FIC: "Private Tutoring" by sethkyne_blue; R/S/H (NC-17)
It was suggested by both xylodemon and seshat1 that I post some ficcy here, so here is one. Next will be up in a bit. :)
Title: Private Tutoring
Author: sethkyne_blue
Pairing(s): Remus/Sirius/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2623
Content: once again…PWP.
Warning(s)/Kink(s): threesome, rimming, mild breath-play
Summary: Um… Sirius, Remus and Harry. On a bed. Clothes start coming off. You get the picture.
Disclaimer: None of them are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s note: AU just to make sure it’s all nice and legal on all participants’ parts. ;)
Acknowledgements: This is a gift-fic for the wonderful irish_lily in thanks for all her great Beta-ing and for just being a kick-ass chick. Thanks to Kat & Erin for helping me brainstorm a title.
X-posted to pervy_werewolf, sirry, sethkyne_blue, quadrashag and venisonsandwich. [Dude... that's a crapload of x-posting! :P]
“Just lift up - that’s right. Let me get your shirt.” A hand cupped his cheek and ear softly. “All right?”
A shiver ran over Harry’s exposed skin. He nodded once, still not quite sure how this had all happened so quickly. A few clumsy, half thought-out overtures on his own part, a conversation heavy with innuendo, and here he was, quite thoroughly caught, on a bed between the two people he most admired at the moment, recently shirtless and embarrassingly hard. Sirius’ hand absently chased patches of gooseflesh up and down the inside of Harry’s right arm.
Remus spoke again, his eyes kind. “Just a word and we’ll stop. Right?”
Harry nodded again and swallowed with difficulty. “Professor-”
“Remus,” Remus corrected gently. “I haven’t been your professor for some time now. Besides,” his smile was amused, but a hungry shadow tinged his expression, “I don’t imagine ‘Professor’ is entirely appropriate considering what we’re about to do.”
There was a quiet laugh from Sirius, who added, “I wouldn’t be so sure. It may be appropriate for part of it.” His thumb was now tracing little figure eights in the soft crease of Harry’s elbow. “You were saying, Harry?”
“I…,” his voice was almost lost in a whisper. Now or never. “I want this.” Had wanted. Needed. For far too long. He reached out to follow the angled edge of Sirius’ jaw, to stroke through the soft black hair.
Sirius leaned into Harry’s hand, his eyes closing, a faint flush washing across his cheeks.
“Sirius.” The word was an insight, an acknowledgement of all Sirius was in that moment of discovery: his scent and textures, the race of his heart, the warmth and weight of him.
The kiss took them both by surprise, neither one honestly sure later who leaned in first. There was a quick battle of tongues and teeth before they found their common ground: Harry, both enthusiastic and shy, eager to please; Sirius, tentative, nervous, but finding himself greedier for Harry’s skin the longer their mouths stayed locked.
They broke away at last, Sirius’ eyes naked and dark, and Harry understood with a shock that he was looking at Sirius; not his godfather, but the man himself. Something very close to fear squeezed Harry’s chest as his gaze locked with Sirius’, much as their mouths had done just moments before.
The fear grew into jagged spikes of panic until a reassuring hand settled at the base of his neck. Harry glanced away to see Remus doing the same to Sirius with his other hand. Some of the wildness left the grey eyes then, and Harry felt himself relax as Remus kneaded along the base of his skull.
“He’s nothing if not a trifle intense,” Remus remarked with humour. “Ease back, Padfoot. You’ll scare him.”
“Too late,” Harry said with a shaky laugh.
Remus smiled and slid his fingers into Harry’s hair. It made Harry want to loll and purr as fingertips slowly rubbed his scalp. “Mmm…”
“Mmm.” The sound was repeated by Remus rather unexpectedly close to his ear. “You like that, Harry?” a low voice whispered.
