Sensations Sweet (NC-17)
Title: Sensations Sweet
Rating: NC-17/18/Mature
Warnings: Um, foodplay, mild bondage, frottage, jelly babies. Fellow diabetics may be traumatised ;)
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them and my own characters are too modest.
Wordcount: 2857
Author's Note: The title is from Wordsworth but he really didn't mean it like this. I am insane and when I started writing this had just started an incredibly austere new diet (the only sweet thing I'm allowed to eat now is fruit). Sirius has no excuse. Arsenal lost the FA Cup to Ipswich Town in 1978. Sirius blamed Remus.
Summary: It's Easter Monday, Sirius thinks Remus is revising too much and Honeydukes has a sale. Standalone crack fic.
There was something thin and sticky wrapped around his wrists.
And Sirius Black was humming.
Remus hadn’t even woken up properly yet and he already knew it was going to be one of those days. He opened his eyes carefully. Nothing looked wrong. He could see the canopy of his bed, complete with the burn marks from that time Sirius had got excited by Muggle fireworks. He could hear the birds singing outside the window. He could smell…
…liquorice?
Warily, he turned his head to the side. His arms were indeed wrapped in layers of thin black strips. He was coated in them from his elbows to his wrists which were-
“Sirius!”
“Morning!” Sirius’ head appeared in his view, split by an enormous grin. “Morning, morning, morning.”
Remus glared and tried to pull free.
“Don’t move!” Sirius barked and then grinned again.
Oh, god. Why him? Why couldn’t James have stayed for the holidays? This wouldn’t happen to James. Or even Peter. Peter was too fat for this to work.
“Sirius!”
“Remus,” Sirius said and disappeared again. “Hang on. I need switch to strawberry for your legs.”
“Sirius, I’m tied to the bed with liquorice bootlaces!”
“Yup.”
Remus closed his eyes, counted to ten and hoped he would wake up in the meantime.
“By the way,” Sirius said from somewhere near the foot of the bed. “Don’t bother trying to break free. I’ve hidden all your clothes.”
“What!” Remus yelped. “Sirius, I have to go to the library! It’s only a few weeks until NEWTs and I have to revise!”
Sirius leant over him again, his face serious. “That’s why I hid your clothes.”
“NEWTs!”
“You won’t get to take them at all if you die of nerves first. Now lie still and don’t breathe so hard. I need your chest.”
His chest? Where the fuck had his pyjama jacket gone? A quick wriggle reassured him that he still had his pyjama bottoms on but also sent a twinge through him that reminded him that he was a teenage boy and he’d just woken up and there was no way Sirius hadn’t noticed that.
Sirius slapped his hand onto Remus’ chest and said, “Still! How many players on a football team?”
“Eleven. What?”
“Damn. I’ve got twenty-four. The others will have to be refs.”
Remus darted a panicked look at the door. Surely, he didn’t mean real football players?
Reaching into a bag on the nightstand, Sirius pulled out a red jelly baby. He licked its feet and then, frowning thoughtfully, stuck it just above Remus’ right nipple.
“I was going to do a Quidditch pitch,” he said, sounding wistful, “but I couldn’t find anything for the goalposts.”
Remus stared down at the jelly baby and then up at Sirius. This was insane. This was absolutely fucking insane. This was, well, fairly typical Sirius behaviour. In a deeply insane way. Sirius placed another jelly baby, leaning forward until his hair brushed Remus’ belly. Remus twitched and tried to surreptiously shift his legs enough to hide his growing erection.
“Don’t you dare!” Sirius said and dived for his ankles. Remus tried his best to wriggle free but it was hard without the use of his hands. Before he knew it Sirius had stripped his pyjama bottoms off and was wrapping strawberry laces around his ankles. Remus tried to buck him off but it was too late.
