Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/879294.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Sirius_Black/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Sirius_Black, Harry_Potter
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-11 Words: 2674
****** The Total PWP Where Sirius Talks Dirty While Shagging Harry Against a
Wall ******
by petulantgod_(prettyclever)
Summary
     Total PWP where Sirius talks dirty while shagging Harry against a
     wall.
     Warnings for being not the happiest story ever. Adult/teen sex.
     Messed up power dynamics.
Notes
     Author's Notes: Written for xylodemon's Crack!Fic Prompts. Inspired
     by ponderosa121's GORGEOUS art (now lost to the ages and
     LiveJournal's purges). Massive thank yous to the Deadly Viper Beta
     Squad: rosesanguina, tricksterquinn, meredyth_13, rosie_red73,
     supergrover24, and to everyone else who held my hand and stroked my
     ego.
     Written in '04 or '05.
Harry steps from his room wearing the Invisibility Cloak, his fingers trembling
as he walks slowly down the draughty hallway toward Mrs Black's portrait.
Sirius told him to meet him there at three a.m. and there's nothing on earth
that can keep Harry from Sirius. There's no one on earth who means more to
Harry, who holds more promise of family and hope and home, and nothing matters
more than making Sirius love him and making Sirius whole again. 

Obviously Sirius isn't quite whole. If he were properly sane, he wouldn't have
asked Harry to meet him wearing a skirt. He wouldn't have kissed Harry's shock-
slack mouth and left the taste of firewhisky burning through the sweetness of
the pumpkin juice Harry had with his dinner. It doesn't matter though, not to
Harry. Or rather, the ways in which it matters don't dissuade him. Everyone
else thinks Harry's a kid, and they don't realise what he's been through, don't
fucking understand how hard it is to be him, to be trapped in his own life, but
Sirius does and he's on Harry's side, and he doesn't need anyone else...

Sirius stands beside the portrait, and though Mrs Black's mouth is open in a
seizure of screaming, Harry can't hear a thing. Cruel, beady eyes glare at
Sirius as he lounges against the wall, broad shoulders fitted into the corner
at an indolent angle as though he owns the place... and he does. This
is his place, and by that merit, Harry's. The thought of belonging somewhere at
last makes Harry giddy and reckless, makes him whisk the cloak from around his
shoulders with a flourish that Snape would envy and throw himself into his
godfather's arms with a happy sigh. 

"You're here," Sirius breathes, and Harry is so glad he is. 

Sirius' eyes raking over his body make him feel more real, remind him that this
is the one person who will never forget him, ignore him, neglect him... Sirius
will never care about anyone else the way he cares about Harry, and Sirius will
never leave him or go have fun without him or just do whatever he's told even
when it means cutting Harry out of he loop-- Sirius will fight for Harry and
he'll make sure people respect Harry. Sirius believes Harry isn't just a kid.

Moonlight falls across Harry's face as he steps forward, and Sirius' long
fingers trace gently over the line of his jaw as he cradles Harry's cheek in
his palm, sending a shiver through Harry's body that reverberates in his heart
long after his muscles still. 

"I love you," Sirius says, burying his face against Harry's messy hair, and
Harry thinks he might burst with the way his heart swells in his chest. 

"Love you too," he mumbles, embarrassed, unsure of what exactly he's saying
when he says it, but knowing whatever it is, he means it with all that's in
him. 

Sirius' arms wind around him tightly, and Harry loses his breath a moment, and
the scent of Sirius fills his mind, masculine and adult and mysterious, warm
with alcohol and smoke and spice... "Need to remember how to be a man," he
thinks he hears him murmur, but he isn't sure, and he's not certain this is the
kind of thing one can ask about. Silently, Harry smoothes his hands down
Sirius' back feeling as though he's back in Care of Magical Creatures and
trying to tame a wild thing.

Pulling away suddenly, Sirius looks down at him. "You love me?" he asks, voice
deathly serious, terribly quiet. 