“Mmm - ah!” Harry melted as a curious mouth fastened at his throat. Lips, tongue, and the keen press of teeth found their slow, wet way beneath his jaw. “Oh.” And this was Remus - warm and insistent and smelling of wool and faint aftershave.
Harry soon found another hand in his hair, Sirius then, angular body a close line along his side. There was another flutter of not-quite-fear, but this time he embraced it, let the buzz ride through his body like water. “God,” Harry murmured.
Sirius’ other hand was again making figure eights, this time along the zip of Harry’s jeans. “Oh, Harry.” Sirius’ lips moved against Harry’s temple as his hand followed the contours of Harry’s erection.
Harry’s mind boggled. Their fingers, their mouths - they felt so damn good. All Sirius needed to do was press a bit harder, just a half-dozen times, and Harry knew he’d be coming spectacularly in his jeans. But Sirius wasn’t pressing harder, and perhaps that was the most significant part.
Remus placed a careful kiss at the edge of Harry’s lips. “Ready, Harry?”
“Er…oh. Yes, Pro- Remus.” The name felt odd in his mouth and he blushed.
He heard answering amusement in Remus’ voice. “You need to trust us now, Harry. I want you to listen to what I say and follow my instructions just as I tell you. Can you do that?”
“I…yes, Remus.”
“Good.” Remus’ hand slid around Harry’s throat and squeezed lightly.
“Oh --” Harry choked out, his eyes flying open in alarm.
“Easy, Harry,” Remus soothed, “I’m not going to hurt you. Trust me?”
“It’s alright,” Sirius murmured, “he knows what he’s doing.”
Harry’s lips twitched with indecision, but he finally nodded his head once.
“Relax. Just concentrate on the feeling. We’ve got you.” Remus’ fingers tightened more gradually this time, giving Harry a chance to examine the sensation. It was odd. Neither very bad nor very good, just new and a touch strange. The hand relaxed. Harry found he’d been holding his breath and let it out slowly. Remus’ hand pressed close again, tighter this time. Oh. Hang on.
Harry’s throat went thick and he found himself drifting towards panic when Remus’ hand relaxed once more. He drew in a breath, feeling his heart start to race and Remus gripped him again, tighter still. Adrenaline sang through his chest and limbs, panic morphing into some strange new emotion for which Harry had no name.
Remus squeezed his throat in a rapid set of pulses, knocking Harry off balance again until the final one - a slow, steady pressure and abrupt release.
Harry fell sideways against Sirius, gasping, heart fluttering like a trapped bird. “Oh. Oh…God,” and when he caught his breath, “Jesus. What in the hell was that?” His muscles were now warm and pliable; he felt like a puppet with cut strings.
“That,” Sirius whispered, “was just the beginning.”
Harry’s cock gave an excited throb and he moaned at the insanity of it all.
Sirius’ hand resettled against the front of Harry’s jeans, his palm rubbing rough caresses all across the whole length of him.
“Fuck,” Harry spat, arching upwards against Sirius’ wrist.
“Language,” Sirius admonished teasingly. “I think it’s time we lost these jeans, eh?”
Remus piped in, “I quite agree. Harry?”
“Mmnh?”
“Harry, stand up for us.” Sirius pulled his hand away and Harry made a disgruntled noise at its loss. “Harry,” Remus’ tone was firm with a note of warning. “Remember our agreement.”
“Mmm, yes, Remus.”
“Stand up now, Harry.”
He did, weaving slightly on untrustworthy legs.
“Turn around and face us. Yes. That’s lovely.”
Harry wasn’t entirely comfortable with the amount of scrutiny under which he suddenly found himself, both men watching him with avid eyes, taking in every detail of him.
“Jeans off, Harry.” Remus again. His eyes drifted unsubtly downward to Harry’s flies, then back up to his face. There was a controlled eagerness to Remus’ expression that made Harry flush. His eyes darted to Sirius only to see the same desire, but in him it was not so politely hidden.
“You want me to-?”