He closed his eyes and whimpered. What happened if a house elf came in? Or, worse, a teacher. He could just imagine it - Why am I naked and tied up with confectionary, Professor McGonagall? Well, that’s a very interesting question. Actually, he could just say, Sirius did it, and he’d be excused. Then, however, he’d have to put up with weeks of reproachful stares and veiled allusions and he’d have to explain to James, who would understand that Sirius was insane, and Peter, who would make comments.
“You knocked Arsenal over.”
“Sorry,” Remus managed and then squeaked as Sirius pressed his hips down firmly.
“Stay still.”
“I apologise. I wasn’t designed to be a football pitch.”
Sirius snickered and patted his hip. “Wembley. Cup Final.”
“The things you know about Muggles never cease to amaze me.”
“Arsenal fan. Even pisses Kreacher off.” Then he curled around Remus’ side and whispered in his ear, “I always knew you got off on chocolate, Moony, mate.”
“I don’t see any chocolate,” Remus said. All he had to do was pretend that this was perfectly normal. Then he would be fine.
“Chocolate comes later,” Sirius said and slid away again. Remus could feel his warm weight move down his side. He opened his eyes. It was worse not to know.
Sirius was kneeling over his hips, rearranging the jelly babies. Every time he shifted the soft denim of his jeans rubbed against Remus’ bare skin. Remus wondered if he should warn him that the jelly babies would get a nasty surprise if he didn’t stop. He decided not to. It would serve him right.
He still found it fascinating how Sirius could get so absorbed in something. His eyes shone and his lips pursed and the weight of his full attention could feel like a blow or a flame. Nobody else had that same quality of concentration. If only he could apply it to something else. Someone else. Not him. Or, okay, yes, him but as something more than a landscape to mount jelly babies on.
Sirius pushed his hair back behind his ears and cocked his head, considering. Then he settled back on his haunches. “Done.”
“Congratulations. Now what?”
“We eat chocolate.”
Remus blinked. “Why?”
“It’s Easter Monday. That’s what normal people do on Easter Monday. Eat chocolate.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “We weren’t allowed. My mother said it was a Muggle superstition. She wouldn’t even let Father draw faces on our boiled eggs.”
He looked forlorn that Remus almost forgot that he was so hard it was starting to hurt. “Sirius,” he said gently. “We haven’t got any chocolate.”
“I bought some,” Sirius said. “Before you were even awake. I went down to the village and Honeydukes have a sale on Easter Eggs. So I bought some and I had some space left in the crate so I bought this other stuff too. I thought we could spend the day together and eat chocolate, only it means you can’t go to the library and leave me alone. With all the chocolate, I mean.”
Remus’ brain had stuck on the word crate. He struggled to catch up. “Why have I got jelly babies playing football on my chest?”
Sirius brightened. “You were still asleep when I got back - you’re a right lazy bastard when there’s no lessons. I didn’t want to start without you and I was bored so I decided to strip you and tie you to the bed.”
In terms of Sirius-logic, that almost made sense. Almost.
“Don’t you think that was a little inappropriate, Sirius?” It was the best prefect-voice he could manage, under the circumstances, and it came out more than a little breathy.
Sirius looked down and said, “I thought it was funny. Do you mind?”
He looked so dejected that the protest died in Remus’ throat. He’d seen so little happiness from Sirius lately. The war and the wide world waiting beyond Hogwarts and the way people looked at him and whispered all meant he had veered from wild to sullen for months. If it took decorating Remus with confectionary to make him smile again he really didn’t mind. He wanted Sirius to be happy.
“I don’t mind,” he said gently. “Feels a bit funny but I don’t mind.”
Sirius didn’t say anything. Remus, worried, managed to pull himself up enough to see him. Sirius was still looking down but something had changed in his posture. All that fierce concentration had rushed back over him and Remus could hear his breath quickening.
“Sirius?” he whispered.
Sirius looked up at him. His eyes were wide and dark. He blinked at Remus and then wet his lips. Remus felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched the tip of Sirius’ tongue move across his lips. Then Sirius very deliberately looked down again.
