hp fic // walked like a woman and talked like a man [remus/sirius; R.]
title: walked like a woman and talked like a man
author: crooked
pairing: Sirius/Remus
rating: R
word count: 741
summary: He can't believe he never knew, not through seven years of school and a full year after.
warnings: cross-dressing.
a/n: for the hp anon kink meme @ karmicsunshine.
walked like a woman and talked like a man
He can't believe he never knew, not through seven years of school and a full year after.
Remus stares at Sirius, disbelieving, eyes travelling over the short skirt and the long, shapely legs he can't believe he never noticed before. Sirius has already kicked off his sky-high stilettos and taken off whatever top he wore, leaning against his wardrobe when Remus comes into the room and rubbing his sore, silk-stockinged feet.
Suddenly - perhaps he's heard Remus' breathing hitch - he looks up, freezes, horrified at being caught. He quickly pulls the short, dark brown feathered wig off his head, his cheeks probably flushing deeply beneath the rouge. Remus doesn't move; he can't move. He can only stare at the crimson trailing away from Sirius' painted, smeared lips, the smokey kohl rimming his grey eyes, smudged and creating dark shadows. He's been snogging someone, all tarted up like this, and Remus feels a pang of jealousy stab through his chest at the very thought.
Sirius opens his mouth, bee-stung from what had to be too-rough kisses, but Remus is too fast. He's got Sirius at the hips, a hand tangled in his hair, pulling, tugging, exposing the long curve of Sirius' neck. Remus bites, hard, and Sirius moans wantonly.
"I-I can explain, Moony," he says, but Remus presses his lips to his to shut him up. He doesn't want explanations; explanations would give him time to think about why Sirius, this Sirius, turns him on so much. And when Remus over-thinks, he just pulls away. So he doesn't want to think, not one fucking bit.
He bites at Sirius' mouth, tasting the waxy lipstick on his own tongue, shoving him back against the wardrobe and pressing a knee between his thighs. He sucks on Sirius' tongue as he runs a hand up the inside of his thigh, moaning at the feel of his fingertips gliding over the sheer, black fabric stretched over Sirius' skin. His fingers curl over the hem of the sinfully short skirt, hitching it up and bunching the fabric at Sirius' waist. He presses the heel of his palm against Sirius' cock, feels him shudder beneath him, swallows his moan in a kiss. The stockings are hardly a barrier, and Remus' fingers slowly trail up and then down the length, feeling Sirius' cock strain and twitch.
He hastily drops down to his knees, yanking down Sirius' stockings as quick as he can. He glances up at Sirius briefly, sees the moment when Sirius' breath catches in his throat, sees when his eyes widen that tiny bit. Remus wraps a hand around Sirius' cock, lips gliding over the tip, and that's all it takes for Sirius to unravel. He pushes two fingers between his blood-red lips, sucking hard on them as he grabs a fistful of Remus' hair, hips rocking forward as he comes.
Remus scrambles to stand, swatting away Sirius' hands as they try to unfasten his trousers. There isn't any time for that, not now, and he knows it. He pushes him back against the wardrobe, rutting against the jut of Sirius' hip, grunting and groaning into the crook of his neck. A long leg wraps around the backs of his thighs, pulling him in closer, and Remus' breaths get more laboured, his thrusts jerkier.
"Fuck," he bites out, his voice almost a growl, and he comes with a shuddering sigh. They're still for a moment after - Sirius has a hand wrapped around the back of Remus' neck, and Remus's fingertips leave the promise of bruises on Sirius' thigh - and nothing but breathless sighs as each tries to catch his breath.
Sirius pushes Remus back a bit after a moment, and Remus laughs at the sight. He's even more dishevelled than before, makeup smudged nearly clean off his face, mouth stained red as if he's been eating cherries.
"Like I said, I can explain," he begins again, but Remus is beyond caring.
He waves Sirius off, rolling his eyes and stepping back. He grins at Sirius as he gives him a slow once-over. He's the picture of debauchery, a complete disgrace with his cock still hanging out and his stockings torn. Remus looks down at himself, not faring much better with his stained trousers.
