hp fic // resistance is futile [remus/sirius, r]
title: Resistance is futile
author: crooked
pairing: Remus/Sirius
rating: R
word count: 3132
summary:Some blokes handle temptation well enough. Remus Lupin has never been counted among that lot.
disclaimer: Not mine.
a/n: written for round one of the rs_games. prompt: "The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it." -Oscar Wilde
resistance is futile
Some blokes handle temptation well enough. Remus Lupin has never been counted among that lot. If he has already had five clotted cream biscuits, and there is one left on the plate, Remus cannot walk away; he has the sixth one simply because it's there. When James passes him the bottle of Ogden's Finest, even if he's already far too sloshed to see straight, Remus takes one more swig because the neck of the bottle is already pressed into his palm. Biscuits and firewhiskey are indulgences Remus knows he can wallow in and yet still face himself in the morning - Sirius Black, on the other hand, is not.
It starts out innocent enough, as these things are wont to do. James is off with Peter, plotting against Lily Evans in yet another attempt to win the girl's heart. Sixth year is his year, as James like to crow, but it's June, and time is running out so he's getting increasingly desperate. He's cooked up a doomed-to-fail double date scenario with Peter and a Hufflepuff bird who happens to be chummy with Lily.
Meanwhile, Sirius, ever the progressive wizard, gets the sudden urge to express his need to feel unrestricted and unfettered by societal confines. Which means he's walking around the dorm completely starkers, his towel discarded the moment he returned from the showers. He blathers on and on about feeling free with his bits exposed to the world, while Remus tries his hardest to ignore both Sirius and his bits. Remus had been trying to get his Charms work done but now his eyes keep trailing off the paper and lingering on Sirius' thighs - and the space between. It's not as if he's never seen Sirius naked before; it's almost distressing the level of nudity the Marauders often find themselves engaged in. But he's never before felt like tackling the boy to the floor, stripping his own clothes off, and grinding against him until Sirius moans his name.
As his face flushes from thought, Remus lifts his textbook higher and hopes Sirius is too caught up in his tangent on the evils of polyester to notice. These feelings have slowly crept up on Remus over the past several weeks, Sirius becoming the biggest temptation (and one he can never act on because it's Sirius) he's ever had to grapple with, and things are only getting worse.
Remus sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair. All four boys are staying at Peter's house for the last two weeks of the summer hols. If Sirius keeps this up, it's going to be the longest two weeks of Remus' life.
---
It's too hot for anything other than taking a swim, and the lake behind Peter's house is perfect. No squid to push tentacles into places tentacles ought not be, James points out helpfully as the four boys trek down the grassy knoll that ends at the lake's easternmost shore. In the distance, they can see the dock that extends out into the deep blue waters. The boys are already stripped down to their swim shorts, towels draped around their necks, so they trudge on in the blistering mid-day heat, the temperature already cooler just by being nearer to the water.
Sirius is the first one to start running. He always is. He reaches the dock and drops his towel somewhere in the high grass several metres back; he never uses the bloody thing anyway. He either shakes the water out like the dog he is, or he lays in the sun and gets burnt. Sirius never learns. (Sadly, Remus thinks, that is part of his charm.)
He's behaved rather well so far. It's five days into their stay at Peter's house, and Sirius has only broken three dishes, hidden all of Peter's pants, and elbowed his way into everyone's bed at least once. As long as this laundry list may seem, Remus has to admit that it's a vast improvement for his friend. More importantly, Remus' concerns about Sirius' nakedness appear to have been unfounded so far. Though, the swim today brings it all rushing back with the prospect of impromptu skinny-dipping. Sirius seems to have given up on his new nudist lifestyle, and Remus will have to remember to send Mrs Pettigrew flowers later (for it's surely her presence that's made all the difference). His inability to resist temptation hasn't gone untested - because just having Sirius around is enticement enough - but Remus is starting to think he might just be able to ride this one out.