Oh, god, Sirius was staring at his cock.
Remus tugged frantically against the liquorice. This wasn’t fair. How many feet of the bloody stuff had he used, anyway?
“Moony,” Sirius said and his voice was very soft. He put his hands on Remus’ hips again, steadying him. “Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“And whose fault would that be?” Remus demanded and, damn it, he wasn’t panicking because this was just one of Sirius’ stupid pranks.
Sirius stroked his hip, a gentle quiver of fingertips, and Remus couldn’t stop the breath from rushing out of him. He told himself it wasn’t a moan. It wasn’t.
Sirius scrambled off the bed. “I’ll get my wand,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Remus pulled himself up as much as he could, trying to get his breath back. Sirius was backing away from him, tense with worry.
“Not hurt,” he managed.
“You moaned,” Sirius said, sharp and almost angry.
Remus met his gaze, biting his lip. He saw the moment when Sirius got it, the way his eyes widened and his lips curved into a grin.
“You moaned,” he said again.
“I did,” Remus said and his voice had gone husky without his permission.
Sirius smiled, in that slow lazy way that usually meant singing cutlery and dungbombs in the laundry room and turkey dinners that grew wings and flew away. Without breaking his gaze, he slowly began to pull his t-shirt over his head.
Remus squeaked.
Sirius let the t-shirt slide out of his hand and smirked. “Tell me to stop, Moony.”
“I-” He couldn’t. He couldn’t. All he could do was stare because Sirius was slim and proud and the morning light through the window washed him with gold.
And he was skinny and scarred and had jelly babies stuck all over him. He let his hips fall back and felt his shoulders slump.
“Moony?” Sirius said, his fingers pausing on the buttons of his jeans. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Remus said but his common sense was beginning to flood back. What were they doing?
Sirius shoved his jeans off in one quick motion and launched himself at the bed. He propped himself up over Remus, studying him. Remus felt his breath quicken again and closed his eyes. This was wrong. This was so wrong.
“Remus,” Sirius said gently and damn him for not always being an insensitive wanker. “What’s wrong?”
Remus should have said everything and ended this before it got any more out of hand. Instead he heard himself say, “You’re beautiful.”
“I know,” Sirius said. “And?”
He felt his mouth curve into a wry smile. “I’m not.”
“Twat,” Sirius said and kissed him.
He tasted of liquorice, hot and sweet. Remus closed his eyes and kissed him back because - oh, because-
He couldn’t move his arms. He pulled against the liquorice, pressing up. He wanted to bring his arms down and wrap them around Sirius and hold on so tight the liquorice glued them together. He arched again and Sirius moaned and pressed down against him.
He could feel the hardness pressing down on him, feel the heat of Sirius’ skin against his. Then Sirius groaned and resettled himself. Remus felt the head of Sirius’ cock nudge through the slit in his drawers and gave up struggling. Instead he rocked up, moving himself against Sirius. If this was the only way he could touch him he was going to make it good.
His skin was awash with heat, prickling wherever they touched. Sirius’ kisses were sloppy and he had grabbed Remus’ ear and was twisting it in a way which really would have hurt if anything could hurt right now.
Then Sirius pulled away.
Remus whined and opened his eyes. Sirius was staring at him, his eyes wild. His hair had tumbled down around his face and his lips were swollen. As Remus stared at him, a squashed jelly baby dropped off his chest. Remus felt it hit and gulped.
Sirius took a ragged breath and sat back. Remus tried to follow him and this time it hurt when the liquorice pulled his arms down. He couldn’t keep his hips still, just kept pushing, trying to touch Sirius.
The other boy put his hand on Remus’ shoulder, gently, and then began to pluck the jelly babies off his chest, dropping them beside the pillow. Remus couldn’t hold back the shudder as each one tugged free.
“Sirius?” Come back, please. Please, please, please.
