Week 11 topic - "What is your favourite daydream, and why?"
Title: Hunger
Pairings: PP/RL, SB/RL
Rating: R
Just a little belated Remus/Peter smut for ficbymarks
Peter peered out of the portrait hole and slipped the cloak over his head before stepping out of Gryffindor Tower. It was draughty out in the corridor, an icy breeze giving him goosebumps where his legs were growing too long for his pyjamas, and he was thankful that he'd remembered to put his slippers on. Even through the soles he could feel the faintest hint of a chill from the stone floor.
He had barely reached the stairs when he heard the portrait grumble as it opened up once more.
He didn't need to look behind him to know who it was.
"Peter?" The whisper seemed to fill the entire landing with Remus' low voice.
Peter paused, sure that someone must have heard. The only sound was that of his breathing, too loud under the close confines of the cloak. Trying to be still and silent, and resisting the urge to turn and look, he jumped as Remus touched his arm.
"Sorry." Remus whispered, more quietly this time. "I didn't think you could have gone far yet." He hesitated before pulling at the cloak lightly. "Are you going to let me under there before Filch finds us?"
"Don't know." Peter was aware he sounded sulky, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care.
"Come on, I gave up my warm blanket to come down to the kitchens with you." Remus nudged him with his leg.
Peter wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be squashed under the cloak with Remus just yet. However, since the alternative involved sending him back to his bed, where Sirius was waiting for him under Remus' favourite blanket…he lifted the cloak without turning to meet Remus' eyes and allowed him to slide under.
- - - - -
"…and maybe some of those small pork pies?" Remus glanced at Peter as the house elves scurried off to fetch the food required. "I don't think even Sirius would like cold steak and kidney pie, he'll have to make do with those." He licked his lips.
"If you don't eat them all first." Peter's good humour was almost restored this far away from Sirius' teasing, and with Remus' undivided attention. He perched himself on the table as usual to wait.
"Hmm. I'm not that hungry really." Remus trailed his fingers along the edge of the table as he spoke, moving closer to Peter with each step.
Peter hefted himself further onto the table, his eyes darting from the pantry doorway to the circular scorch mark beneath his fingers, to the uncomfortable predatory gaze focused on him, not sure where to look.
"You're probably in the wrong place then." He tried a joke, but his voice came out as barely more than a squeak as he felt Remus' hands brush lightly over his thighs.
Remus traced the brushed cotton lines of Peter's pyjamas, barely touching with his fingertips, as he pressed his body lightly against the dangling legs in front of him.
"Am I?" Remus murmured, and his eyes closed as he swayed with the rhythm of his strokes, the warmth of his body pressing into trembling knees with each rocking movement. His hair was tousled from the invisibility cloak, one long strand brushing against the curve of his lips. That had to tickle.
Peter reached out to tuck the strand of hair behind Remus' ear. He let his fingers linger on the soft hair, his eyes on those parted lips, remembering how that particular cushioned curve felt against his skin; hot with breath against his cheek, vibrating with whispers across his ear, tentatively nipping its way down his chest. He watched, hypnotised, as Remus twisted his mouth, white teeth biting down on the soft bottom lip.
The gently stroking hands didn't stop at his thighs next time; Remus rocked forward and he gasped as he felt them part his loose dressing gown and tickle over the front of his pyjama bottoms, searching out the opening. Thin, determined hips nudged Peter's knees apart, bony and hard enough to bruise if he didn't submit, and that thought only made him harder, lurching up to meet the long fingers that curled into his pyjamas. He was sure he shouldn't do this, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why as Remus folded his hand around his cock.
Instead Peter gave into the temptation to taste the nibbled lip in front of him, and Remus' touch was surer now, more confident. He allowed himself to be dragged into a kiss, heart thumping wildly at the strength in Remus' hands. Fingers tangled in his short hair; teeth and lips grazed his mouth, a hint of sharp canines and stubble making him shudder against the too-thin chest; then his eyes opened wide as the soft mouth left his, and he felt fleeting warm skin and a huff of breath flowing over his groin.