"OI, LAST ONE IN IS A TWAT," Sirius yells out, disrupting Remus' thoughts as he runs full-speed toward the end of the dock. He launches himself off, curling into a ball and landing in the lake with a huge splash. James and Peter look at one another, and start running at the same time, James shoving at Peter to slow him down. Remus already knows he's destined to be 'the twat'. It's him every time, and Sirius always makes a fuss at the lack of Marauderian effort. (Making up words is yet another part of his puzzling and infuriating charm.)
So Remus takes his time, picking up Sirius' towel, folding it over his arm as he walks out onto the dock. Sirius is glaring at him, he can feel it, and James and Peter are racing out to the line of buoys out in the distance. Remus sees Sirius get out of the water, dripping angrily (if that is even possible, and Remus thinks if anyone can do it Sirius can) as he stalks toward him.
"Are you a Marauder or a mouse, Lupin?" Sirius asks, hands on his hips and looking far too much like Mrs Pettigrew when Peter tracks mud across her kitchen floor.
Remus just presses a hand into Sirius' chest, forcing himself not to let his palm linger too long, and moves past him. "Squeak," he deadpans, not needing to turn around to know that Sirius is glaring at the back of his head. He walks to the edge of the dock and dives into the water, lithe body curved into a graceful arc completely unlike the body that flies in moments after him, curled into a ball and making the biggest splash possible.
Remus comes up sputtering and gasping, wet fringe clinging to his face and covering his eyes. "Fucking- SIRIUS."
"You wish," Sirius jokes, voice low and teasing as he seems to appear at Remus' side out of nowhere. He doesn't know how close to home he's hit. Remus is glad for the hair mostly blocking Sirius' view of his face because he's just turned the most amazing shade of bright pink.
"Shut up, you arse. James is more my type, if I was queer." It's easy to lie, always has been for Remus because that's just a part of life when afflicted with lycanthropy. He doesn't think it'd be proper to ask his friends to accept that as well.
James stops drowning Peter long enough to look over and grin triumphantly at Sirius. "Finally, someone with a lick of sense." Peter bobs up from beneath the water, simultaneously panting and laughing. James takes the time to press him down again, then turns his focus on Remus. "You, my dear, have excellent taste."
Sirius splashes at James and he goes back to ending Peter's life. Remus is honestly beginning to worry. Unfortunately (for Peter), Sirius wades a bit too close so that their knees knock together and Remus is utterly distracted. Before Remus can do it himself, Sirius reaches over and pushes his hair back off his face.
"There," he says, and Remus laughs, the sound somewhere between nervous and bloody more nervous. Sirius' little grin almost makes it seem like he's happy to have a better look at Remus' face but Remus tells himself that's the most ridiculous thought he's ever had. Well, he wants to tell himself that. He can't, not with Sirius so close and the beads of water on his bottom lip begging to be licked off. He can't think of much at the moment, and then suddenly Sirius is swimming over to join the fray with James and Peter.
Remus sighs, tilts his head back and kicks his feet up until he's floating on his back, staring at the bright blue of the sky and listening to his mates' ruckus just a few metres away. Last summer he might have joined them, splashing and wrestling, but this summer is different. This summer he can't risk Sirius grabbing him from behind because he'd like it too much, and wouldn't that be embarrassing? This summer Remus is simply too infatuated with Sirius; the boy is nothing but temptation personified.
---
"Padfoot."
Remus' voice is soft and the brush of his fingertips along the back of Sirius' shoulder is even softer, and it lulls Sirius out of his sleep. He twists to look up at Remus, and he hisses as his sunburnt skin resists, too tight and sore. He lets out a soft curse, laying his cheek back against the rough wood of the dock below.