The last jelly baby plopped down by his ear and Sirius ran his fingers down his own chest, knocking two very squashed midfielders into his palm. He shoved them into his mouth and shuffled down the bed.
“Sirius!”
There was a sharp sting as the liquorice left his ankles. Remus moaned in relief and curled his leg up, trying to encourage Sirius to come back.
Sirius patted his knee and crawled back along the bed, wriggling out of his drawers. Remus kicked at the mattress, pushing himself up because he had to see. Sirius met his gaze and, damn him, now he looked hesitant.
I want this, you prat, Remus wanted to say. Isn’t it obvious? Haven’t you noticed me looking? Didn’t you know?
All he could managed was, “Sirius.”
And he looked down. Now he understood why Sirius had been silenced. It was such a strange thing to see, someone else’s erection. Did he look like that from this angle? He managed a breath and sorted the words out in his head so he could actually say them.
“Sirius?”
“Remus?”
“I want to touch.”
Sirius threw himself forward again and kissed Remus’ ear wildly before scrabbling at his wrists. Remus wrapped his legs up around Sirius’ hips and began to move, feeling Sirius break the liquorice, strand by strand. Remus could feel the press of Sirius’ cock against his and rocked up harder. Sirius’ breath was uneven and Remus could tell that he was jerking at the liquorice, made clumsy.
“Fuck, Remus. Oh, fuck. I thought, fuck, I thought that I hadn’t thought and you might think… Bollocks!”
He left wrist was free and Remus dragged his hand down Sirius’ back, trailing threads of liquorice.
“Sirius?”
“Uh?”
“Stop thinking.”
“’Kay.”
Remus grinned into Sirius’ shoulder and pushed his hand between their bodies, wrapping it around both their cocks. They were both slick and his hand slid in the sweat dripping off both their bellies.
Sirius moaned and thrust forward. Remus sighed and slid his thumb across their slick heads.
“Fuck! Oh!” Sirius reared up and came, bucking against his hand. Remus pulled hard enough to snap the last threads around his right wrist, wrapped himself around Sirius and rocked with him until heat flashed through him.
It was a while before he could move. He was warm and Sirius was a welcome weight. Moving meant cleaning up and talking and other awkward things. He’d rather stay like this, stinking of sex and Sirius and sugar.
“Moony?”
Sirius was mumbling in his ear but Remus recognised the sheepish tone and sighed. “Padfoot.”
“I only meant to stop you revising.”
“I’d say you managed that.” If Sirius said the word mistake Remus was going to choke himself to death. With chocolate.
Sirius sat up slightly and looked down at him, eyes wide. “I think that sometimes I, you know, get a bit carried away.”
“You don’t say.”
Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that. Don’t you go off somewhere in your head and be sarcastic at me. I’m trying to think.”
“I wasn’t-”
“Yes, you were.”
“I - sorry. Think away.”
That got him another look. “I was bored and there was all this stuff and I wanted to see if I could. Use liquorice like that, I mean. And then you went and got carried away too and I’ve been wondering so long and well, yeah.”
Remus blinked at him and felt a smile start somewhere in his belly. “You’ve been wondering?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Me, too. Well, not about confectionary bondage so much as about you and kissing and-”
He was cut off by Sirius’ lips. With a bubbling sense of relief he kissed him back.
Sirius pulled away and grinned at him. “I really do have a crate of chocolate.”
“It can wait until after we have a shower,” Remus said and punched Sirius lightly when he mock-swooned.
Sirius thumped him back and that led to wrestling all over the bed which really was much more fun naked. Even when bits of liquorice glued you to your opponent. Remus ended up on top and he squirmed comfortably into place. Sirius grabbed his wrist and began to nibble at the liquorice.
“Shame about the jelly babies,” Remus said, eyeing the gooey pile by his pillows. “Looks like Arsenal lost.”
Sirius grinned at him, his lips stained black. “I’m got another ten bags. There’s plenty of time for a rematch.”
“Good,” said Remus and kissed him.
