Fic: Embossed on Your Hands for midnitemaraud-r
Title: Embossed on Your Hands
Author: ohkaye
Recipient: midnitemaraud-r
Rating: NC-17
Highlight for Warnings: *Graphic oral and anal sex, rimming*
Word Count: 2,104
Summary: Hiding in cramped space with three other boys has become somewhat more complicated for Remus Lupin since he discovered the delights of one Sirius Black's arse.
Author's notes: This is not nearly as good as I wanted it to be! I had two essays to write and then I got sick, so I'm not really happy with it. But hopefully you like it, midnitemaraud-r! Thank you to my wonderful beta N; I did some editing after she read it so all mistakes are mine. The title comes from Jeanette Winterson's Written on the Body, from the following passage: "Don’t you think it’s strange that life, described as so rich and full, a camel-trail of adventure, should shrink to this coin-sized world? A head on one side, a story on the other. Someone you loved and what happened. That’s all there is when you dig in your pockets. The most significant thing is someone else’s face. What else is embossed on your hands but her?"
If Remus had to decide on the one most awkward thing about his Sixth year, it would probably have to be the number of times he’s been stuck in small, cramped spaces with three other boys. These moments, as alarmingly frequent as they are, have been complicated by the fact that he’s not-so-recently begun shagging one Sirius Black, and being pressed groin-to-arse for any given amount of time is no longer the questionable and innocent thing it once was. He is trying very hard not to think about this fact, not to touch Sirius at all, when James interrupts his concentration.
“Can you see anything?” James whispers as quietly as he is able, over Remus’ shoulder. It is still enough that Remus thinks his eardrum may have temporarily stopped functioning. He elbows him in the ribcage and gets an indignant yelp for his pains.
“Sorry,” he murmurs with saccharine innocence.
“Like hell you are,” James whines. “It’s going to bruise and then how will my plan of walking around the common room shirtless-”
“Maybe Lily will take pity on your injury, Prongs,” Sirius cuts in brightly. Remus grins and, all unthinking, runs his fingers across Sirius’ lower back. He actually shivers. Remus can feel the thrill of tension underneath the hum of adrenaline in his long wiry body as he looks over his shoulder into Remus’ too-near face, his entire expression a question.
“Probably she’ll just have a good laugh,” Peter muses from where he is pinned between James and the wall, and with a second indignant yelp James twists around to argue with him. Despite the fact that James’ bony arse is digging into Remus’ lower back, he almost feels that Sirius is the only one here with him, caught between him and a stone door. He doesn’t break the stare they’re locked into; instead, he presses a small open-mouthed kiss against the nape of his neck, steadying himself against his hips. James thrashes in incoherent woe. Remus takes the opportunity to angle his groin into the firm flesh of Sirius’ arse - Sirius who shivers again and pushes back, his hands braced on the stone in front of him.
“Can you see anything?” Remus repeats James’ question from before as if he’s not suddenly gone uncomfortably hard, biting his lip when Sirius nods.
“Filch has passed twice,” he says loudly, and James whips back around and manages to clock Remus in the ear while he does so, “and I think he’s trying to figure out how to change the floor in the Great Hall back.” Remus can feel the bubble of laughter in Sirius’ throat better than he can hear it, and rather wants to lick him. “Think anybody’s fainted yet?”
“The Merpeople are probably more perturbed than anybody else.” James’ knee jabs Remus in the thigh. “What the fuck, mate, why are you taking up so much bloody room?”
“It isn’t my fault you can’t control your own limbs,” Remus points out wryly, jostling him backwards into a mewling Peter.
“Is it safe to come out, then?”
“Yeah, think so,” Sirius says and simultaneously taps his wand on the wall. He falls through, followed by three other teenage boys who land on top of him in varying levels of consternation. “Get off!” he yawps, and Remus murmurs a sultry “I intend to” into the shell of his ear before lifting himself up and sending Peter and James flying. Sirius suddenly finds it difficult to move, much less stand, and has to think of absolutely disgusting things - Snape, for instance - in order to make it possible for him to roll over and get up.
They make it halfway to the Great Hall before Remus tells the others “We’ll catch you up” and grabs Sirius by the wrist, hauling him toward Gryffindor tower. Sirius, who had actually wanted to see the fruits of their many hours labor, finds himself distracted by the slight sweat that has begun to curl the edges of Moony’s hair. He swallows. Remus, in front of him, grins. “Turning the floor of the Great Hall into a reflection of the Lake was clever, Padfoot,” he murmurs as he pulls him up the stairs.