"Oh god, why did you let me fall asleep?" he asks Remus groggily. It's quiet around them, and Remus has to wonder if Sirius has noticed that James and Peter are gone. It's never this quiet unless at least half of the four of them are sleeping. "Where's Prongs and Wormtail? What- what time is it?" Sirius cracks one eye, and Remus sees him glancing around as best he can. The surface of the water is barely rippling, and the sun is starting to dip toward the horizon. There's no-one around except for the two of them. Remus leans over Sirius' back and peers at his reddened skin with a small frown.
"Sorry, but I didn't want to bother you," he says, his voice still quiet as if he's concerned about waking someone else. He reaches out and pokes at Sirius' back, and Sirius curses low under his breath.
"Remus! Come on, what the hell."
Remus just chuckles quietly. "Right, sorry. James and Pete went back to the house. They were complaining of starvation. And I've got some cream to help you with that." Before Sirius can ask just where he was hiding this cream since they'd only come out to the lake with their towels, Remus mutters 'accio bag' and a duffel eventually finds its way to his outstretched hand. It's the one Remus set on the back porch as they left Peter's house. Sirius glances over his shoulder at Remus, his false spontaneity making Sirius grin but just barely since his back probably feels like it's about to split wide open.
"You planned to get me sunburnt and at your mercy?" he asks, wincing as Remus gently pushes him flat to the wooden planks.
"Shut up," Remus mutters with a smile. He uncaps the aloe cream and he can see Sirius tense in anticipation, the lines of muscle in his back tightening. "I just know that you always fall asleep after we have a swim, and that no-one quite manages to reach that shade of lobster red like you."
Remus doesn't wait for Sirius to reply, maybe because he doesn't want him to realise that Remus pays attention to his habits so closely. He squeezes out a shapeless pattern of aloe lotion on Sirius' back and gently smoothes his palms over his skin. He hears Sirius hiss beneath him, jumping slightly at Remus' touch. Remus bites his bottom lip, murmuring sorry, mate, sorry as his hands work over Sirius shoulder blades and down the curve of his spine. He feels Sirius relax a bit more beneath his palms, and the boy presses his cheek back down to the weathered surface of the dock.
"You notice those things?" Sirius asks after a while, his voice barely above a whisper as Remus smoothes aloe cream over the backs of his thighs, working down to his calves. Remus tries to tell himself the touches are innocent but he knows better, knows what the tightening in his belly means, knows why each breath seems harder and harder to pull into his lungs.
Remus shrugs, even though Sirius can't see it. "Yeah. I notice a lot of things, Padfoot."
There must have been something in the way Remus said the words because suddenly Sirius is twisting around, staring up at him with an odd look in his eyes. Remus doesn't stop to think, on autopilot as he runs his hands over Sirius' shoulders, palms moving down his chest, fingertips brushing along Sirius' nipples and making him shiver. Sirius' hands come up to grip his arms as Remus trails his fingertips over Sirius' belly. Remus' mind is swimming with questions - Has Sirius been wanting this as much as he has? Is this a cruel prank and is James hiding in the bushes with a camera? Since bloody when is Sirius a poof? - but before he can even begin to ask any, he feels Sirius shift beneath his hands and, oh, this is really happening.
Sirius leans in first, almost until their lips touch but stopping just short. (Remus almost wonders why it's always Sirius first but the way Sirius' grey eyes widen just a bit before closing makes Remus bloody forget his own name.) Remus finally allows himself to yield to the temptation that's been eating at him for longer than he can remember. Sirius' lips feel like silk against Remus' mouth, and he can't be arsed to think about how much that sounds like a line straight from the pages of the novels his mum reads. Not that he's read them. Point is, Remus liked it. A lot. He'd always thought kissing Sirius would be like kissing a hurricane - getting caught up, thrashed about, and possibly quite wet. But this? Oh, this.
He presses forward, a hand curling around the back of Sirius' neck, and Sirius moans. Remus goes light-headed but the fingers gripping his hip and curled around his bicep keep him grounded. Sirius' tongue slides against his as Remus pushes him back down, both boys forgetting about Sirius' sunburn. Sirius hisses slightly, arching up, and Remus winds one arm around his waist, holding Sirius off the dock. His other hand glides down Sirius' stomach, over his hip, and pushes into Sirius' swim shorts. Sirius gasps against his mouth as Remus' hand curves over his thigh, rubs over his arse and back up to his hip again.