“Strip,” Sirius finished.
Oh. Harry face grew hotter, but a reckless little voice spoke inside his head: Well, if it’s what they want. But better make a nice show of it. Give them more than they bargained for. His hands dropped to his waistband, but still he hesitated.
“Do it, Harry.” Remus left no room for refusal. “I don’t know that you’d want me to do it for you.”
A thrill ran through Harry at the very idea, but he lowered his eyes obediently and set to the task. The button first - pop. Then the zip - click. click. click. click. Then the soft shush of fabric as he slid his hands inside the material and pushed everything, boxers and all, down his legs. He straightened back up, erection bobbing. No one moved for several minutes.
Listening to that niggling voice, Harry took a chance, running his hand from thigh to belly, then touching himself gently as his gaze switched back and forth between the two men.
Remus made a strange hissing noise, any composure he’d had before now completely gone.
Sirius smirked approvingly, muttering, “You sodding little tease. Just like your bloody father.”
That brought Harry up short. “What?”
Sirius and Remus shared a brief but significant look. “I think that’s a conversation for later, Harry,” Sirius suggested. “It involves a considerable amount of explaining, and I rather think we’ve got enough to occupy ourselves right now. Wouldn’t you agree?” Sirius looked deliberately downward.
Harry’s cock jerked.
“Yes, I thought you might.” Sirius smiled at him wickedly.
“C’mon, Harry,” Remus said, his voice mostly steady once again.
Harry blinked at the two of them, still fully clothed. “Aren’t you going to-?”
“Right now, this is about you. We’ll sort out the rest of it later. Now listen to Remus and get you arse over here.”
Harry pulled his feet free - shoes coming off along with trousers - and started toward the bed. “Shall I-? What should I do?”
“It’s not an exam,” Remus chuckled. “Just lie back and enjoy yourself.”
Harry stretched out somewhat self-consciously on the duvet. He still felt their gazes heavy on his skin and reached down to stroke himself again in a flash of self-preservation.
“Oh God.” Sirius couldn’t seem to pick a spot upon which to consistently rest his eyes. “Fuck, Harry.”
“Indeed,” Remus breathed. “It seems we’ve got ourselves a natural, Padfoot.”
Harry felt an odd sort of pride at their words and redoubled his efforts. Shit. He didn’t think he’d be able to hold out much longer at this rate. He sensed more than felt Remus’ hand slowly curling around his own, halting his movements.
“Let me have a go at that.” Harry’s thighs tensed as he took his own hand away and felt Remus fully enclose him in his fist. Remus began with lazy, unhurried strokes, and Harry suddenly knew that this was exactly the way he wanted to die. He allowed his hips to cautiously follow Remus’ caresses, wanting more, but afraid to ask for it.
Remus broke off momentarily to lick his palm, then smoothed the teasing wetness down the shaft of Harry’s cock.
“Uhhn.” His hips bucked, the sleekness of the feeling robbing him of words for the moment. Harry threw his head back, fingers knotting painfully in the duvet. “Shit, shit, shit,” he panted, recovering his voice again.
An unevenness began in Remus’ rhythm and Harry looked down to see that Sirius had joined in, his pale, long-fingered hand half-wrapped around Remus’. The sight was enough to send Harry’s head spinning. Both of them? It was too much to take in. But Remus soon slipped his hand away and allowed Sirius to take over.
Sirius’ hand was vaguely calloused and that slight roughness on Harry’s oversensitive flesh sent a whole new wave of sensations washing through him.
“Up, Harry.” Remus’ voice didn’t really penetrate until Harry felt a hand on his hip.
“Wha-?” He was dazed, his body heavy and flushed.
“Up. C’mon, now.” Another hand slid beneath his shoulders. Harry waited for Sirius to stop so he could obey Remus, but it didn’t happen.
“Remus?” Harry questioned groggily.
“Up.” The word was unyielding and so were the hands.
