Fic: Untitled table-sex, Remus/Sirius, NC17
Okay, table sex, moderately pervy. I think I know how _emeraldgreen feels now, every time she write one of those bizarre fetish things, because this actually is a little filthy in a table-related style, oh dear.
Title: Ain't got one yet.
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Hint of actual sex with a table... It isn't that bad, honest.
For lejic
Remus Lupin got the shock of his life, while carefully patrolling the corridors, when the palm of a hand suddenly pressed against the base of his skull, long fingers combing their way into his hair and fisting around. When dry, soft lips began to mouth softly at the nape of his neck, he knew he was done for.
His voice was saying, ‘no, Sirius, no,’ but the rest of his body was not agreeing, and soon he was letting himself be bundled through the nearest doorway; pressed against the nearest piece of furniture, while his neck was more thoroughly explored.
The robes he wore were thin, and through them the carved-wood corner of the teacher’s desk they’d stumbled into easily pressed it’s way into the cleft of his buttocks, alarming him that such a thing could feel so erotic. Warm, flat palms were smoothing over his shoulders and then over his waist, his stomach, hips, thighs, and though he’d not remembered Sirius locking the door, it was certainly possible that he had.
‘Sirius,’ he murmured.
‘Hush, hush, I’m busy,’ was Sirius’ only reply, and Remus was happy enough to leave him to concentrate on the kisses he was pushing against Remus’ neck, all the while slipping and sliding those hands over then under his robes, lifting, then removing them.
Reality almost crept in, as Remus realised he was standing in a classroom, bare save for his pants, and with another man suddenly knelt at his feet, but Sirius gave him no time for contemplation of anything except licks and kisses on his thighs. He moaned as Sirius held tightly to his hips, forcing him back slightly, onto the lip of the desk.
‘You like that?’ Sirius asked, puzzled, before his fingertips reached the edge of the desk. ‘Oh, Moony, you want to be fucked.’ Sirius looked up at him, a brief, wicked smile, before letting his cheek brush Remus’ erection as he lowered his chin, adding a couple of painfully-gentle kisses to the eager head of his cock.
Finally, Sirius stood and kissed him properly; wet, hot lips and tongue, and Remus moaned a little deeper as Sirius pressed him back, harder, so the heavy prod of the wood opened him slightly.
Sirius’ lips soon began sucking at his neck again, and his hands cupped Remus’ hips then his arse, spreading him more, then lifting him to perch on the desk’s sharp, carved-wood edge, and the sweet pleasure of Sirius’ nibbling lips and teeth, and, more importantly, of his body; warm and hard and wedged firmly between his legs, made him forget all about what was too dirty, too filthy, and what was not.
‘You want to be fucked,’ Sirius repeated, against his jaw, and Remus could only wrap his legs tighter around Sirius, squeezing his thighs together to grip him and hold them closer.
Remus finally managed to mumble the word ‘yes’, too caught up in the attention being paid to the sensitive parts of his throat, and taking care to arch his neck and angle his head to encourage those kisses to be rested in the places he most wanted them, that he wasn’t at all expecting Sirius’ next move.
He’d been expecting his underwear to be edged down, of course, enjoying first the cold air on his swollen flesh, then the way his cock grazed roughly over the thick weave of Sirius’ jeans, but he hadn’t expected the sudden twist of his body; to be pushed backwards then quickly rolled over, leaving him winded and face-down on the table, though his feet still reached the floor.
‘More comfortable?’ Sirius whispered, leant in close so Remus could feel the denim scuff over the bare cheeks of his arse.
Remus was gasping for air, and blushing, chest tight, yet it still was more comfortable, because he could hear Sirius removing his own clothes now, and soon there were slick fingers sliding between his buttocks. ‘Oh.’
And then the hand wasn’t there and that was because Sirius must be preparing himself, touching himself, and Remus blushed harder, wanting to watch, but also wantonly enjoying his own nakedness, and being spread open like this on the desk, waiting. It was becoming far too exciting, the anticipation, and he let one hand drift down, fingers probing under where his stomach was flat to the desk. ‘No,’ Sirius murmured, slapping at his elbow, ‘that isn’t how it works. I fuck you, and you get to fuck McGonagall’s desk, you see?’
Remus attempted to complain, only now registering the fact that he was naked in their Transfiguration classroom, bent over his teacher’s desk, nerves fluttering with the thrill as well as the shock, but then Sirius’ cock nudged at his arse, beginning to push and stretch at him, giving him more important things to think about; like the way his cock slid along the polished wood as Sirius settled fully inside him.
Remus reached his hands forward, resting his forehead on his arms and gripping the far edge of the desk for some purchase as Sirius began to fuck him, far too slowly. Usually, being dragged away from prefect duty by Sirius would result in a rough, frantic fumble in the nearest empty cupboard, so being taken gently but firmly, and completely naked, in a classroom, was a rather unusual occurrence. Not that he was complaining, with Sirius’ long fingers carefully kneading the muscles of his arse and thighs, stroking his hips and up his sides, his cock scraping smoothly and perfectly, pressed between the desk and his stomach, with every one of Sirius’ thrusts.