Remus reluctantly breaks their kiss to shuffle back onto his knees, hastily yanking Sirius' shorts down, breath hitching at the sight of him. He struggles with his own swim shorts, kicking them away and then pressing back down on top of Sirius. Their gasps and moans mingle together as skin meets skin, lips clash, hands roam. Remus kisses along Sirius' jaw and down his throat, sucking gently on his Adam's apple as Sirius' fingers push into his hair, tangle around the tawny strands. He moves down further, lips ghosting over Sirius' collarbone, tongue swirling into the hollow of his throat, fingers inching along Sirius' inner thigh.
"Oh fuck, Remus," Sirius gasps, his voice so low that Remus isn't sure he didn't imagine it. He presses open-mouthed kisses into Sirius' belly, tempted to go beyond the soft curve beneath his bellybutton but unsure of himself, of how far Sirius really wants this to go. He kisses his way back up to Sirius' mouth, swallowing Sirius' soft moan and pulling him up into a sitting position. The way Sirius breathes his name against the shell of Remus' ear - like he's begging for more, like he's been wanting this for as long as Remus has, like he's been wanting it every bit as much - leaves little room for any further doubt in Remus' mind.
He presses his face against the curve of Sirius' neck, panting against the skin, and reaches a hand down between their bodies. Sirius tips his head back and lets out a high-pitched whimper as Remus' fingers curl, stroke slowly, lips tracing the line where neck and shoulder meet. He wants to take his time with Sirius, to savour the moment that he's dreamt about, fantasised about while hiding behind scarlet curtains and touching himself. But Remus finds his hand speeding up, elbow jerking frantically each time Sirius moans, gasps, cries out.
Remus can actually feel Sirius start to move closer to the edge, his breath stuttering more and more, body tensing, arms winding tighter around Remus' neck as he desperately clings to him. He murmurs softly to Sirius, lips moving against Sirius' skin, so delirious with his own ecstasy and arousal that he isn't even sure what he's saying.
And it doesn't matter because suddenly Sirius' fingers are digging into his shoulders, Remus feels his hips thrust up sharply, and Sirius cries out a soft, choked moan as he comes over Remus' fist. He holds Sirius tight to his chest with one hand splayed between his shoulder blades, stroking slower and slower with the other until Sirius stops bucking softly beneath him. Sirius holds even tighter to Remus, pressing so close that not even air can pass between them, their long limbs twisted and tangled as they sit together.
"Oh god," Remus whispers, and he pulls back a touch. Sirius' face is flushed, his eyes still closed as he just tries to breathe, and his hair has fallen across his face. In short, he's ridiculously gorgeous in ways a boy should never be. Remus isn't sure if it's madness or brilliance that has led him to this point but, as Sirius leans forward and softly kisses the corner of his mouth, he pledges to thank whichever one it ends up being.
"Yeah. I don't even-" Sirius pauses to look down almost shyly, shaking his head. "- what the hell was in that lotion, Moony?"
Remus laughs and falls forward, touching his forehead to Sirius' and closing his eyes. "Dunno," he shrugs, drawing his hand up the centre of Sirius' back. Sirius shudders and hums happily. "But I'm damn sure going to keep a supply at the ready from now on."
An easy silence falls between them, and Remus is surprised at how quickly his unasked questions melt away. He doesn't care if Sirius is just experimenting; it doesn't matter if Sirius fancies him; Remus doesn't care if it's just something that felt good at the time. All that matters is the way Sirius is pulling him close again, pressing kisses into Remus' shoulder, murmuring your turn as his fingers slide up Remus' thigh.
