Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5115326.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Sirius_Black/James_Potter
  Character:
      Sirius_Black, James_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      Rape/Non-con_Elements, Dubious_Consent, Snogging, Anal_Sex, Oral_Sex,
      Possibly_Unrequited_Love, Homophobic_Language, Prongs_in_an_asshole, omg
      i_meant_to_type_"is"_but_hey_thats_accurate_too
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-31 Words: 2590
****** Fill With Fire, Exhale Desire ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     “That’s not fair, Padfoot. Turning me on and then not letting me have
     you.”
     Sirius squirmed. "You've got hands."
Notes
     All characters belong to J.K. Rowling (I'm sorry, JKR.)
     Title from Car Radio by Twenty-One Pilots.
They were just forearms, such an unimportant body part, and Sirius couldn’t
stop staring at them. James’s arms were so toned, so cinnamon-tan, resting
against the desk with his sleeves pushed up to the elbows. Skinny wrists with
marbled blue veins. He wondered how it would feel to run his tongue along his
arms, all the way down to the tender skin at his inner elbow, and maybe he’d
try it next time they got into bed together--
"Mr. Black,” said McGonagall sharply.
He blinked up at her.
“I asked how one might return an object that has been Partially Vanished to its
original state.”
“Oh. You would have to simplify the spell by cross-multiplying the original
Vanishment formula to accommodate for partial bodyweight,” said Sirius, and
McGonagall narrowed her eyes, obviously not expecting him to have had the
correct answer. Luckily Remus, wonderful Remus, had gone over this with him the
night before.
“Yes,” McGonagall said reluctantly, and went back to her lesson.
James was staring at him across the table. He hiked up his sleeves even
further, a knowing smirk across his face. Sirius stared back at him, grinning.
When class ended, the four Marauders were grouping in the corridor, and James
was beside Sirius, brushing against his arm. He suddenly placed his elbow on
Sirius’s shoulder and leaned in to him. He put his lips close to Sirius’s ear
so the other two would not hear. “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?”
His quiet little breaths were warm against Sirius’s face.
“Damn right I am,” he whispered back.
James laughed, a noise like the pop of a party favor exploding in a cloud of
glitter. “You’re so full of yourself, Padfoot. A real narcissist.” He looked at
him in a way that made his heart plunge straight to his stomach.
“Takes one to know one,” retorted Sirius, looking into James’s eyes, which
sparkled brightly back at him, alight with desire.
“Hey, Prongs,” said Wormtail. “I think Evans is trying to get your attention.”
“Really?” said James, taking his arm off of Sirius and turning away to wave at
his girlfriend across the hall.
                                      ___
Sirius woke to the feel of someone moving around close to him. He opened his
eyes to see James, climbing into his bed and drawing the red-velvet Gryffindor
curtains closed. He sat parallel to the other boy, pressing his tan leg up
against Sirius’s own pale skin.
"Prongs," he said. "Can't you keep it in your pants for two days until your
girlfriend gets off the rag?"
"I don't need Lily right now," James shuffled out of his boxers, threw them
aside. "I need you."
"You need me?" Sirius scoffed, cheeks burning red. He curled and uncurled his
fists, trying not to think how much he wanted this and didn’t want it at the
same time--
"Yes, Padfoot, " said James, and buck naked, was now getting on top of Sirius,
straddling him. "I need you."
"More like you need a warm body to rub your cock against."
James laughed. "Well, I can't let this fine body go to waste, can I?" James
leaned forward and put his mouth to Sirius's neck, clutching him by the
shoulders so he couldn't escape. Drunk on his own power, James planted wet,
hungry kisses along his neck and nipped the bends and hollows near his
collarbone, hard enough that Sirius knew his skin would be smattered with
violet-red bruises come morning, like fallen petals. And, James being James, he
was crying out with exaggerated groans of pleasure as he sucked his best mate’s
skin.
"Shut the fuck up, you'll wake Moony and Wormtail.”
James moaned even louder.
"You're a git, Prongs," said Sirius, rolling his eyes and leaning back across
the pillows. He lay still, trying not to feel weird about James's mouth on his
chest and his hardness against Sirius's bare leg.
Sirius was no stranger to this game. He'd shagged a bloke or two, while drunk
out of his mind and/or high off Phantasmic Philodendrons. And there was one
time when Abraxas Malfoy slipped his hand in his dress robes under the dinner
table, spider-skittering his cold fingers against his thirteen-year-old thigh.
Sirius, in some lapse of judgement, had told his father about it. Orion had
fixed him with an icy look and said, "You'd better do what he asks. We can't
afford to make enemies."