“I’m rather known for my cleverness, Moony,” he returns with a grin, glad beyond telling that everyone is so wonderfully distracted by the results of their prank that both the common room and their dormitory are empty. He pushes Remus for the door and has both hands down the back of his trousers before Remus can manage another word, kissing him hard enough to make him gasp and moving down his neck to suck at its curve. Remus’ hands flutter in the air before clinging to Sirius’ back as they move toward a bed - whose is hardly a matter for consideration at the moment, though Sirius thinks it is probably Remus’. When they collapse on top of it Sirius groans low in the back of his throat, surfacing from the luscious curve of Remus' neck to cast a firm set of wards at the door. He begins to undo the buttons of Remus' shirt with softly quivering fingers, leaving a trail of warm, sloppy kisses down his chest. When he's kneeling before him he begins to tongue his navel, slipping the fastenings of his trousers free and gently tugging them down; he mouths at the damp cotton of Remus' pants, his eyes closed with appreciation as Remus arches back with a sharp gasp. Sirius takes his time, nuzzling into Remus' groin and slowly tonguing and rubbing his erection until it's so hard he can feel the pulse in it, until Remus' pants are sodden with precome and Sirius suspects that if he dragged a tooth along the shaft it would be all over. But he does not actually do that, though the temptation is there. Instead, he slides the elastic of his briefs down and hitches them off as he did his trousers, kissing the musky head of his member and flicking his tongue across the aperture.
He devours him in languid sucks: first just the head, then a bit lower, then a bit lower than that. He hasn't managed to deep throat Remus in a while, and he goes about it now with quivering, lust-hastened deliberation. He strokes the rough hair on his testes, cupping them in his palm with equal reverence while he slowly pulls away from Remus and then swallows him down again, fucking him thoroughly with the talented muscles of his tongue and mouth. He looks up into Remus’ face, Remus who is staring down at him with his eyes half-lidded and his mouth parted, his hips hitching under Sirius’ hands. He’s making the most delicious little noises, soft ecstatic sounds from somewhere in the back of his throat; Sirius kisses his inner thighs with gentle caresses of his lips and tongue, never breaking eye contact. His fingers dig into Remus' hips, his lips very red when they wrap around the hot flesh of his erection once more. Forcibly he jerks his lover's pelvis forward, hollowing his cheeks as he pushes him back; after this single manipulated thrust he looks up, eyebrows raised, his tongue undulating along the underside of his cock. Every action is an invitation.
Remus chokes and needs no other encouragement, tangling his fingers in the heather-wild thatch of Sirius’ hair and bucking his hips forward wildly, his soft noises becoming louder and louder with every thrust. Greedily, Sirius swallows him, sucking when Remus pulls out and bracing his tongue against the underside of his cock when he thrusts in; he relaxes his throat and doesn't gag when the head of his lover's erection hits his soft palate, moaning around the hot, heavy flesh. He can feel his own erection caught uncomfortably in his pants, tight against the zipper of his trousers, and reaches down to undo the fastenings. He leans back, forcing Remus to scoot forward to maintain his rhythm, and moistens two fingers with the slick beads of his own precome. Sirius reaches underneath his lover and slides his fingertips across the ruck of his arse, moaning sloppily around his erection again as he touches him. “Fuck,” Remus snarls, his cock twitching, and Sirius suddenly pulls away. “What-” Remus begins, but Sirius pushes him back against the bed with a hand to his stomach, stroking the backs of his thighs before lifting his legs up and spreading the warm flesh of his buttocks. Remus keens in anticipation, clutching the sheets, and gives a strangled moan when Sirius licks him. He’s loose and Sirius quivers, running his slick tongue slowly over his musky flesh, pulling away and breathing sharply when Remus starts to make the ecstatic groans that generally indicate he’s about to come.
“You’re going to kill me, Padfoot,” Remus moans above him.
“Little death though,” Sirius returns, his lips brushing his sensitive skin. Remus laughs shakily and sits up just as Sirius reaches for his erection, grabbing his hand and threading their fingers together. “I want you to fuck me,” he breathes, his pupils dilated and mouth red. “I want to come on your cock.”
Sirius can’t strip fast enough, his fingers clumsy on his buttons and Remus’ no better; his lover jerks his pants and trousers down past his arse and his shirt has been flung backwards and it’s good enough, really. He kicks his remaining clothing away as he rises and pins Remus against the bed, wonderful Remus who has already nabbed the lube from the nightstand and who reaches down to stroke Sirius with it until the latter is begging against his collarbone. "Want you so bad, Moonshine," he rumbles, his voice as thick and heavy as the erection throbbing against the crease of Remus's hip and thigh. "Want to strip you with my teeth and fuck you against the mirror in the Prefect's bathroom, want to sneak up on you in the shower and suck your cock before breakfast, want to bring you down to the Pitch and ride you behind the shed..." His hips have started to hitch gently against Remus's, his teeth catching on his earlobe, his voice growing huskier with every other breath. "Want you always, you fucking irresistible, magnificent bastard."