Resisting temptation, Remus decides as he curls his fingers into Sirius' hair, isn't all that important a trait in the grand scheme of things.
author: crooked
pairing: Remus/Sirius
rating: R
word count: 3132
summary:Some blokes handle temptation well enough. Remus Lupin has never been counted among that lot.
disclaimer: Not mine.
a/n: written for round one of the rs_games. prompt: "The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it." -Oscar Wilde
resistance is futile
Some blokes handle temptation well enough. Remus Lupin has never been counted among that lot. If he has already had five clotted cream biscuits, and there is one left on the plate, Remus cannot walk away; he has the sixth one simply because it's there. When James passes him the bottle of Ogden's Finest, even if he's already far too sloshed to see straight, Remus takes one more swig because the neck of the bottle is already pressed into his palm. Biscuits and firewhiskey are indulgences Remus knows he can wallow in and yet still face himself in the morning - Sirius Black, on the other hand, is not.
It starts out innocent enough, as these things are wont to do. James is off with Peter, plotting against Lily Evans in yet another attempt to win the girl's heart. Sixth year is his year, as James like to crow, but it's June, and time is running out so he's getting increasingly desperate. He's cooked up a doomed-to-fail double date scenario with Peter and a Hufflepuff bird who happens to be chummy with Lily.
Meanwhile, Sirius, ever the progressive wizard, gets the sudden urge to express his need to feel unrestricted and unfettered by societal confines. Which means he's walking around the dorm completely starkers, his towel discarded the moment he returned from the showers. He blathers on and on about feeling free with his bits exposed to the world, while Remus tries his hardest to ignore both Sirius and his bits. Remus had been trying to get his Charms work done but now his eyes keep trailing off the paper and lingering on Sirius' thighs - and the space between. It's not as if he's never seen Sirius naked before; it's almost distressing the level of nudity the Marauders often find themselves engaged in. But he's never before felt like tackling the boy to the floor, stripping his own clothes off, and grinding against him until Sirius moans his name.
As his face flushes from thought, Remus lifts his textbook higher and hopes Sirius is too caught up in his tangent on the evils of polyester to notice. These feelings have slowly crept up on Remus over the past several weeks, Sirius becoming the biggest temptation (and one he can never act on because it's Sirius) he's ever had to grapple with, and things are only getting worse.
Remus sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair. All four boys are staying at Peter's house for the last two weeks of the summer hols. If Sirius keeps this up, it's going to be the longest two weeks of Remus' life.
---
It's too hot for anything other than taking a swim, and the lake behind Peter's house is perfect. No squid to push tentacles into places tentacles ought not be, James points out helpfully as the four boys trek down the grassy knoll that ends at the lake's easternmost shore. In the distance, they can see the dock that extends out into the deep blue waters. The boys are already stripped down to their swim shorts, towels draped around their necks, so they trudge on in the blistering mid-day heat, the temperature already cooler just by being nearer to the water.
Sirius is the first one to start running. He always is. He reaches the dock and drops his towel somewhere in the high grass several metres back; he never uses the bloody thing anyway. He either shakes the water out like the dog he is, or he lays in the sun and gets burnt. Sirius never learns. (Sadly, Remus thinks, that is part of his charm.)
He's behaved rather well so far. It's five days into their stay at Peter's house, and Sirius has only broken three dishes, hidden all of Peter's pants, and elbowed his way into everyone's bed at least once. As long as this laundry list may seem, Remus has to admit that it's a vast improvement for his friend. More importantly, Remus' concerns about Sirius' nakedness appear to have been unfounded so far. Though, the swim today brings it all rushing back with the prospect of impromptu skinny-dipping. Sirius seems to have given up on his new nudist lifestyle, and Remus will have to remember to send Mrs Pettigrew flowers later (for it's surely her presence that's made all the difference). His inability to resist temptation hasn't gone untested - because just having Sirius around is enticement enough - but Remus is starting to think he might just be able to ride this one out.