He tasted like liquorice.
Rating: NC-17/18/Mature
Warnings: Um, foodplay, mild bondage, frottage, jelly babies. Fellow diabetics may be traumatised ;)
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them and my own characters are too modest.
Wordcount: 2857
Author's Note: The title is from Wordsworth but he really didn't mean it like this. I am insane and when I started writing this had just started an incredibly austere new diet (the only sweet thing I'm allowed to eat now is fruit). Sirius has no excuse. Arsenal lost the FA Cup to Ipswich Town in 1978. Sirius blamed Remus.
Summary: It's Easter Monday, Sirius thinks Remus is revising too much and Honeydukes has a sale. Standalone crack fic.
There was something thin and sticky wrapped around his wrists.
And Sirius Black was humming.
Remus hadn’t even woken up properly yet and he already knew it was going to be one of those days. He opened his eyes carefully. Nothing looked wrong. He could see the canopy of his bed, complete with the burn marks from that time Sirius had got excited by Muggle fireworks. He could hear the birds singing outside the window. He could smell…
…liquorice?
Warily, he turned his head to the side. His arms were indeed wrapped in layers of thin black strips. He was coated in them from his elbows to his wrists which were-
“Sirius!”
“Morning!” Sirius’ head appeared in his view, split by an enormous grin. “Morning, morning, morning.”
Remus glared and tried to pull free.
“Don’t move!” Sirius barked and then grinned again.
Oh, god. Why him? Why couldn’t James have stayed for the holidays? This wouldn’t happen to James. Or even Peter. Peter was too fat for this to work.
“Sirius!”
“Remus,” Sirius said and disappeared again. “Hang on. I need switch to strawberry for your legs.”
“Sirius, I’m tied to the bed with liquorice bootlaces!”
“Yup.”
Remus closed his eyes, counted to ten and hoped he would wake up in the meantime.
“By the way,” Sirius said from somewhere near the foot of the bed. “Don’t bother trying to break free. I’ve hidden all your clothes.”
“What!” Remus yelped. “Sirius, I have to go to the library! It’s only a few weeks until NEWTs and I have to revise!”
Sirius leant over him again, his face serious. “That’s why I hid your clothes.”
“NEWTs!”
“You won’t get to take them at all if you die of nerves first. Now lie still and don’t breathe so hard. I need your chest.”
His chest? Where the fuck had his pyjama jacket gone? A quick wriggle reassured him that he still had his pyjama bottoms on but also sent a twinge through him that reminded him that he was a teenage boy and he’d just woken up and there was no way Sirius hadn’t noticed that.
Sirius slapped his hand onto Remus’ chest and said, “Still! How many players on a football team?”
“Eleven. What?”
“Damn. I’ve got twenty-four. The others will have to be refs.”
Remus darted a panicked look at the door. Surely, he didn’t mean real football players?
Reaching into a bag on the nightstand, Sirius pulled out a red jelly baby. He licked its feet and then, frowning thoughtfully, stuck it just above Remus’ right nipple.
“I was going to do a Quidditch pitch,” he said, sounding wistful, “but I couldn’t find anything for the goalposts.”
Remus stared down at the jelly baby and then up at Sirius. This was insane. This was absolutely fucking insane. This was, well, fairly typical Sirius behaviour. In a deeply insane way. Sirius placed another jelly baby, leaning forward until his hair brushed Remus’ belly. Remus twitched and tried to surreptiously shift his legs enough to hide his growing erection.
“Don’t you dare!” Sirius said and dived for his ankles. Remus tried his best to wriggle free but it was hard without the use of his hands. Before he knew it Sirius had stripped his pyjama bottoms off and was wrapping strawberry laces around his ankles. Remus tried to buck him off but it was too late.