“Stop talking and do it, then,” Remus growls, and Sirius slides into him without further ado. He sinks his teeth into the taut line of Remus's throat, biting hard enough to bruise, pushing his entire body down and into his lover's. He thrusts into his lover recklessly, snarling as he pulls Remus's head down to kiss him bruisingly hard. He wraps his hand around Remus's erection without thinking about what he's doing, jerking his fist in time with the relentless pounding of his hips. Remus is swearing into his ear, begging him harder harder and Sirius obliges willingly, moaning into his skin. His body is hot and nowhere is hotter than his groin; he's so thick that Remus is very nearly painfully tight around him, and suddenly he can feel it - the taught crescendo that begins in his stomach and spreads through his pelvis, and he bursts into Remus with a strangled howl of release. He flattens him against the bed, his hips jerking erratically as he comes in thick spurts and this is what pushes Remus over, his hips bucking wildly into Sirius as his orgasm hits him.
They do not speak for several minutes, relaxing into one another with the ease of familiar lovers, Sirius nuzzling absently at Remus’ temple. Remus runs his fingertips over Sirius’ spine as his breathing evens out, desperation bleeding out of them and leaving nothing but sleepy tenderness in its wake. Eventually, it is Remus that stirs, albeit only to sit up and grab his wand to clean them off. Sirius curls around him puppy-like, kissing the dip of his hip-bone. His daft-bastard smile makes Remus want to sing or something equally girly, so he settles for running his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go look at the Great Hall?” he asks quietly, sure he knows what the answer will be.
Sure enough, Sirius looks up at him like he’s grown a second head. “That would mean you’d have to be clothed again.”
“Generally, yes.”
“Then my answer is no, you daft git. Come here.” Sirius reaches up to tug on his shoulder, but Remus doesn’t move just yet; he undoes the wards first and swings the bed-curtains closed around them. He can feel Sirius’ smile in the darkness.
“I love you, Moony,” he murmurs quietly, and Remus kisses him soundly.
“I love you too, Pads.”
Author: ohkaye
Recipient: midnitemaraud-r
Rating: NC-17
Highlight for Warnings: *Graphic oral and anal sex, rimming*
Word Count: 2,104
Summary: Hiding in cramped space with three other boys has become somewhat more complicated for Remus Lupin since he discovered the delights of one Sirius Black's arse.
Author's notes: This is not nearly as good as I wanted it to be! I had two essays to write and then I got sick, so I'm not really happy with it. But hopefully you like it, midnitemaraud-r! Thank you to my wonderful beta N; I did some editing after she read it so all mistakes are mine. The title comes from Jeanette Winterson's Written on the Body, from the following passage: "Don’t you think it’s strange that life, described as so rich and full, a camel-trail of adventure, should shrink to this coin-sized world? A head on one side, a story on the other. Someone you loved and what happened. That’s all there is when you dig in your pockets. The most significant thing is someone else’s face. What else is embossed on your hands but her?"
If Remus had to decide on the one most awkward thing about his Sixth year, it would probably have to be the number of times he’s been stuck in small, cramped spaces with three other boys. These moments, as alarmingly frequent as they are, have been complicated by the fact that he’s not-so-recently begun shagging one Sirius Black, and being pressed groin-to-arse for any given amount of time is no longer the questionable and innocent thing it once was. He is trying very hard not to think about this fact, not to touch Sirius at all, when James interrupts his concentration.
“Can you see anything?” James whispers as quietly as he is able, over Remus’ shoulder. It is still enough that Remus thinks his eardrum may have temporarily stopped functioning. He elbows him in the ribcage and gets an indignant yelp for his pains.
“Sorry,” he murmurs with saccharine innocence.
“Like hell you are,” James whines. “It’s going to bruise and then how will my plan of walking around the common room shirtless-”
“Maybe Lily will take pity on your injury, Prongs,” Sirius cuts in brightly. Remus grins and, all unthinking, runs his fingers across Sirius’ lower back. He actually shivers. Remus can feel the thrill of tension underneath the hum of adrenaline in his long wiry body as he looks over his shoulder into Remus’ too-near face, his entire expression a question.