"OI, LAST ONE IN IS A TWAT," Sirius yells out, disrupting Remus' thoughts as he runs full-speed toward the end of the dock. He launches himself off, curling into a ball and landing in the lake with a huge splash. James and Peter look at one another, and start running at the same time, James shoving at Peter to slow him down. Remus already knows he's destined to be 'the twat'. It's him every time, and Sirius always makes a fuss at the lack of Marauderian effort. (Making up words is yet another part of his puzzling and infuriating charm.)
So Remus takes his time, picking up Sirius' towel, folding it over his arm as he walks out onto the dock. Sirius is glaring at him, he can feel it, and James and Peter are racing out to the line of buoys out in the distance. Remus sees Sirius get out of the water, dripping angrily (if that is even possible, and Remus thinks if anyone can do it Sirius can) as he stalks toward him.
"Are you a Marauder or a mouse, Lupin?" Sirius asks, hands on his hips and looking far too much like Mrs Pettigrew when Peter tracks mud across her kitchen floor.
Remus just presses a hand into Sirius' chest, forcing himself not to let his palm linger too long, and moves past him. "Squeak," he deadpans, not needing to turn around to know that Sirius is glaring at the back of his head. He walks to the edge of the dock and dives into the water, lithe body curved into a graceful arc completely unlike the body that flies in moments after him, curled into a ball and making the biggest splash possible.
Remus comes up sputtering and gasping, wet fringe clinging to his face and covering his eyes. "Fucking- SIRIUS."
"You wish," Sirius jokes, voice low and teasing as he seems to appear at Remus' side out of nowhere. He doesn't know how close to home he's hit. Remus is glad for the hair mostly blocking Sirius' view of his face because he's just turned the most amazing shade of bright pink.
"Shut up, you arse. James is more my type, if I was queer." It's easy to lie, always has been for Remus because that's just a part of life when afflicted with lycanthropy. He doesn't think it'd be proper to ask his friends to accept that as well.
James stops drowning Peter long enough to look over and grin triumphantly at Sirius. "Finally, someone with a lick of sense." Peter bobs up from beneath the water, simultaneously panting and laughing. James takes the time to press him down again, then turns his focus on Remus. "You, my dear, have excellent taste."
Sirius splashes at James and he goes back to ending Peter's life. Remus is honestly beginning to worry. Unfortunately (for Peter), Sirius wades a bit too close so that their knees knock together and Remus is utterly distracted. Before Remus can do it himself, Sirius reaches over and pushes his hair back off his face.
"There," he says, and Remus laughs, the sound somewhere between nervous and bloody more nervous. Sirius' little grin almost makes it seem like he's happy to have a better look at Remus' face but Remus tells himself that's the most ridiculous thought he's ever had. Well, he wants to tell himself that. He can't, not with Sirius so close and the beads of water on his bottom lip begging to be licked off. He can't think of much at the moment, and then suddenly Sirius is swimming over to join the fray with James and Peter.
Remus sighs, tilts his head back and kicks his feet up until he's floating on his back, staring at the bright blue of the sky and listening to his mates' ruckus just a few metres away. Last summer he might have joined them, splashing and wrestling, but this summer is different. This summer he can't risk Sirius grabbing him from behind because he'd like it too much, and wouldn't that be embarrassing? This summer Remus is simply too infatuated with Sirius; the boy is nothing but temptation personified.
---
"Padfoot."
Remus' voice is soft and the brush of his fingertips along the back of Sirius' shoulder is even softer, and it lulls Sirius out of his sleep. He twists to look up at Remus, and he hisses as his sunburnt skin resists, too tight and sore. He lets out a soft curse, laying his cheek back against the rough wood of the dock below.
"Oh god, why did you let me fall asleep?" he asks Remus groggily. It's quiet around them, and Remus has to wonder if Sirius has noticed that James and Peter are gone. It's never this quiet unless at least half of the four of them are sleeping. "Where's Prongs and Wormtail? What- what time is it?" Sirius cracks one eye, and Remus sees him glancing around as best he can. The surface of the water is barely rippling, and the sun is starting to dip toward the horizon. There's no-one around except for the two of them. Remus leans over Sirius' back and peers at his reddened skin with a small frown.