"More than anything," Harry replies without needing to think. "More than
anyone."

In a rush, Sirius pins him to the wall, his tongue flicking over Harry's lips
and his body pressing hard and urgent against Harry's own, and resistance isn't
a thought. Give, Harry thinks, Want to give him everything... and Harry knows
that no matter how much he gives Sirius, Sirius will still be reflecting it all
back at him, pouring into him every scrap of mad, fervidly devoted love that he
has, and ohhhh Sirius has more love inside him than any human being should be
capable of. Harry thinks he might drown in it, and he clings tightly to him,
letting the belonging, the warmth, the love wash over him and it's so much more
than he's ever in his life hoped to feel.

"You want me," Sirius pants, breath hot and damp against Harry's neck as he
slides his lips down Harry's throat in a line of tender kisses, the fingers of
one hand bruising as they dig into Harry's arse a bit too hard, sliding up
under his skirt to brush against skin.

Thinking he should stop this, thinking this is wrong, Harry just tips his head
back against the wall and arches his neck into Sirius' mouth. Good and bad
aren't as clear as some people think, and Harry has never realised that more
than he does as Sirius' palm squeezes his arsecheek, fingertips tickling softly
against the undercurve and teasing down the crease...

"You do this to me, Harry, make me feel like this... Do you even fucking know
how you make me feel? Here," he mutters, voice strangled and pleading, and
Sirius' other hand reaches for Harry's, fingers twining with his intimately,
gentle and demanding as he pulls his hand slowly from thickly muscled thigh to
sharp-angled hip to bulging crotch, and suddenly Harry's palm is pressed
against Sirius' straining cock and all Harry can think is Sirius and then
Sirius' mouth opens against his throat again, his teeth sinking slowly into
tender flesh. 

Harry moans frantically, terrified and so turned on he can't see straight and
he turns his face into Sirius' hair and the scent of shampoo and sweat fills
his nostrils and blood fills his prick until it throbs painfully and he can't
see straight as everything spins dizzily out of control. Sirius slides his
palms up Harry's thighs, forcing his skirt up until cold air hits his skin.
He's practically naked with his skirt 'round his hips and Sirius picks him
right bloody up into the air like he's a toy and he is a toy, Sirius' toy,
wants to be everything Sirius has ever wanted wants to be perfect for Sirius
wants to please him wants him... and his back slams into the wall. Something
blunt and hard and huge presses against his arse and he moans in mingled fear
and unexplained, unknown longing, feeling so terribly empty....

All he wants is to be filled, and Sirius leans his forehead against Harry's
with a susurrant whisper. "Love you, Harry, so fucking beautiful, white skin
green eyes smelling of innocence and sleep, thighs around my waist... think you
could handle me?" 

And he steps forward closer, the heat of his cock the eye of the storm, a point
of perfect clarity amidst the roiling chaos and nothing makes sense except
the want, the aching desire for more, for something anything to fill the void
and Harry whines softly and writhes in Sirius' arms, back pushing against the
wall for leverage and legs wrapping more tightly around his waist. The
underside of his prick skates over Sirius' stomach, and possibility opens to
him, driving him to rub himself against Sirius, feeling the heady rush of
pleasure rack through him as Sirius' finger slowly penetrates his asshole with
tiny twists. 

Harry's mind explodes with all the ways he wants this and Sirius' voice fills
his ears, mellifluous and deep between his ragged breaths. "Look at you
sweating, sweating for me, want you to beg, Harry. Beg for my cock in your
pretty little arse, beg me to fuck you right here where anyone could catch
us..."

So wrong, Harry thinks, but it doesn't matter at all and he's so close, and he
thrusts against Sirius desperately, his back sliding up the wall, his shirt
rucked up around his shoulders and the friction stinging his tender skin and he
can't focus his gaze but he feels Sirius watching him, feels the intensity of
that gaze burning him like live coals and he moans because he knows the price
he's going to pay but he's not sure he can make it stop, not sure he wants to
stop, and who fucking cares and he needs something, deserves something, is
bloody well owed... They both deserve this, deserve each other, and no one has
the right to say they can't have that, no one...