“‘Lright.” He rolled forward with Remus’ aid into a half-kneeling position. Sirius coaxed him with pulling strokes to ease his body over until his weight was centered in his chest and Sirius’ shoulder bore the brunt of it.
Sirius adjusted his grip to a more convenient angle, his mouth just brushing Harry’s ear. “Oh Lord, Harry. You’re going to love this.”
Huh? I though we were already-
“Remus is fucking ace at it.”
At what? “W-?” Harry had just started speaking when he felt Remus placing a lingering kiss, open-mouthed and sucking, to the back of his neck. The kiss slowly migrated down along his spine. Oh my. That’s…quite nice, actually.
Harry’s skin tingled in the wake of Remus’ mouth. The slight wetness left behind made for a shivery-coolness and the very ends of Remus’ hair left a feathery trail on either side of his lips.
Remus moved slowly between Harry’s shoulder blades, down his mid-back. Harry assumed that once he’d reached the small of his back, Remus would start upwards again. Harry was looking forward to the return trip immensely. The trouble was, Remus didn’t stop. As Remus made his unwavering way past Harry’s hips, he suddenly understood just what Remus was so “fucking ace” at. Harry’s jaw dropped open in disbelief.
He wouldn’t really. He’d heard about such things of course, but who actually did that? Sirius, apparently. And Remus. And me as well, evidently. It’s an odd idea, really. Can’t imagine why anyone would-? Two long swipes of Remus’ tongue and Harry was a joyful convert. He’d never felt anything as gloriously peculiar as Remus’ licks shortened into tantalizing spirals just against his opening.
Harry felt addled, uncoordinated, too large for his skin, trapped as he was between Sirius’ sure hand and Remus’ agile tongue. His hips stuttered, his chest aching with the sounds he was fighting to keep in.
Sirius’ free hand stroked down the line of Harry’s neck, coaxing muscles to relax. His voice was warm in Harry’s ear. “Let it go, Harry. Go on. We’ve got you.”
As Sirius’ fingers settled into his hair, all the breath came out of Harry in a single rush.
“That’s it,” Sirius whispered. “Let me hear you. It’s alright.”
Harry whimpered.
Sirius flicked his thumb sharply, then squeezed.
Harry’s moan was surprised and involuntary, but it did the trick. His voice was now freed and he found, much to his chagrin, that he could no longer stifle the noises that rose in his throat.
“Not long now, eh?” Sirius’ hand was relentless and Harry found his limbs unable to support him any longer. He melted helplessly forward with a groan, but Sirius took his weight - lifted him and kept him upright.
Remus worked inside Harry then with a soft push of his tongue and began a gentle thrusting caress.
Harry jerked, then went limp, one thought circling continuously in his head: Remus is fucking me with his tongue. Remus is fucking me with his tongue. His face was crushed into Sirius as he moaned. The frames of his glasses cut painfully into his cheek, but he pressed in further, burying his cries against Sirius’ neck.
A few more strokes were all it took and Harry felt his body hitch. Any second now - oh - oh- “GOD.” Harry’s thighs spasmed as he came all over his own belly, Sirius, and the duvet. He once again collapsed into Sirius, who laughed delightedly and wrapped him in a fierce hug.
“Oh, God,” Harry said miserably when he was coherent again. “Sirius, I-it’s everywhere.”
Sirius laughed harder and rubbed at Harry’s back.
“Never mind about the mess,” Remus said with a chuckle, absently stretching out the knots in his jaw. “That’s what cleaning spells are for.”
“Besides, Harry, things are about to get quite a bit messier from here on out.”
“What d’you-?”
“Show him, Remus.”
Harry lifted a heavy head to see Remus unbuttoning his shirt and smiling calmly. “Are you ready for the rest of the lesson, Harry?” His voice was a husky drawl.
“But I thought you said-” Harry gasped, feeling the soft wetness of Sirius’ tongue tease his ear.
