Title: Next Time, Hold the Lace
Author:
crazylittleme @
vnillaFandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex!
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and assorted others own everything. I have nothing but imagination!
Author's notes: For
hateful_regret in the
hp_clover exchange. Hope you enjoy. Some of the references are slightly anachronistic, but for humor's sake I kept them in.
--
"You could try sending him flowers," James suggested.
Sirius gave a deep, long-suffering sigh. "Prongs, contrary to popular belief, gay men are not women."
"And not all women like flowers," Lily put in, not to be outdone.
"I thought you liked the ones I gave you for your birthday!"
"Of course I did, but I don't represent all women."
Sirius groaned and rested his head on his arms as the conversation rapidly degenerated into But you're the only woman for me and James, stop it, really and a loud peck on the cheek and some giggling from Lily. Honestly, new couples were nauseating. Not that Prongs had ever been less than gross, what with that face and all, but here he was suffering, nay, languishing, and they were cooing at each other. Bloody morons. He'd thought Lily had more sense than that.
"Perhaps if we threw a bucket of water on them," Peter mused.
"It's a lost cause, Pete." Sirius sighed. "They'll probably end up married with thousands of kids at this rate. But what am I going to do? Moony's birthday is tomorrow!"
For you see, the cause of all this woe and anguish was simply that, although a creative genius when it came to magic, pranking, and mischief, Sirius Black was simply arse at thinking up gift ideas. Normally he relied on James to prevent him from buying everyone day planners or other such useless things (Sirius had heard of organization but had no truck with it), but this birthday was different. This birthday was for a Significant Other. Not to mention this was also a Coming of Age birthday, and the gift had to be amazing.
"I hate my life," Sirius declared.
--
Only one suggestion struck Sirius as useful, because he was of the opinion that Remus needed to get laid a great deal more, and always by him, naturally. James and Peter had been quick to make excuses to leave the room after Lily said it, though, and absolutely refused to come with him.
"I can't go in there!" he wailed, attempting to pull out of Lily's grasp. Girls had no business being that strong, or looking that gleeful. "Vixen! Vile temptress!"
Lily rolled her eyes. "Sirius, it's only a little lingerie store. You must have noticed it before, you've been to Hogsmeade hundreds of times."
"I stuck to Zonko's and Honeydukes like a sane person!"
"You were never a sane person."
With that, Lily dragged him into the store, which was filled with mysterious lacy things emanating sheer evil. Sirius could feel it threatening to choke him. Lily, black-hearted creature of the night as she was, seemed to feel nothing in particular, though she did pause to murmur appreciatively at some white scrap of fabric with bows on it.
"I don't understand why I need sexy underthings," he muttered, kicking at a stand of horrid bright yellow garments. They rustled smugly at him. "They're just going to come off anyway."
"Yes, but he'll want to take these off especially." Lily beamed, holding up something emerald green. "What do you think?"
Sirius blanched. "I'd never fit into it. And anyway it's frilly!"
"For me, you great dolt."
"I don't want any part in your wicked sexual antics with James. He was saving himself for the One Prank to Rule Them All and then you lured him onto the path of respectability, you wanton trollop." Sirius grinned, warming to the subject and cheering up in spite of himself. "Women wept pitifully in the streets and men drowned their sorrows in liquor when his Head Boy letter came in the mail--"
She made him try on some devious invention called a thong in revenge.
--
Wormtail and Prongs kicked out: check.
Bedknobs charmed to play mood music: check.
Candles: check.
Curtains lit on fire: unfortunate.
Showered and dried: check.
Devastatingly handsome: check.
Sexy underthing: check (ugh).
The door creaked open, and thus entered one Remus J. Lupin, somewhat covered in confetti, which was James' preferred method of greeting anyone with a birthday. He at first noticed the candles (and hopefully not the scent of burnt fabric), and then his gaze turned towards Sirius' bed. His eyes widened.
"Sirius, why are you wearing a black doily?"