He closed his eyes and whimpered. What happened if a house elf came in? Or, worse, a teacher. He could just imagine it - Why am I naked and tied up with confectionary, Professor McGonagall? Well, that’s a very interesting question. Actually, he could just say, Sirius did it, and he’d be excused. Then, however, he’d have to put up with weeks of reproachful stares and veiled allusions and he’d have to explain to James, who would understand that Sirius was insane, and Peter, who would make comments.
“You knocked Arsenal over.”
“Sorry,” Remus managed and then squeaked as Sirius pressed his hips down firmly.
“Stay still.”
“I apologise. I wasn’t designed to be a football pitch.”
Sirius snickered and patted his hip. “Wembley. Cup Final.”
“The things you know about Muggles never cease to amaze me.”
“Arsenal fan. Even pisses Kreacher off.” Then he curled around Remus’ side and whispered in his ear, “I always knew you got off on chocolate, Moony, mate.”
“I don’t see any chocolate,” Remus said. All he had to do was pretend that this was perfectly normal. Then he would be fine.
“Chocolate comes later,” Sirius said and slid away again. Remus could feel his warm weight move down his side. He opened his eyes. It was worse not to know.
Sirius was kneeling over his hips, rearranging the jelly babies. Every time he shifted the soft denim of his jeans rubbed against Remus’ bare skin. Remus wondered if he should warn him that the jelly babies would get a nasty surprise if he didn’t stop. He decided not to. It would serve him right.
He still found it fascinating how Sirius could get so absorbed in something. His eyes shone and his lips pursed and the weight of his full attention could feel like a blow or a flame. Nobody else had that same quality of concentration. If only he could apply it to something else. Someone else. Not him. Or, okay, yes, him but as something more than a landscape to mount jelly babies on.
Sirius pushed his hair back behind his ears and cocked his head, considering. Then he settled back on his haunches. “Done.”
“Congratulations. Now what?”
“We eat chocolate.”
Remus blinked. “Why?”
“It’s Easter Monday. That’s what normal people do on Easter Monday. Eat chocolate.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “We weren’t allowed. My mother said it was a Muggle superstition. She wouldn’t even let Father draw faces on our boiled eggs.”
He looked forlorn that Remus almost forgot that he was so hard it was starting to hurt. “Sirius,” he said gently. “We haven’t got any chocolate.”
“I bought some,” Sirius said. “Before you were even awake. I went down to the village and Honeydukes have a sale on Easter Eggs. So I bought some and I had some space left in the crate so I bought this other stuff too. I thought we could spend the day together and eat chocolate, only it means you can’t go to the library and leave me alone. With all the chocolate, I mean.”
Remus’ brain had stuck on the word crate. He struggled to catch up. “Why have I got jelly babies playing football on my chest?”
Sirius brightened. “You were still asleep when I got back - you’re a right lazy bastard when there’s no lessons. I didn’t want to start without you and I was bored so I decided to strip you and tie you to the bed.”
In terms of Sirius-logic, that almost made sense. Almost.
“Don’t you think that was a little inappropriate, Sirius?” It was the best prefect-voice he could manage, under the circumstances, and it came out more than a little breathy.
Sirius looked down and said, “I thought it was funny. Do you mind?”
He looked so dejected that the protest died in Remus’ throat. He’d seen so little happiness from Sirius lately. The war and the wide world waiting beyond Hogwarts and the way people looked at him and whispered all meant he had veered from wild to sullen for months. If it took decorating Remus with confectionary to make him smile again he really didn’t mind. He wanted Sirius to be happy.
“I don’t mind,” he said gently. “Feels a bit funny but I don’t mind.”
Sirius didn’t say anything. Remus, worried, managed to pull himself up enough to see him. Sirius was still looking down but something had changed in his posture. All that fierce concentration had rushed back over him and Remus could hear his breath quickening.
“Sirius?” he whispered.
Sirius looked up at him. His eyes were wide and dark. He blinked at Remus and then wet his lips. Remus felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched the tip of Sirius’ tongue move across his lips. Then Sirius very deliberately looked down again.