‘Having fun?’ Sirius asked, curling down over him briefly, bare chest against Remus’ bare back, skin hot and a little sticky.
‘Mm,’ Remus managed to mumble, his reply interrupted by Sirius sliding even deeper.
‘Good.’ Sirius rewarded him with a wet kiss to the shoulder blade, before lifting his body off again, bracing his hands flat either side of Remus’ hips and fucking him a little harder. ‘It’s- I mean, it is working?’
The faster drag of his cock across the heavy, cold wood caused Remus to moan again, and meant Sirius didn’t need an answer. And Sirius himself was clearly getting carried away now; fingers digging painfully into Remus’ hips, and his movements were more even and rhythmic, deeper and better.
The solid, constant pressure of the desk, and his erection gliding ever more quickly over it, was making Remus start to whimper, as he often did when he’d been teased too long. ‘Close?’ Sirius asked, that strained hitch to his voice meaning he was about to come.
‘Y-yes, oh-‘
‘Tell me- tell me when, please-‘
Remus cried out and pushed backwards, because that tone to Sirius' voice meant he was coming, quiet, as always, but powerfully, fingernails gouging semi-circles into the sides of Remus’ arse. Remus could imagine his face; contorted with a silent moan as the pleasure washed through his body and the thought of it, and the force of the becoming-sticky wood of the desk as his cock drove into it, hard, and again and again, made his own orgasm pour out of him, a high rush of feeling as Sirius’ thrusts became shallower.
Remus gasped, continuing to rub into the desk slowly through his come-down, as Sirius sighed and curled over him. ‘Good?’ Sirius whispered, still inside him.
‘Yes, oh yes.’ Sirius slid his arms under for a hug, through the sticky mess on his stomach, and held him, pressing kisses to his spine.
‘Put some clothes on,’ Remus murmured, to distract from the sleepy, almost romantic mood they sometimes found themselves in afterwards.
‘In a minute,’ Sirius drawled lazily.
Remus pulled himself together and attempted to stand, causing Sirius to pull out of him and wincing as he did so. ‘Clothes,’ he insisted.
‘Okay.’
‘And then you’re going to tell me what McGonagall did to piss you off so much.’
Sirius grinned, and Remus groaned, seeing Sirius’ eyes flicker proudly towards the mess they'd made on the desk.
Title: Ain't got one yet.
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Hint of actual sex with a table... It isn't that bad, honest.
For lejic
Remus Lupin got the shock of his life, while carefully patrolling the corridors, when the palm of a hand suddenly pressed against the base of his skull, long fingers combing their way into his hair and fisting around. When dry, soft lips began to mouth softly at the nape of his neck, he knew he was done for.
His voice was saying, ‘no, Sirius, no,’ but the rest of his body was not agreeing, and soon he was letting himself be bundled through the nearest doorway; pressed against the nearest piece of furniture, while his neck was more thoroughly explored.
The robes he wore were thin, and through them the carved-wood corner of the teacher’s desk they’d stumbled into easily pressed it’s way into the cleft of his buttocks, alarming him that such a thing could feel so erotic. Warm, flat palms were smoothing over his shoulders and then over his waist, his stomach, hips, thighs, and though he’d not remembered Sirius locking the door, it was certainly possible that he had.
‘Sirius,’ he murmured.
‘Hush, hush, I’m busy,’ was Sirius’ only reply, and Remus was happy enough to leave him to concentrate on the kisses he was pushing against Remus’ neck, all the while slipping and sliding those hands over then under his robes, lifting, then removing them.
Reality almost crept in, as Remus realised he was standing in a classroom, bare save for his pants, and with another man suddenly knelt at his feet, but Sirius gave him no time for contemplation of anything except licks and kisses on his thighs. He moaned as Sirius held tightly to his hips, forcing him back slightly, onto the lip of the desk.
‘You like that?’ Sirius asked, puzzled, before his fingertips reached the edge of the desk. ‘Oh, Moony, you want to be fucked.’ Sirius looked up at him, a brief, wicked smile, before letting his cheek brush Remus’ erection as he lowered his chin, adding a couple of painfully-gentle kisses to the eager head of his cock.
Finally, Sirius stood and kissed him properly; wet, hot lips and tongue, and Remus moaned a little deeper as Sirius pressed him back, harder, so the heavy prod of the wood opened him slightly.
Sirius’ lips soon began sucking at his neck again, and his hands cupped Remus’ hips then his arse, spreading him more, then lifting him to perch on the desk’s sharp, carved-wood edge, and the sweet pleasure of Sirius’ nibbling lips and teeth, and, more importantly, of his body; warm and hard and wedged firmly between his legs, made him forget all about what was too dirty, too filthy, and what was not.