"Very expensive lingerie," Sirius corrected him, a trifle indignant. Then, remembering Lily's advice about what was done on such occasions, he flung himself back on the bed, the picture of lustful despair. "Oh, Moony. Take me now." He peeked out of one eye to judge the result.
Remus burst out laughing.
He would kill Li--Evans. He would kill her by strangling her with all her bloody lingerie and Prongs would forgive him after discovering what a deeply horrible person she was on the inside. He should have known that creatures of the opposite sex were not to be trusted, particularly if they had green eyes and the ability to withstand all of his charms. (She had given him detention even after his perfectly brilliant explanation about what exactly he was doing in the Hufflepuff girls' dorm.)
The bedsprings groaned as Remus sat down next to him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Sorry. Sorry, really. I appreciate the lengths you've gone for my birthday." His expression changed to one of puzzlement. "But where did the curtains go?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Sirius mumbled, resisting the urge to curl up into a fetal position. Not only was he humiliated, he had given the worst present in the entire world when it mattered most. He had likely ruined his boyfriend's birthday. Ruined by doily, a fate worse than death.
A hand curled around his, a hand that couldn't possibly be Moony's as he couldn't possibly like a birthday destroyer, which meant that Sirius had finally gone round the twist. "Hey," Remus said, soft enough to make Sirius shiver in spite of his misery. "Don't look so hangdog." Sirius felt a flicker of hope at the pun; he only cracked awful jokes when in a good mood. "I like my present."
When Remus kissed him he made it right, made all the stupid shopping and ridiculous set-up right, because Sirius did it and it was part of him, this going to excess and getting things wrong and then somehow, miraculously, things coming up roses anyway. He was luckier than he deserved to be. It was the story of their relationship, Moony laughing at him, Moony loving him anyway.
Sirius always wanted him to laugh.
Although perhaps not this much.
"That's really going to have to come off," Remus said between snorts. "I'm afraid I can't take you seriously in lace."
Sirius batted his eyelashes. "Then you'll have to be the bride on our wedding day."
Remus only smirked at him and pulled off the wretched doily, long-fingered hands curling around Sirius' cock, and it felt so good that it took several minutes for him to remember who was having the birthday here and say, "No, you first."
"You don't have to--"
Sirius Black was a man of many talents, some of them being: mucking things up, divesting people of clothing, and giving killer blowjobs. The latter two he relied on especially when it came to situations such as this, and very soon Remus was delightfully naked and writhing underneath him, trying not to moan for the sake of the neighbors, not to mention the entirety of Gryffindor. (One of Sirius' greatest pleasures was getting him to forget about propriety for a while, but it always took a bit of doing.)
His taste was hot and heavy in his mouth, like the humidity of an approaching thunderstorm. Sirius watched the muscles of Remus' stomach quiver, the sheen of sweat over so much skin (with too many scars), then closed his eyes to listen to the rapid increase of volume in Remus' sounds, all the while alternating between long, slow licks and the brief flare of his tongue around the head of Remus' cock.
"Oh," Remus gasped, then, "Please--"
This was it, the easy rhythm, the falling, the moment that lingered far longer in Sirius' memory than any orgasm--this moment, right before Remus came, when they were both open and immortal and painfully real somehow. And then Remus did come; Sirius felt his thighs trembling underneath him, one of those little details that seemed of great import.
"You're too good at that," Remus said, and then laughed again, shaky. Sirius decided he loved him. Again. Lots of good things happening over and over.
Then Remus reached down between Sirius' legs to finish what he had begun, and Sirius all the while tried to talk, tried to tell Remus what was going through his head and wishes of a birthday nature even despite the hitching breath and occasional catch in his voice, and it really didn't take long, not with Remus and looking at him like that, like he had more than just Sirius' cock in the palm of his hand, he did, he had everything.
"You," Sirius said, and came.
And for a while they were both content, though Sirius became considerably less so when James walked in and saw the doily on the floor.
He screamed like a little girl and ran out of the room after the first shocked seconds, so Sirius reflected that Lily's ideas could have some merit after all.