Sirius let out a hot, breathy snigger. “Get ready to start calling him ‘Professor’ again, Harry.”
<3
Title: Private Tutoring
Author: sethkyne_blue
Pairing(s): Remus/Sirius/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2623
Content: once again…PWP.
Warning(s)/Kink(s): threesome, rimming, mild breath-play
Summary: Um… Sirius, Remus and Harry. On a bed. Clothes start coming off. You get the picture.
Disclaimer: None of them are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s note: AU just to make sure it’s all nice and legal on all participants’ parts. ;)
Acknowledgements: This is a gift-fic for the wonderful irish_lily in thanks for all her great Beta-ing and for just being a kick-ass chick. Thanks to Kat & Erin for helping me brainstorm a title.
X-posted to pervy_werewolf, sirry, sethkyne_blue, quadrashag and venisonsandwich. [Dude... that's a crapload of x-posting! :P]
“Just lift up - that’s right. Let me get your shirt.” A hand cupped his cheek and ear softly. “All right?”
A shiver ran over Harry’s exposed skin. He nodded once, still not quite sure how this had all happened so quickly. A few clumsy, half thought-out overtures on his own part, a conversation heavy with innuendo, and here he was, quite thoroughly caught, on a bed between the two people he most admired at the moment, recently shirtless and embarrassingly hard. Sirius’ hand absently chased patches of gooseflesh up and down the inside of Harry’s right arm.
Remus spoke again, his eyes kind. “Just a word and we’ll stop. Right?”
Harry nodded again and swallowed with difficulty. “Professor-”
“Remus,” Remus corrected gently. “I haven’t been your professor for some time now. Besides,” his smile was amused, but a hungry shadow tinged his expression, “I don’t imagine ‘Professor’ is entirely appropriate considering what we’re about to do.”
There was a quiet laugh from Sirius, who added, “I wouldn’t be so sure. It may be appropriate for part of it.” His thumb was now tracing little figure eights in the soft crease of Harry’s elbow. “You were saying, Harry?”
“I…,” his voice was almost lost in a whisper. Now or never. “I want this.” Had wanted. Needed. For far too long. He reached out to follow the angled edge of Sirius’ jaw, to stroke through the soft black hair.
Sirius leaned into Harry’s hand, his eyes closing, a faint flush washing across his cheeks.
“Sirius.” The word was an insight, an acknowledgement of all Sirius was in that moment of discovery: his scent and textures, the race of his heart, the warmth and weight of him.
The kiss took them both by surprise, neither one honestly sure later who leaned in first. There was a quick battle of tongues and teeth before they found their common ground: Harry, both enthusiastic and shy, eager to please; Sirius, tentative, nervous, but finding himself greedier for Harry’s skin the longer their mouths stayed locked.
They broke away at last, Sirius’ eyes naked and dark, and Harry understood with a shock that he was looking at Sirius; not his godfather, but the man himself. Something very close to fear squeezed Harry’s chest as his gaze locked with Sirius’, much as their mouths had done just moments before.
The fear grew into jagged spikes of panic until a reassuring hand settled at the base of his neck. Harry glanced away to see Remus doing the same to Sirius with his other hand. Some of the wildness left the grey eyes then, and Harry felt himself relax as Remus kneaded along the base of his skull.
“He’s nothing if not a trifle intense,” Remus remarked with humour. “Ease back, Padfoot. You’ll scare him.”
“Too late,” Harry said with a shaky laugh.
Remus smiled and slid his fingers into Harry’s hair. It made Harry want to loll and purr as fingertips slowly rubbed his scalp. “Mmm…”
“Mmm.” The sound was repeated by Remus rather unexpectedly close to his ear. “You like that, Harry?” a low voice whispered.
“Mmm - ah!” Harry melted as a curious mouth fastened at his throat. Lips, tongue, and the keen press of teeth found their slow, wet way beneath his jaw. “Oh.” And this was Remus - warm and insistent and smelling of wool and faint aftershave.