“Probably she’ll just have a good laugh,” Peter muses from where he is pinned between James and the wall, and with a second indignant yelp James twists around to argue with him. Despite the fact that James’ bony arse is digging into Remus’ lower back, he almost feels that Sirius is the only one here with him, caught between him and a stone door. He doesn’t break the stare they’re locked into; instead, he presses a small open-mouthed kiss against the nape of his neck, steadying himself against his hips. James thrashes in incoherent woe. Remus takes the opportunity to angle his groin into the firm flesh of Sirius’ arse - Sirius who shivers again and pushes back, his hands braced on the stone in front of him.
“Can you see anything?” Remus repeats James’ question from before as if he’s not suddenly gone uncomfortably hard, biting his lip when Sirius nods.
“Filch has passed twice,” he says loudly, and James whips back around and manages to clock Remus in the ear while he does so, “and I think he’s trying to figure out how to change the floor in the Great Hall back.” Remus can feel the bubble of laughter in Sirius’ throat better than he can hear it, and rather wants to lick him. “Think anybody’s fainted yet?”
“The Merpeople are probably more perturbed than anybody else.” James’ knee jabs Remus in the thigh. “What the fuck, mate, why are you taking up so much bloody room?”
“It isn’t my fault you can’t control your own limbs,” Remus points out wryly, jostling him backwards into a mewling Peter.
“Is it safe to come out, then?”
“Yeah, think so,” Sirius says and simultaneously taps his wand on the wall. He falls through, followed by three other teenage boys who land on top of him in varying levels of consternation. “Get off!” he yawps, and Remus murmurs a sultry “I intend to” into the shell of his ear before lifting himself up and sending Peter and James flying. Sirius suddenly finds it difficult to move, much less stand, and has to think of absolutely disgusting things - Snape, for instance - in order to make it possible for him to roll over and get up.
They make it halfway to the Great Hall before Remus tells the others “We’ll catch you up” and grabs Sirius by the wrist, hauling him toward Gryffindor tower. Sirius, who had actually wanted to see the fruits of their many hours labor, finds himself distracted by the slight sweat that has begun to curl the edges of Moony’s hair. He swallows. Remus, in front of him, grins. “Turning the floor of the Great Hall into a reflection of the Lake was clever, Padfoot,” he murmurs as he pulls him up the stairs.
“I’m rather known for my cleverness, Moony,” he returns with a grin, glad beyond telling that everyone is so wonderfully distracted by the results of their prank that both the common room and their dormitory are empty. He pushes Remus for the door and has both hands down the back of his trousers before Remus can manage another word, kissing him hard enough to make him gasp and moving down his neck to suck at its curve. Remus’ hands flutter in the air before clinging to Sirius’ back as they move toward a bed - whose is hardly a matter for consideration at the moment, though Sirius thinks it is probably Remus’. When they collapse on top of it Sirius groans low in the back of his throat, surfacing from the luscious curve of Remus' neck to cast a firm set of wards at the door. He begins to undo the buttons of Remus' shirt with softly quivering fingers, leaving a trail of warm, sloppy kisses down his chest. When he's kneeling before him he begins to tongue his navel, slipping the fastenings of his trousers free and gently tugging them down; he mouths at the damp cotton of Remus' pants, his eyes closed with appreciation as Remus arches back with a sharp gasp. Sirius takes his time, nuzzling into Remus' groin and slowly tonguing and rubbing his erection until it's so hard he can feel the pulse in it, until Remus' pants are sodden with precome and Sirius suspects that if he dragged a tooth along the shaft it would be all over. But he does not actually do that, though the temptation is there. Instead, he slides the elastic of his briefs down and hitches them off as he did his trousers, kissing the musky head of his member and flicking his tongue across the aperture.
He devours him in languid sucks: first just the head, then a bit lower, then a bit lower than that. He hasn't managed to deep throat Remus in a while, and he goes about it now with quivering, lust-hastened deliberation. He strokes the rough hair on his testes, cupping them in his palm with equal reverence while he slowly pulls away from Remus and then swallows him down again, fucking him thoroughly with the talented muscles of his tongue and mouth. He looks up into Remus’ face, Remus who is staring down at him with his eyes half-lidded and his mouth parted, his hips hitching under Sirius’ hands. He’s making the most delicious little noises, soft ecstatic sounds from somewhere in the back of his throat; Sirius kisses his inner thighs with gentle caresses of his lips and tongue, never breaking eye contact. His fingers dig into Remus' hips, his lips very red when they wrap around the hot flesh of his erection once more. Forcibly he jerks his lover's pelvis forward, hollowing his cheeks as he pushes him back; after this single manipulated thrust he looks up, eyebrows raised, his tongue undulating along the underside of his cock. Every action is an invitation.