So when Abraxas cornered him in the back garden, Sirius didn't scream, though
he did throw a few hexes and try to fight him off as best as he could. Abraxas
only laughed and pressed him into the grass. But this is different, Sirius
thought as James practically ate his face off, positioned directly over him,
trapping him between his limbs. I like being under Prongs.
“Damn, someone’s horny,” he joked, “Lucky you have me to satisfy your little
urges, right?”
James clamped his mouth to Sirius's, effectively silencing him. The other boy’s
tongue wrested his lips open, slipping between them, moving against the roof of
his mouth. Sirius kissed him back without thinking, an action programmed into
him by habit. He tasted so good, so wet and warm, and he smelled of licorice
and that horrible musky scent he sometimes wore when he wanted to impress
Evans. His hands moved over James's body, exploring his shoulders and chest
and--yes--his fucking forearms.
"See, now you're playing along," said James, his nails digging into Sirius's
arm as they continued snogging, sending tiny sparks of pleasure scintillating
over his skin. "Merlin, you’re good at this. Are you sure you're not a
poofter?"
"Prongs, you say that every time," Sirius said, not rising to the insult. James
only grinned and weaved his free hand into his silky black hair, twisting it
round his fingers, pulling painfully at his scalp.
It was all right, really.
It was only Prongs.
He was his best mate; James let him into his house when Sirius's parents kicked
him out, and warmed his bed on the nights when he couldn't sleep, and never
asked any uncomfortable questions. He made him feel almost normal for one
summer of his life, like he didn't have a history of evil running through his
veins or self-inflicted scars in scarlet crosshatches down his legs. Why
shouldn't he get to use Sirius's body once in awhile?
It wasn't like he was raping him or anything. It didn't hurt. James was one of
the most attractive people Sirius had ever known and he liked it. There was
nothing to complain about.
                                      ___
Sirius's eyes wandered to James's cock. He had it in his hand, trying and
failing to wank himself and ravish Sirius's body at the same time. He sighed
and took hold of the other boy's cock. The faster they got this over with, the
better. He began to thumb the tip of it in tiny circles, just the way James
liked it.
“Mmm, yes,” said James, lifting his head from Sirius’s torso. His eyes traveled
up and down his body, savoring him like he was a piece of meat he was about to
devour. "I'm going to bugger you tonight," James whispered, tugging at Sirius's
waistband.
"What?" Sirius laughed, but then he realized James is not joking and his mirth
faded to wide-eyed anxiety.
"Bugger you, fuck you, you know, stick my prick up your arse."
Sirius stopped stroking the other boy’s cock and stared up at the canopy,
refusing to look at him. His heart thumped too hard in his chest. "I know what
you mean."
"Just checking," James said with a grin. "You're such a virgin, I can never be
sure what you know or don't know."
"Not all of us can be horny bastards," snapped Sirius, "Hitting up random girls
and fucking them senseless in the third-floor bathroom."
James smirked. "Jealous?" He slipped his hand into Sirius' pants, fingers
grazing the skin stretched over his hip bone. It sent shivers down Sirius's
spine.
"No."
Yes. They didn't deserve him.
He'd never say it aloud, but sometimes he dreamt that James actually saw him,
actually touched him like it meant something. Not like this. He was mad for
him, their nights together both broke his heart and quelled his lust. His hopes
of whispered vows and just him and James, him and James, him and James, were
always blotted out by the reality of his best friend’s insatiable, purely
sexual greed.
James was taking off the other boys’ pants now. Sirius lifted his hips so that
he can pull them all the way off. An uneasy feeling gnawed away at his stomach.
He felt strange lying here, nude and at James's mercy. Exposed, vulnerable.
“Don’t you want to frot instead?” he suggested, looking up at James who gazed
back at him, hands fastened to either side of Sirius's body.
"Don't get me wrong, I love your dick, but I want to...," his hand trailed
along Sirius's side and then dipped under his prone body, cupping his arse.
"...try something new."
"I can suck you," Sirius volunteered.
"But I'm so hard," James said. “That’s not fair, Padfoot. Turning me on and
then not letting me have you.”
Sirius squirmed. "You've got hands."
"And you've got an arse," James says, squeezing said arse, hard. Then he
lurched forward, ignoring Sirius’s cries of surprise, pushing him against the
mattress with a thump! He was chest to chest with him, keeping him down with
his own body weight. He felt impossibly heavy.
He couldn't--wouldn't fight back. There are things Sirius was good at; denying
Prongs what he wanted was not one of them. Even if he wanted to, James--though
small-boned and half a head shorter than Sirius--was infinitely fitter than
him. He could probably kill a man in ten seconds flat. But when James grabbed
at his thighs and guided his legs slightly apart, instinctive sirens blared
loud in Sirius's head. "No--" he said, making to push James away, but he
grasped him tight.
"I'll be gentle, I promise," James whispered into his ear. 