Harry soon found another hand in his hair, Sirius then, angular body a close line along his side. There was another flutter of not-quite-fear, but this time he embraced it, let the buzz ride through his body like water. “God,” Harry murmured.
Sirius’ other hand was again making figure eights, this time along the zip of Harry’s jeans. “Oh, Harry.” Sirius’ lips moved against Harry’s temple as his hand followed the contours of Harry’s erection.
Harry’s mind boggled. Their fingers, their mouths - they felt so damn good. All Sirius needed to do was press a bit harder, just a half-dozen times, and Harry knew he’d be coming spectacularly in his jeans. But Sirius wasn’t pressing harder, and perhaps that was the most significant part.
Remus placed a careful kiss at the edge of Harry’s lips. “Ready, Harry?”
“Er…oh. Yes, Pro- Remus.” The name felt odd in his mouth and he blushed.
He heard answering amusement in Remus’ voice. “You need to trust us now, Harry. I want you to listen to what I say and follow my instructions just as I tell you. Can you do that?”
“I…yes, Remus.”
“Good.” Remus’ hand slid around Harry’s throat and squeezed lightly.
“Oh --” Harry choked out, his eyes flying open in alarm.
“Easy, Harry,” Remus soothed, “I’m not going to hurt you. Trust me?”
“It’s alright,” Sirius murmured, “he knows what he’s doing.”
Harry’s lips twitched with indecision, but he finally nodded his head once.
“Relax. Just concentrate on the feeling. We’ve got you.” Remus’ fingers tightened more gradually this time, giving Harry a chance to examine the sensation. It was odd. Neither very bad nor very good, just new and a touch strange. The hand relaxed. Harry found he’d been holding his breath and let it out slowly. Remus’ hand pressed close again, tighter this time. Oh. Hang on.
Harry’s throat went thick and he found himself drifting towards panic when Remus’ hand relaxed once more. He drew in a breath, feeling his heart start to race and Remus gripped him again, tighter still. Adrenaline sang through his chest and limbs, panic morphing into some strange new emotion for which Harry had no name.
Remus squeezed his throat in a rapid set of pulses, knocking Harry off balance again until the final one - a slow, steady pressure and abrupt release.
Harry fell sideways against Sirius, gasping, heart fluttering like a trapped bird. “Oh. Oh…God,” and when he caught his breath, “Jesus. What in the hell was that?” His muscles were now warm and pliable; he felt like a puppet with cut strings.
“That,” Sirius whispered, “was just the beginning.”
Harry’s cock gave an excited throb and he moaned at the insanity of it all.
Sirius’ hand resettled against the front of Harry’s jeans, his palm rubbing rough caresses all across the whole length of him.
“Fuck,” Harry spat, arching upwards against Sirius’ wrist.
“Language,” Sirius admonished teasingly. “I think it’s time we lost these jeans, eh?”
Remus piped in, “I quite agree. Harry?”
“Mmnh?”
“Harry, stand up for us.” Sirius pulled his hand away and Harry made a disgruntled noise at its loss. “Harry,” Remus’ tone was firm with a note of warning. “Remember our agreement.”
“Mmm, yes, Remus.”
“Stand up now, Harry.”
He did, weaving slightly on untrustworthy legs.
“Turn around and face us. Yes. That’s lovely.”
Harry wasn’t entirely comfortable with the amount of scrutiny under which he suddenly found himself, both men watching him with avid eyes, taking in every detail of him.
“Jeans off, Harry.” Remus again. His eyes drifted unsubtly downward to Harry’s flies, then back up to his face. There was a controlled eagerness to Remus’ expression that made Harry flush. His eyes darted to Sirius only to see the same desire, but in him it was not so politely hidden.
“You want me to-?”
“Strip,” Sirius finished.