He could almost feel Remus' mouth curve in a smile, damp with kisses against his cock. Silky brown strands and gentle fingertips trailed across his legs and belly, until he couldn't tell what was touching him in one place or another. A low strained murmur hummed its contentment while nose, mouth, cheek nuzzled into him, rubbing affectionately, drawing out sounds he had never known existed, let alone produced. The hot mouth drew him in, tongue scorching new sensations out of his flesh with every lick of its rough, searching tip, and a whimper rippled uncontrollably from his throat. Peter's clumsy fingers gathered up the scattered strands of hair, shaking as they twisted through the sparse brown trail, and tightening, pulling as the encircling lips worked harder, faster, until he felt them break him, take him and swallow him down.
- - - - -
"Here we are, Master Peter."
A house elf tentatively reached out a knobbly hand to tug at Peter's sleeve, breaking into the memory. Peter slid gracelessly off the kitchen table, his fingertips tracing over the indentation of a familiar scorch mark as he braced himself.
He picked up the nearest package of food and nibbled absently on a sandwich, trying not to listen to the muffled gasps and thumps of his companions stumbling out of the broom cupboard. When they made it to the table to collect their share of the burden, Remus' lips were swollen and too red, his eyes bright, while Sirius had the dazed look Peter knew well, his hair mussed and tangled.
Peter stood aside to let them leave first, and looked at the ceiling as Remus nudged the unsteady Sirius through the door into James' teasing banter. Oh, because everything was all right if Sirius did it. He avoided Remus' eyes even when he felt him stop next to him on his way out. It was uncomfortable, feeling that gaze on him when he was close enough to touch. Close enough for his unique scent to torment Peter's senses, and the sweaty salty foreign tang that lay over it to fill him with nausea.
"Peter…"
He forced a smile, lowering his eyes but still not meeting that all too reasonable gaze. "Go on, before we all get caught."
And with a resigned sigh Remus slipped away, leaving Peter to trail behind, hunger still gnawing at his stomach.
Muse: Peter Pettigrew
Fandom: Harry Potter
Words: 1212
Pairings: PP/RL, SB/RL
Rating: R
Just a little belated Remus/Peter smut for ficbymarks
Peter peered out of the portrait hole and slipped the cloak over his head before stepping out of Gryffindor Tower. It was draughty out in the corridor, an icy breeze giving him goosebumps where his legs were growing too long for his pyjamas, and he was thankful that he'd remembered to put his slippers on. Even through the soles he could feel the faintest hint of a chill from the stone floor.
He had barely reached the stairs when he heard the portrait grumble as it opened up once more.
He didn't need to look behind him to know who it was.
"Peter?" The whisper seemed to fill the entire landing with Remus' low voice.
Peter paused, sure that someone must have heard. The only sound was that of his breathing, too loud under the close confines of the cloak. Trying to be still and silent, and resisting the urge to turn and look, he jumped as Remus touched his arm.
"Sorry." Remus whispered, more quietly this time. "I didn't think you could have gone far yet." He hesitated before pulling at the cloak lightly. "Are you going to let me under there before Filch finds us?"
"Don't know." Peter was aware he sounded sulky, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care.
"Come on, I gave up my warm blanket to come down to the kitchens with you." Remus nudged him with his leg.
Peter wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be squashed under the cloak with Remus just yet. However, since the alternative involved sending him back to his bed, where Sirius was waiting for him under Remus' favourite blanket…he lifted the cloak without turning to meet Remus' eyes and allowed him to slide under.
- - - - -
"…and maybe some of those small pork pies?" Remus glanced at Peter as the house elves scurried off to fetch the food required. "I don't think even Sirius would like cold steak and kidney pie, he'll have to make do with those." He licked his lips.
"If you don't eat them all first." Peter's good humour was almost restored this far away from Sirius' teasing, and with Remus' undivided attention. He perched himself on the table as usual to wait.
"Hmm. I'm not that hungry really." Remus trailed his fingers along the edge of the table as he spoke, moving closer to Peter with each step.