                                      ___
Sirius whimpered as James pushed himself further inside, stretching him with a
dull, uncomfortable kind of pain. Memories flashed, unbidded,  in front of his
eyes. The cool night,  the grass getting into his mouth as Abraxas fucked him
roughly from behind. “Prongs--I don’t think I can do this--”
"Just relax."
"I'm trying."
"It's not my fault you're so uptight."
“C-can you pull out?” God, he sounded like a pussy. This wasn’t normal; this
wasn’t Sirius fucking Black, who was sharp like a jagged shard of glass and
could cut your soul just as deep. But something about James--his energy, his
light touches, his unwavering smiles--brought out the softness under Sirius’s
hard edges.
“Shhh,” James said between labored breaths, driving his prick in further. "I'm
not going to hurt you."
"Well it bloody hurts."
“It’s supposed to.”
“I don’t like it...”
“Are you a Gryffindor or not?”
Ouch. That stung. Sirius closed his eyes, took a deep breath, trying to steady
himself. He choked down his whimpers as James made his first thrust. "Circe,
how fucking big is your prick?"
He grinned. "I'm hung as a centaur."
"Clearly.“ Sirius reached out and scrambled for the closest thing he could
find, which was the thin cotton duvet. He clutched at it like a five-year-old
would clutch his safety blanket. “Um...go slower, would you?"
"But you feel so good. I can't help it."
“Prongs--please…”
James clicked his tongue in annoyance. "You're fine, Padfoot."
"But--I’m serious--"
“Course you’re Sirius,” murmured James, ramming his cock into him, eyes closed,
deep groans of pleasure escaping his throat. "Hey...I think your arse is, like,
tensing."
"I wonder why," said Sirius drily.
"You're so tight this way."
A pause.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." James’s eyes flew open and he looked him in the face for the first
time, staring down at him from above while he thrust in and out of his arse.
His wild, sweat-damp hair fell across his caramel-brown eyes.“You okay?”
“Fine,” said Sirius, and gritted his teeth.
                                      ___
He was dying and alive both at the same time. Shaking with nerves, but body
singing. With every thrust, he felt James’ cock pressing inside him hard. James
was calling his name and breathless with lust, and he found himself gyrating
his own hips in rhythm with the other boy’s. There was a hot flame pulsing
inside him and it was pain and it was passion and and it shouldn’t feel this
good.
                                      ___
He came inside him, and Sirius was so relieved when he slid out that he didn't
even care about the clear-white liquid dribbling onto his sheets.
"Can I suck you off?" James said, shoving the blankets off to one corner of the
bed so he could place his head between Sirius’s legs. Sirius didn't answer;
James was going to do it either way. He barely felt it as James pleasured him,
swirling his expert tongue around his prick. It was as if Sirius’s mind was
spiralling away from his body, leaving this vessel of skin and bones. When
James was finished, he wiped the last of his come off his mouth and settled
next to Sirius, taking him into his arms. He buried his face in his neck.
"Get off me." Usually they kissed after a shag, tender and slow, but tonight
was different and they both knew it.
"No," James said, but then he noticed the dark expression on his face and let
go.
Sighing, he leaned backwards onto the bed beside Sirius, with a space between
them that neither wanted to cross. Through the gap in the maroon curtains, the
moonlight streamed through the window, painting their faces in blue-gray light
against the canvas of shadow. It was too cramped in this bed with the two of
them, and the sheets smelled of sweat and spunk and James's awful cologne.
Sirius wanted to get up and leave, maybe shower. Wash off the memories of
tonight.
James was looking at him now, biting his lip. Sirius could feel the other boy's
ache-- longing and affection and something that might be guilt--resonating
through his own body. They had the ability to touch without touching, to know
without being told. Still, James felt the need to speak.
"You don't hate me, do you?" James asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice,
touching his arm.
A silence stretched out between them.
"No, " said Sirius at last. He heaved a sigh. "I could never hate you, Prongs."
James took his hand, squeezed it gratefully.
“But you owe me for this," Sirius said quickly, sitting up. "I want you to do
my Transfiguration homework. For. A. Month."
James looked at him, considering. "Fine. I'll do your damn homework." Suddenly
seized with desire, he reached out to stroke his jaw, moving his hands down his
face like he owned him. And really, Sirius had always belonged to Prongs, from
that very first day on the train, when James had flashed his alabaster-white
smile at him, making his stomach flutter like it never had before. “I can tell
we’re going to be friends.”
He touched James’s hands and they both froze like that for a second. Then James
pulled away and dropped his eyes.
"Thanks for...everything," said James, kissing him on the cheek as he got up.
"'Night, Padfoot.” He grabbed his pants, hurtled himself out through the
curtains, and pulled them closed behind him, leaving Sirius alone in the dark.
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