Oh. Harry face grew hotter, but a reckless little voice spoke inside his head: Well, if it’s what they want. But better make a nice show of it. Give them more than they bargained for. His hands dropped to his waistband, but still he hesitated.
“Do it, Harry.” Remus left no room for refusal. “I don’t know that you’d want me to do it for you.”
A thrill ran through Harry at the very idea, but he lowered his eyes obediently and set to the task. The button first - pop. Then the zip - click. click. click. click. Then the soft shush of fabric as he slid his hands inside the material and pushed everything, boxers and all, down his legs. He straightened back up, erection bobbing. No one moved for several minutes.
Listening to that niggling voice, Harry took a chance, running his hand from thigh to belly, then touching himself gently as his gaze switched back and forth between the two men.
Remus made a strange hissing noise, any composure he’d had before now completely gone.
Sirius smirked approvingly, muttering, “You sodding little tease. Just like your bloody father.”
That brought Harry up short. “What?”
Sirius and Remus shared a brief but significant look. “I think that’s a conversation for later, Harry,” Sirius suggested. “It involves a considerable amount of explaining, and I rather think we’ve got enough to occupy ourselves right now. Wouldn’t you agree?” Sirius looked deliberately downward.
Harry’s cock jerked.
“Yes, I thought you might.” Sirius smiled at him wickedly.
“C’mon, Harry,” Remus said, his voice mostly steady once again.
Harry blinked at the two of them, still fully clothed. “Aren’t you going to-?”
“Right now, this is about you. We’ll sort out the rest of it later. Now listen to Remus and get you arse over here.”
Harry pulled his feet free - shoes coming off along with trousers - and started toward the bed. “Shall I-? What should I do?”
“It’s not an exam,” Remus chuckled. “Just lie back and enjoy yourself.”
Harry stretched out somewhat self-consciously on the duvet. He still felt their gazes heavy on his skin and reached down to stroke himself again in a flash of self-preservation.
“Oh God.” Sirius couldn’t seem to pick a spot upon which to consistently rest his eyes. “Fuck, Harry.”
“Indeed,” Remus breathed. “It seems we’ve got ourselves a natural, Padfoot.”
Harry felt an odd sort of pride at their words and redoubled his efforts. Shit. He didn’t think he’d be able to hold out much longer at this rate. He sensed more than felt Remus’ hand slowly curling around his own, halting his movements.
“Let me have a go at that.” Harry’s thighs tensed as he took his own hand away and felt Remus fully enclose him in his fist. Remus began with lazy, unhurried strokes, and Harry suddenly knew that this was exactly the way he wanted to die. He allowed his hips to cautiously follow Remus’ caresses, wanting more, but afraid to ask for it.
Remus broke off momentarily to lick his palm, then smoothed the teasing wetness down the shaft of Harry’s cock.
“Uhhn.” His hips bucked, the sleekness of the feeling robbing him of words for the moment. Harry threw his head back, fingers knotting painfully in the duvet. “Shit, shit, shit,” he panted, recovering his voice again.
An unevenness began in Remus’ rhythm and Harry looked down to see that Sirius had joined in, his pale, long-fingered hand half-wrapped around Remus’. The sight was enough to send Harry’s head spinning. Both of them? It was too much to take in. But Remus soon slipped his hand away and allowed Sirius to take over.
Sirius’ hand was vaguely calloused and that slight roughness on Harry’s oversensitive flesh sent a whole new wave of sensations washing through him.
“Up, Harry.” Remus’ voice didn’t really penetrate until Harry felt a hand on his hip.
“Wha-?” He was dazed, his body heavy and flushed.
“Up. C’mon, now.” Another hand slid beneath his shoulders. Harry waited for Sirius to stop so he could obey Remus, but it didn’t happen.
“Remus?” Harry questioned groggily.
“Up.” The word was unyielding and so were the hands.
“‘Lright.” He rolled forward with Remus’ aid into a half-kneeling position. Sirius coaxed him with pulling strokes to ease his body over until his weight was centered in his chest and Sirius’ shoulder bore the brunt of it.