"Sorry, but I didn't want to bother you," he says, his voice still quiet as if he's concerned about waking someone else. He reaches out and pokes at Sirius' back, and Sirius curses low under his breath.
"Remus! Come on, what the hell."
Remus just chuckles quietly. "Right, sorry. James and Pete went back to the house. They were complaining of starvation. And I've got some cream to help you with that." Before Sirius can ask just where he was hiding this cream since they'd only come out to the lake with their towels, Remus mutters 'accio bag' and a duffel eventually finds its way to his outstretched hand. It's the one Remus set on the back porch as they left Peter's house. Sirius glances over his shoulder at Remus, his false spontaneity making Sirius grin but just barely since his back probably feels like it's about to split wide open.
"You planned to get me sunburnt and at your mercy?" he asks, wincing as Remus gently pushes him flat to the wooden planks.
"Shut up," Remus mutters with a smile. He uncaps the aloe cream and he can see Sirius tense in anticipation, the lines of muscle in his back tightening. "I just know that you always fall asleep after we have a swim, and that no-one quite manages to reach that shade of lobster red like you."
Remus doesn't wait for Sirius to reply, maybe because he doesn't want him to realise that Remus pays attention to his habits so closely. He squeezes out a shapeless pattern of aloe lotion on Sirius' back and gently smoothes his palms over his skin. He hears Sirius hiss beneath him, jumping slightly at Remus' touch. Remus bites his bottom lip, murmuring sorry, mate, sorry as his hands work over Sirius shoulder blades and down the curve of his spine. He feels Sirius relax a bit more beneath his palms, and the boy presses his cheek back down to the weathered surface of the dock.
"You notice those things?" Sirius asks after a while, his voice barely above a whisper as Remus smoothes aloe cream over the backs of his thighs, working down to his calves. Remus tries to tell himself the touches are innocent but he knows better, knows what the tightening in his belly means, knows why each breath seems harder and harder to pull into his lungs.
Remus shrugs, even though Sirius can't see it. "Yeah. I notice a lot of things, Padfoot."
There must have been something in the way Remus said the words because suddenly Sirius is twisting around, staring up at him with an odd look in his eyes. Remus doesn't stop to think, on autopilot as he runs his hands over Sirius' shoulders, palms moving down his chest, fingertips brushing along Sirius' nipples and making him shiver. Sirius' hands come up to grip his arms as Remus trails his fingertips over Sirius' belly. Remus' mind is swimming with questions - Has Sirius been wanting this as much as he has? Is this a cruel prank and is James hiding in the bushes with a camera? Since bloody when is Sirius a poof? - but before he can even begin to ask any, he feels Sirius shift beneath his hands and, oh, this is really happening.
Sirius leans in first, almost until their lips touch but stopping just short. (Remus almost wonders why it's always Sirius first but the way Sirius' grey eyes widen just a bit before closing makes Remus bloody forget his own name.) Remus finally allows himself to yield to the temptation that's been eating at him for longer than he can remember. Sirius' lips feel like silk against Remus' mouth, and he can't be arsed to think about how much that sounds like a line straight from the pages of the novels his mum reads. Not that he's read them. Point is, Remus liked it. A lot. He'd always thought kissing Sirius would be like kissing a hurricane - getting caught up, thrashed about, and possibly quite wet. But this? Oh, this.
He presses forward, a hand curling around the back of Sirius' neck, and Sirius moans. Remus goes light-headed but the fingers gripping his hip and curled around his bicep keep him grounded. Sirius' tongue slides against his as Remus pushes him back down, both boys forgetting about Sirius' sunburn. Sirius hisses slightly, arching up, and Remus winds one arm around his waist, holding Sirius off the dock. His other hand glides down Sirius' stomach, over his hip, and pushes into Sirius' swim shorts. Sirius gasps against his mouth as Remus' hand curves over his thigh, rubs over his arse and back up to his hip again.