Oh, god, Sirius was staring at his cock.
Remus tugged frantically against the liquorice. This wasn’t fair. How many feet of the bloody stuff had he used, anyway?
“Moony,” Sirius said and his voice was very soft. He put his hands on Remus’ hips again, steadying him. “Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“And whose fault would that be?” Remus demanded and, damn it, he wasn’t panicking because this was just one of Sirius’ stupid pranks.
Sirius stroked his hip, a gentle quiver of fingertips, and Remus couldn’t stop the breath from rushing out of him. He told himself it wasn’t a moan. It wasn’t.
Sirius scrambled off the bed. “I’ll get my wand,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Remus pulled himself up as much as he could, trying to get his breath back. Sirius was backing away from him, tense with worry.
“Not hurt,” he managed.
“You moaned,” Sirius said, sharp and almost angry.
Remus met his gaze, biting his lip. He saw the moment when Sirius got it, the way his eyes widened and his lips curved into a grin.
“You moaned,” he said again.
“I did,” Remus said and his voice had gone husky without his permission.
Sirius smiled, in that slow lazy way that usually meant singing cutlery and dungbombs in the laundry room and turkey dinners that grew wings and flew away. Without breaking his gaze, he slowly began to pull his t-shirt over his head.
Remus squeaked.
Sirius let the t-shirt slide out of his hand and smirked. “Tell me to stop, Moony.”
“I-” He couldn’t. He couldn’t. All he could do was stare because Sirius was slim and proud and the morning light through the window washed him with gold.
And he was skinny and scarred and had jelly babies stuck all over him. He let his hips fall back and felt his shoulders slump.
“Moony?” Sirius said, his fingers pausing on the buttons of his jeans. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Remus said but his common sense was beginning to flood back. What were they doing?
Sirius shoved his jeans off in one quick motion and launched himself at the bed. He propped himself up over Remus, studying him. Remus felt his breath quicken again and closed his eyes. This was wrong. This was so wrong.
“Remus,” Sirius said gently and damn him for not always being an insensitive wanker. “What’s wrong?”
Remus should have said everything and ended this before it got any more out of hand. Instead he heard himself say, “You’re beautiful.”
“I know,” Sirius said. “And?”
He felt his mouth curve into a wry smile. “I’m not.”
“Twat,” Sirius said and kissed him.
He tasted of liquorice, hot and sweet. Remus closed his eyes and kissed him back because - oh, because-
He couldn’t move his arms. He pulled against the liquorice, pressing up. He wanted to bring his arms down and wrap them around Sirius and hold on so tight the liquorice glued them together. He arched again and Sirius moaned and pressed down against him.
He could feel the hardness pressing down on him, feel the heat of Sirius’ skin against his. Then Sirius groaned and resettled himself. Remus felt the head of Sirius’ cock nudge through the slit in his drawers and gave up struggling. Instead he rocked up, moving himself against Sirius. If this was the only way he could touch him he was going to make it good.
His skin was awash with heat, prickling wherever they touched. Sirius’ kisses were sloppy and he had grabbed Remus’ ear and was twisting it in a way which really would have hurt if anything could hurt right now.
Then Sirius pulled away.
Remus whined and opened his eyes. Sirius was staring at him, his eyes wild. His hair had tumbled down around his face and his lips were swollen. As Remus stared at him, a squashed jelly baby dropped off his chest. Remus felt it hit and gulped.
Sirius took a ragged breath and sat back. Remus tried to follow him and this time it hurt when the liquorice pulled his arms down. He couldn’t keep his hips still, just kept pushing, trying to touch Sirius.
The other boy put his hand on Remus’ shoulder, gently, and then began to pluck the jelly babies off his chest, dropping them beside the pillow. Remus couldn’t hold back the shudder as each one tugged free.
“Sirius?” Come back, please. Please, please, please.
The last jelly baby plopped down by his ear and Sirius ran his fingers down his own chest, knocking two very squashed midfielders into his palm. He shoved them into his mouth and shuffled down the bed.