‘You want to be fucked,’ Sirius repeated, against his jaw, and Remus could only wrap his legs tighter around Sirius, squeezing his thighs together to grip him and hold them closer.
Remus finally managed to mumble the word ‘yes’, too caught up in the attention being paid to the sensitive parts of his throat, and taking care to arch his neck and angle his head to encourage those kisses to be rested in the places he most wanted them, that he wasn’t at all expecting Sirius’ next move.
He’d been expecting his underwear to be edged down, of course, enjoying first the cold air on his swollen flesh, then the way his cock grazed roughly over the thick weave of Sirius’ jeans, but he hadn’t expected the sudden twist of his body; to be pushed backwards then quickly rolled over, leaving him winded and face-down on the table, though his feet still reached the floor.
‘More comfortable?’ Sirius whispered, leant in close so Remus could feel the denim scuff over the bare cheeks of his arse.
Remus was gasping for air, and blushing, chest tight, yet it still was more comfortable, because he could hear Sirius removing his own clothes now, and soon there were slick fingers sliding between his buttocks. ‘Oh.’
And then the hand wasn’t there and that was because Sirius must be preparing himself, touching himself, and Remus blushed harder, wanting to watch, but also wantonly enjoying his own nakedness, and being spread open like this on the desk, waiting. It was becoming far too exciting, the anticipation, and he let one hand drift down, fingers probing under where his stomach was flat to the desk. ‘No,’ Sirius murmured, slapping at his elbow, ‘that isn’t how it works. I fuck you, and you get to fuck McGonagall’s desk, you see?’
Remus attempted to complain, only now registering the fact that he was naked in their Transfiguration classroom, bent over his teacher’s desk, nerves fluttering with the thrill as well as the shock, but then Sirius’ cock nudged at his arse, beginning to push and stretch at him, giving him more important things to think about; like the way his cock slid along the polished wood as Sirius settled fully inside him.
Remus reached his hands forward, resting his forehead on his arms and gripping the far edge of the desk for some purchase as Sirius began to fuck him, far too slowly. Usually, being dragged away from prefect duty by Sirius would result in a rough, frantic fumble in the nearest empty cupboard, so being taken gently but firmly, and completely naked, in a classroom, was a rather unusual occurrence. Not that he was complaining, with Sirius’ long fingers carefully kneading the muscles of his arse and thighs, stroking his hips and up his sides, his cock scraping smoothly and perfectly, pressed between the desk and his stomach, with every one of Sirius’ thrusts.
‘Having fun?’ Sirius asked, curling down over him briefly, bare chest against Remus’ bare back, skin hot and a little sticky.
‘Mm,’ Remus managed to mumble, his reply interrupted by Sirius sliding even deeper.
‘Good.’ Sirius rewarded him with a wet kiss to the shoulder blade, before lifting his body off again, bracing his hands flat either side of Remus’ hips and fucking him a little harder. ‘It’s- I mean, it is working?’
The faster drag of his cock across the heavy, cold wood caused Remus to moan again, and meant Sirius didn’t need an answer. And Sirius himself was clearly getting carried away now; fingers digging painfully into Remus’ hips, and his movements were more even and rhythmic, deeper and better.
The solid, constant pressure of the desk, and his erection gliding ever more quickly over it, was making Remus start to whimper, as he often did when he’d been teased too long. ‘Close?’ Sirius asked, that strained hitch to his voice meaning he was about to come.
‘Y-yes, oh-‘
‘Tell me- tell me when, please-‘
Remus cried out and pushed backwards, because that tone to Sirius' voice meant he was coming, quiet, as always, but powerfully, fingernails gouging semi-circles into the sides of Remus’ arse. Remus could imagine his face; contorted with a silent moan as the pleasure washed through his body and the thought of it, and the force of the becoming-sticky wood of the desk as his cock drove into it, hard, and again and again, made his own orgasm pour out of him, a high rush of feeling as Sirius’ thrusts became shallower.
Remus gasped, continuing to rub into the desk slowly through his come-down, as Sirius sighed and curled over him. ‘Good?’ Sirius whispered, still inside him.
‘Yes, oh yes.’ Sirius slid his arms under for a hug, through the sticky mess on his stomach, and held him, pressing kisses to his spine.
‘Put some clothes on,’ Remus murmured, to distract from the sleepy, almost romantic mood they sometimes found themselves in afterwards.
‘In a minute,’ Sirius drawled lazily.
Remus pulled himself together and attempted to stand, causing Sirius to pull out of him and wincing as he did so. ‘Clothes,’ he insisted.
‘Okay.’
‘And then you’re going to tell me what McGonagall did to piss you off so much.’
Sirius grinned, and Remus groaned, seeing Sirius’ eyes flicker proudly towards the mess they'd made on the desk.