Peter hefted himself further onto the table, his eyes darting from the pantry doorway to the circular scorch mark beneath his fingers, to the uncomfortable predatory gaze focused on him, not sure where to look.
"You're probably in the wrong place then." He tried a joke, but his voice came out as barely more than a squeak as he felt Remus' hands brush lightly over his thighs.
Remus traced the brushed cotton lines of Peter's pyjamas, barely touching with his fingertips, as he pressed his body lightly against the dangling legs in front of him.
"Am I?" Remus murmured, and his eyes closed as he swayed with the rhythm of his strokes, the warmth of his body pressing into trembling knees with each rocking movement. His hair was tousled from the invisibility cloak, one long strand brushing against the curve of his lips. That had to tickle.
Peter reached out to tuck the strand of hair behind Remus' ear. He let his fingers linger on the soft hair, his eyes on those parted lips, remembering how that particular cushioned curve felt against his skin; hot with breath against his cheek, vibrating with whispers across his ear, tentatively nipping its way down his chest. He watched, hypnotised, as Remus twisted his mouth, white teeth biting down on the soft bottom lip.
The gently stroking hands didn't stop at his thighs next time; Remus rocked forward and he gasped as he felt them part his loose dressing gown and tickle over the front of his pyjama bottoms, searching out the opening. Thin, determined hips nudged Peter's knees apart, bony and hard enough to bruise if he didn't submit, and that thought only made him harder, lurching up to meet the long fingers that curled into his pyjamas. He was sure he shouldn't do this, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why as Remus folded his hand around his cock.
Instead Peter gave into the temptation to taste the nibbled lip in front of him, and Remus' touch was surer now, more confident. He allowed himself to be dragged into a kiss, heart thumping wildly at the strength in Remus' hands. Fingers tangled in his short hair; teeth and lips grazed his mouth, a hint of sharp canines and stubble making him shudder against the too-thin chest; then his eyes opened wide as the soft mouth left his, and he felt fleeting warm skin and a huff of breath flowing over his groin.
He could almost feel Remus' mouth curve in a smile, damp with kisses against his cock. Silky brown strands and gentle fingertips trailed across his legs and belly, until he couldn't tell what was touching him in one place or another. A low strained murmur hummed its contentment while nose, mouth, cheek nuzzled into him, rubbing affectionately, drawing out sounds he had never known existed, let alone produced. The hot mouth drew him in, tongue scorching new sensations out of his flesh with every lick of its rough, searching tip, and a whimper rippled uncontrollably from his throat. Peter's clumsy fingers gathered up the scattered strands of hair, shaking as they twisted through the sparse brown trail, and tightening, pulling as the encircling lips worked harder, faster, until he felt them break him, take him and swallow him down.
- - - - -
"Here we are, Master Peter."
A house elf tentatively reached out a knobbly hand to tug at Peter's sleeve, breaking into the memory. Peter slid gracelessly off the kitchen table, his fingertips tracing over the indentation of a familiar scorch mark as he braced himself.
He picked up the nearest package of food and nibbled absently on a sandwich, trying not to listen to the muffled gasps and thumps of his companions stumbling out of the broom cupboard. When they made it to the table to collect their share of the burden, Remus' lips were swollen and too red, his eyes bright, while Sirius had the dazed look Peter knew well, his hair mussed and tangled.
Peter stood aside to let them leave first, and looked at the ceiling as Remus nudged the unsteady Sirius through the door into James' teasing banter. Oh, because everything was all right if Sirius did it. He avoided Remus' eyes even when he felt him stop next to him on his way out. It was uncomfortable, feeling that gaze on him when he was close enough to touch. Close enough for his unique scent to torment Peter's senses, and the sweaty salty foreign tang that lay over it to fill him with nausea.
"Peter…"
He forced a smile, lowering his eyes but still not meeting that all too reasonable gaze. "Go on, before we all get caught."
And with a resigned sigh Remus slipped away, leaving Peter to trail behind, hunger still gnawing at his stomach.
Muse: Peter Pettigrew
Fandom: Harry Potter
Words: 1212