“Sirius!”
There was a sharp sting as the liquorice left his ankles. Remus moaned in relief and curled his leg up, trying to encourage Sirius to come back.
Sirius patted his knee and crawled back along the bed, wriggling out of his drawers. Remus kicked at the mattress, pushing himself up because he had to see. Sirius met his gaze and, damn him, now he looked hesitant.
I want this, you prat, Remus wanted to say. Isn’t it obvious? Haven’t you noticed me looking? Didn’t you know?
All he could managed was, “Sirius.”
And he looked down. Now he understood why Sirius had been silenced. It was such a strange thing to see, someone else’s erection. Did he look like that from this angle? He managed a breath and sorted the words out in his head so he could actually say them.
“Sirius?”
“Remus?”
“I want to touch.”
Sirius threw himself forward again and kissed Remus’ ear wildly before scrabbling at his wrists. Remus wrapped his legs up around Sirius’ hips and began to move, feeling Sirius break the liquorice, strand by strand. Remus could feel the press of Sirius’ cock against his and rocked up harder. Sirius’ breath was uneven and Remus could tell that he was jerking at the liquorice, made clumsy.
“Fuck, Remus. Oh, fuck. I thought, fuck, I thought that I hadn’t thought and you might think… Bollocks!”
He left wrist was free and Remus dragged his hand down Sirius’ back, trailing threads of liquorice.
“Sirius?”
“Uh?”
“Stop thinking.”
“’Kay.”
Remus grinned into Sirius’ shoulder and pushed his hand between their bodies, wrapping it around both their cocks. They were both slick and his hand slid in the sweat dripping off both their bellies.
Sirius moaned and thrust forward. Remus sighed and slid his thumb across their slick heads.
“Fuck! Oh!” Sirius reared up and came, bucking against his hand. Remus pulled hard enough to snap the last threads around his right wrist, wrapped himself around Sirius and rocked with him until heat flashed through him.
It was a while before he could move. He was warm and Sirius was a welcome weight. Moving meant cleaning up and talking and other awkward things. He’d rather stay like this, stinking of sex and Sirius and sugar.
“Moony?”
Sirius was mumbling in his ear but Remus recognised the sheepish tone and sighed. “Padfoot.”
“I only meant to stop you revising.”
“I’d say you managed that.” If Sirius said the word mistake Remus was going to choke himself to death. With chocolate.
Sirius sat up slightly and looked down at him, eyes wide. “I think that sometimes I, you know, get a bit carried away.”
“You don’t say.”
Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that. Don’t you go off somewhere in your head and be sarcastic at me. I’m trying to think.”
“I wasn’t-”
“Yes, you were.”
“I - sorry. Think away.”
That got him another look. “I was bored and there was all this stuff and I wanted to see if I could. Use liquorice like that, I mean. And then you went and got carried away too and I’ve been wondering so long and well, yeah.”
Remus blinked at him and felt a smile start somewhere in his belly. “You’ve been wondering?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Me, too. Well, not about confectionary bondage so much as about you and kissing and-”
He was cut off by Sirius’ lips. With a bubbling sense of relief he kissed him back.
Sirius pulled away and grinned at him. “I really do have a crate of chocolate.”
“It can wait until after we have a shower,” Remus said and punched Sirius lightly when he mock-swooned.
Sirius thumped him back and that led to wrestling all over the bed which really was much more fun naked. Even when bits of liquorice glued you to your opponent. Remus ended up on top and he squirmed comfortably into place. Sirius grabbed his wrist and began to nibble at the liquorice.
“Shame about the jelly babies,” Remus said, eyeing the gooey pile by his pillows. “Looks like Arsenal lost.”
Sirius grinned at him, his lips stained black. “I’m got another ten bags. There’s plenty of time for a rematch.”
“Good,” said Remus and kissed him.
He tasted like liquorice.