"Does it honestly look," he starts, moving back in against Sirius, lips brushing his jaw, "like I give a fuck?"
author: crooked
pairing: Sirius/Remus
rating: R
word count: 741
summary: He can't believe he never knew, not through seven years of school and a full year after.
warnings: cross-dressing.
a/n: for the hp anon kink meme @ karmicsunshine.
walked like a woman and talked like a man
He can't believe he never knew, not through seven years of school and a full year after.
Remus stares at Sirius, disbelieving, eyes travelling over the short skirt and the long, shapely legs he can't believe he never noticed before. Sirius has already kicked off his sky-high stilettos and taken off whatever top he wore, leaning against his wardrobe when Remus comes into the room and rubbing his sore, silk-stockinged feet.
Suddenly - perhaps he's heard Remus' breathing hitch - he looks up, freezes, horrified at being caught. He quickly pulls the short, dark brown feathered wig off his head, his cheeks probably flushing deeply beneath the rouge. Remus doesn't move; he can't move. He can only stare at the crimson trailing away from Sirius' painted, smeared lips, the smokey kohl rimming his grey eyes, smudged and creating dark shadows. He's been snogging someone, all tarted up like this, and Remus feels a pang of jealousy stab through his chest at the very thought.
Sirius opens his mouth, bee-stung from what had to be too-rough kisses, but Remus is too fast. He's got Sirius at the hips, a hand tangled in his hair, pulling, tugging, exposing the long curve of Sirius' neck. Remus bites, hard, and Sirius moans wantonly.
"I-I can explain, Moony," he says, but Remus presses his lips to his to shut him up. He doesn't want explanations; explanations would give him time to think about why Sirius, this Sirius, turns him on so much. And when Remus over-thinks, he just pulls away. So he doesn't want to think, not one fucking bit.
He bites at Sirius' mouth, tasting the waxy lipstick on his own tongue, shoving him back against the wardrobe and pressing a knee between his thighs. He sucks on Sirius' tongue as he runs a hand up the inside of his thigh, moaning at the feel of his fingertips gliding over the sheer, black fabric stretched over Sirius' skin. His fingers curl over the hem of the sinfully short skirt, hitching it up and bunching the fabric at Sirius' waist. He presses the heel of his palm against Sirius' cock, feels him shudder beneath him, swallows his moan in a kiss. The stockings are hardly a barrier, and Remus' fingers slowly trail up and then down the length, feeling Sirius' cock strain and twitch.
He hastily drops down to his knees, yanking down Sirius' stockings as quick as he can. He glances up at Sirius briefly, sees the moment when Sirius' breath catches in his throat, sees when his eyes widen that tiny bit. Remus wraps a hand around Sirius' cock, lips gliding over the tip, and that's all it takes for Sirius to unravel. He pushes two fingers between his blood-red lips, sucking hard on them as he grabs a fistful of Remus' hair, hips rocking forward as he comes.
Remus scrambles to stand, swatting away Sirius' hands as they try to unfasten his trousers. There isn't any time for that, not now, and he knows it. He pushes him back against the wardrobe, rutting against the jut of Sirius' hip, grunting and groaning into the crook of his neck. A long leg wraps around the backs of his thighs, pulling him in closer, and Remus' breaths get more laboured, his thrusts jerkier.
"Fuck," he bites out, his voice almost a growl, and he comes with a shuddering sigh. They're still for a moment after - Sirius has a hand wrapped around the back of Remus' neck, and Remus's fingertips leave the promise of bruises on Sirius' thigh - and nothing but breathless sighs as each tries to catch his breath.
Sirius pushes Remus back a bit after a moment, and Remus laughs at the sight. He's even more dishevelled than before, makeup smudged nearly clean off his face, mouth stained red as if he's been eating cherries.
"Like I said, I can explain," he begins again, but Remus is beyond caring.
He waves Sirius off, rolling his eyes and stepping back. He grins at Sirius as he gives him a slow once-over. He's the picture of debauchery, a complete disgrace with his cock still hanging out and his stockings torn. Remus looks down at himself, not faring much better with his stained trousers.
"Does it honestly look," he starts, moving back in against Sirius, lips brushing his jaw, "like I give a fuck?"