Sirius adjusted his grip to a more convenient angle, his mouth just brushing Harry’s ear. “Oh Lord, Harry. You’re going to love this.”
Huh? I though we were already-
“Remus is fucking ace at it.”
At what? “W-?” Harry had just started speaking when he felt Remus placing a lingering kiss, open-mouthed and sucking, to the back of his neck. The kiss slowly migrated down along his spine. Oh my. That’s…quite nice, actually.
Harry’s skin tingled in the wake of Remus’ mouth. The slight wetness left behind made for a shivery-coolness and the very ends of Remus’ hair left a feathery trail on either side of his lips.
Remus moved slowly between Harry’s shoulder blades, down his mid-back. Harry assumed that once he’d reached the small of his back, Remus would start upwards again. Harry was looking forward to the return trip immensely. The trouble was, Remus didn’t stop. As Remus made his unwavering way past Harry’s hips, he suddenly understood just what Remus was so “fucking ace” at. Harry’s jaw dropped open in disbelief.
He wouldn’t really. He’d heard about such things of course, but who actually did that? Sirius, apparently. And Remus. And me as well, evidently. It’s an odd idea, really. Can’t imagine why anyone would-? Two long swipes of Remus’ tongue and Harry was a joyful convert. He’d never felt anything as gloriously peculiar as Remus’ licks shortened into tantalizing spirals just against his opening.
Harry felt addled, uncoordinated, too large for his skin, trapped as he was between Sirius’ sure hand and Remus’ agile tongue. His hips stuttered, his chest aching with the sounds he was fighting to keep in.
Sirius’ free hand stroked down the line of Harry’s neck, coaxing muscles to relax. His voice was warm in Harry’s ear. “Let it go, Harry. Go on. We’ve got you.”
As Sirius’ fingers settled into his hair, all the breath came out of Harry in a single rush.
“That’s it,” Sirius whispered. “Let me hear you. It’s alright.”
Harry whimpered.
Sirius flicked his thumb sharply, then squeezed.
Harry’s moan was surprised and involuntary, but it did the trick. His voice was now freed and he found, much to his chagrin, that he could no longer stifle the noises that rose in his throat.
“Not long now, eh?” Sirius’ hand was relentless and Harry found his limbs unable to support him any longer. He melted helplessly forward with a groan, but Sirius took his weight - lifted him and kept him upright.
Remus worked inside Harry then with a soft push of his tongue and began a gentle thrusting caress.
Harry jerked, then went limp, one thought circling continuously in his head: Remus is fucking me with his tongue. Remus is fucking me with his tongue. His face was crushed into Sirius as he moaned. The frames of his glasses cut painfully into his cheek, but he pressed in further, burying his cries against Sirius’ neck.
A few more strokes were all it took and Harry felt his body hitch. Any second now - oh - oh- “GOD.” Harry’s thighs spasmed as he came all over his own belly, Sirius, and the duvet. He once again collapsed into Sirius, who laughed delightedly and wrapped him in a fierce hug.
“Oh, God,” Harry said miserably when he was coherent again. “Sirius, I-it’s everywhere.”
Sirius laughed harder and rubbed at Harry’s back.
“Never mind about the mess,” Remus said with a chuckle, absently stretching out the knots in his jaw. “That’s what cleaning spells are for.”
“Besides, Harry, things are about to get quite a bit messier from here on out.”
“What d’you-?”
“Show him, Remus.”
Harry lifted a heavy head to see Remus unbuttoning his shirt and smiling calmly. “Are you ready for the rest of the lesson, Harry?” His voice was a husky drawl.
“But I thought you said-” Harry gasped, feeling the soft wetness of Sirius’ tongue tease his ear.
Sirius let out a hot, breathy snigger. “Get ready to start calling him ‘Professor’ again, Harry.”
<3