Remus reluctantly breaks their kiss to shuffle back onto his knees, hastily yanking Sirius' shorts down, breath hitching at the sight of him. He struggles with his own swim shorts, kicking them away and then pressing back down on top of Sirius. Their gasps and moans mingle together as skin meets skin, lips clash, hands roam. Remus kisses along Sirius' jaw and down his throat, sucking gently on his Adam's apple as Sirius' fingers push into his hair, tangle around the tawny strands. He moves down further, lips ghosting over Sirius' collarbone, tongue swirling into the hollow of his throat, fingers inching along Sirius' inner thigh.
"Oh fuck, Remus," Sirius gasps, his voice so low that Remus isn't sure he didn't imagine it. He presses open-mouthed kisses into Sirius' belly, tempted to go beyond the soft curve beneath his bellybutton but unsure of himself, of how far Sirius really wants this to go. He kisses his way back up to Sirius' mouth, swallowing Sirius' soft moan and pulling him up into a sitting position. The way Sirius breathes his name against the shell of Remus' ear - like he's begging for more, like he's been wanting this for as long as Remus has, like he's been wanting it every bit as much - leaves little room for any further doubt in Remus' mind.
He presses his face against the curve of Sirius' neck, panting against the skin, and reaches a hand down between their bodies. Sirius tips his head back and lets out a high-pitched whimper as Remus' fingers curl, stroke slowly, lips tracing the line where neck and shoulder meet. He wants to take his time with Sirius, to savour the moment that he's dreamt about, fantasised about while hiding behind scarlet curtains and touching himself. But Remus finds his hand speeding up, elbow jerking frantically each time Sirius moans, gasps, cries out.
Remus can actually feel Sirius start to move closer to the edge, his breath stuttering more and more, body tensing, arms winding tighter around Remus' neck as he desperately clings to him. He murmurs softly to Sirius, lips moving against Sirius' skin, so delirious with his own ecstasy and arousal that he isn't even sure what he's saying.
And it doesn't matter because suddenly Sirius' fingers are digging into his shoulders, Remus feels his hips thrust up sharply, and Sirius cries out a soft, choked moan as he comes over Remus' fist. He holds Sirius tight to his chest with one hand splayed between his shoulder blades, stroking slower and slower with the other until Sirius stops bucking softly beneath him. Sirius holds even tighter to Remus, pressing so close that not even air can pass between them, their long limbs twisted and tangled as they sit together.
"Oh god," Remus whispers, and he pulls back a touch. Sirius' face is flushed, his eyes still closed as he just tries to breathe, and his hair has fallen across his face. In short, he's ridiculously gorgeous in ways a boy should never be. Remus isn't sure if it's madness or brilliance that has led him to this point but, as Sirius leans forward and softly kisses the corner of his mouth, he pledges to thank whichever one it ends up being.
"Yeah. I don't even-" Sirius pauses to look down almost shyly, shaking his head. "- what the hell was in that lotion, Moony?"
Remus laughs and falls forward, touching his forehead to Sirius' and closing his eyes. "Dunno," he shrugs, drawing his hand up the centre of Sirius' back. Sirius shudders and hums happily. "But I'm damn sure going to keep a supply at the ready from now on."
An easy silence falls between them, and Remus is surprised at how quickly his unasked questions melt away. He doesn't care if Sirius is just experimenting; it doesn't matter if Sirius fancies him; Remus doesn't care if it's just something that felt good at the time. All that matters is the way Sirius is pulling him close again, pressing kisses into Remus' shoulder, murmuring your turn as his fingers slide up Remus' thigh.
Resisting temptation, Remus decides as he curls his fingers into Sirius' hair, isn't all that important a trait in the grand scheme of things.