Remus chokes and needs no other encouragement, tangling his fingers in the heather-wild thatch of Sirius’ hair and bucking his hips forward wildly, his soft noises becoming louder and louder with every thrust. Greedily, Sirius swallows him, sucking when Remus pulls out and bracing his tongue against the underside of his cock when he thrusts in; he relaxes his throat and doesn't gag when the head of his lover's erection hits his soft palate, moaning around the hot, heavy flesh. He can feel his own erection caught uncomfortably in his pants, tight against the zipper of his trousers, and reaches down to undo the fastenings. He leans back, forcing Remus to scoot forward to maintain his rhythm, and moistens two fingers with the slick beads of his own precome. Sirius reaches underneath his lover and slides his fingertips across the ruck of his arse, moaning sloppily around his erection again as he touches him. “Fuck,” Remus snarls, his cock twitching, and Sirius suddenly pulls away. “What-” Remus begins, but Sirius pushes him back against the bed with a hand to his stomach, stroking the backs of his thighs before lifting his legs up and spreading the warm flesh of his buttocks. Remus keens in anticipation, clutching the sheets, and gives a strangled moan when Sirius licks him. He’s loose and Sirius quivers, running his slick tongue slowly over his musky flesh, pulling away and breathing sharply when Remus starts to make the ecstatic groans that generally indicate he’s about to come.
“You’re going to kill me, Padfoot,” Remus moans above him.
“Little death though,” Sirius returns, his lips brushing his sensitive skin. Remus laughs shakily and sits up just as Sirius reaches for his erection, grabbing his hand and threading their fingers together. “I want you to fuck me,” he breathes, his pupils dilated and mouth red. “I want to come on your cock.”
Sirius can’t strip fast enough, his fingers clumsy on his buttons and Remus’ no better; his lover jerks his pants and trousers down past his arse and his shirt has been flung backwards and it’s good enough, really. He kicks his remaining clothing away as he rises and pins Remus against the bed, wonderful Remus who has already nabbed the lube from the nightstand and who reaches down to stroke Sirius with it until the latter is begging against his collarbone. "Want you so bad, Moonshine," he rumbles, his voice as thick and heavy as the erection throbbing against the crease of Remus's hip and thigh. "Want to strip you with my teeth and fuck you against the mirror in the Prefect's bathroom, want to sneak up on you in the shower and suck your cock before breakfast, want to bring you down to the Pitch and ride you behind the shed..." His hips have started to hitch gently against Remus's, his teeth catching on his earlobe, his voice growing huskier with every other breath. "Want you always, you fucking irresistible, magnificent bastard."
“Stop talking and do it, then,” Remus growls, and Sirius slides into him without further ado. He sinks his teeth into the taut line of Remus's throat, biting hard enough to bruise, pushing his entire body down and into his lover's. He thrusts into his lover recklessly, snarling as he pulls Remus's head down to kiss him bruisingly hard. He wraps his hand around Remus's erection without thinking about what he's doing, jerking his fist in time with the relentless pounding of his hips. Remus is swearing into his ear, begging him harder harder and Sirius obliges willingly, moaning into his skin. His body is hot and nowhere is hotter than his groin; he's so thick that Remus is very nearly painfully tight around him, and suddenly he can feel it - the taught crescendo that begins in his stomach and spreads through his pelvis, and he bursts into Remus with a strangled howl of release. He flattens him against the bed, his hips jerking erratically as he comes in thick spurts and this is what pushes Remus over, his hips bucking wildly into Sirius as his orgasm hits him.
They do not speak for several minutes, relaxing into one another with the ease of familiar lovers, Sirius nuzzling absently at Remus’ temple. Remus runs his fingertips over Sirius’ spine as his breathing evens out, desperation bleeding out of them and leaving nothing but sleepy tenderness in its wake. Eventually, it is Remus that stirs, albeit only to sit up and grab his wand to clean them off. Sirius curls around him puppy-like, kissing the dip of his hip-bone. His daft-bastard smile makes Remus want to sing or something equally girly, so he settles for running his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go look at the Great Hall?” he asks quietly, sure he knows what the answer will be.
Sure enough, Sirius looks up at him like he’s grown a second head. “That would mean you’d have to be clothed again.”
“Generally, yes.”
“Then my answer is no, you daft git. Come here.” Sirius reaches up to tug on his shoulder, but Remus doesn’t move just yet; he undoes the wards first and swings the bed-curtains closed around them. He can feel Sirius’ smile in the darkness.
“I love you, Moony,” he murmurs quietly, and Remus kisses him soundly.
“I love you too, Pads.”