as he makes his way over to Harry’s bed.
Harry is lying under the covers, still and silent. Sirius places a gentle kiss to his forehead as he pulls back the sheets and starts undressing them both. Harry doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. Sirius knows what Harry wants, what he needs.
He is careful, as always, as he slicks his fingers with lube and stretches Harry open, stroking his thigh, licking and sucking along his hip. He takes his time pushing his way inside, allowing Harry time to adjust before he begins moving, slowly at first, then picking up the pace as he rolls his hips and thrusts rhythmically. He makes sure to angle himself so that his cock hits Harry’s prostate with unerring precision, based on the way Harry inhales sharply and squeezes his eyes shut.
Harry is hot and tight around his cock. He is looking to the side, staring at the wall, allowing Sirius to lick and nip his way up that pale column of neck that he loves so much. Sirius hitches one of Harry’s legs up higher, allowing him to go in deeper, to get them as close as possible.
When Sirius feels his orgasm closing in, he moves his hand down to stroke Harry’s cock, making sure that Harry comes first, just as he does every time they’re together. Sirius always makes sure that Harry is taken care of before he worries about himself.
Once his hand is coated with the warm stickiness Harry’s come, Sirius licks his fingers clean and thrusts harder, faster, deeper, shuddering as his cock pulses deep inside of Harry, filling him up, warm endearments spilling from his lips as he fists that maddening mess of hair.
Back in school, they never fucked face to face like this. Sirius was never allowed to watch him come, was only allowed to show his back as he came himself.
Back in school, Sirius was never allowed to say the things he says now, the promises and assurances he gives to the black-haired boy lying underneath him.
I love you. I never stopped. Never will. I love you so much, James. Forever. I love you.