"Open for me, Harry, want your sweet little hole gaping and hungry for me,"
Sirius murmurs, working his finger deliberately inside Harry's arse, circling
his tight hole firmly and stretching the muscle until it's exhausted and
throbbing... Harry feels it give, feels the moment when his defences surrender,
and Sirius smiles at him from beyond the lusthaze, from beyond Harry's half-
closed lids and the fog on his glasses. Blinking slowly, Harry smiles and
closes his eyes as his head rolls back, and he gives up, gives in, capitulates
to the promise of satisfaction inherent in Sirius' every movement. 

Prick slick with precome and his fingers reflexively clutching at nothing,
Harry rocks mindlessly against Sirius' fingers, grinds his erection against
Sirius' flat stomach and every movement earns him a gasp a sigh a growl and
"Reach in my pocket," he says, and Harry does, like an automaton, pulling the
little vial from Sirius' shirt and holding it blindly, clasping it in his hand
like a priceless treasure. 

"Open it." A command, and Harry half-snarls before he twists the top off with
shaking fingers, unable to think except to think that it's too much all at once
and his senses are overloaded and his arse aches and his cock is twitching and
Sirius smells like heaven and it's cold and anyone could see and it's
so wrong and he's never been more turned on in his whole ruddy life and even
though he hates being told what to do this is okay because Sirius wants him and
Harry has no fucking clue what he's doing anyway... 

The scent of herbs fills the air, sharp and bright, and Sirius' lips brush
against Harry's ear, sending a bone-jarring thrill though him, and he says,
"Dip your little fingers in it, Harry, and push them in with mine," and the
shock dazes him, leaving him blinking again, as though the world makes no sense
at all, and Sirius' teeth close on his earlobe, a vicious nip that snaps him
out of it. "Now," Sirius orders, and Harry obeys, dipping his fingers into the
slippery salve and forcing trembling muscles to move, reaching beneath his own
body to push his fingers into his arse beside Sirius', the vial falling
unheeded to the floor with a quiet clink. 

"Yes," Sirius moans, humid breath gusting over Harry's shoulder as he drops his
forehead to rest there, his body shaking against Harry's, and he gasps out,
"Fuck yourself, Harry, until you're ready for me, until you need me inside you
like I need to be there." 

Shuddering, Harry does; he slips his fingers deep within his own body, torn
between the worry that they'll be caught and fascination at the strange
sensations waking within him. 

"Stroke my cock," Sirius growls, his voice husky with need, and Harry fumbles a
moment reaching for it, wrapping his fingers around it and trying for the life
of him to figure out how it's going to fit, marvelling at how soft the skin is,
and how he can feel Sirius' heartbeat in the pulse of the big vein beneath the
pad of his thumb... It's enthralling and amazing and- "Slide onto me now,
Harry. Go slowly, and I'll help you."

Shifting gradually, Harry holds the head against his hole and lifts his hands
to clutch at Sirius' chest as he shudders and pushes down hard.

"Good boy, good... god, Harry, you sure you haven't done this?"

Harry blushes bright, skin flaming as he bites into his lip and grabs numbly at
Sirius' shoulder, shoving down onto Sirius' cock, and he gasps as the head
slowly eases inside his body, the taut muscles burning as he pushes harder and
feels the gradual slide of shaft past his entrance and inside him, and Sirius'
hands on his hips hold him still.

With a soft snarl, Sirius spins them, clutching Harry tightly against him and
slamming him into the portrait, shoving Harry's back right against his mother's
silently screaming canvas likeness. A wicked look of complete glee flits over
Sirius' face, and then he cants his hips and changes their angle
and thrusts and Harry thinks he might be losing his mind and everything slants
madly and the world slides sideways and he whimpers and rocks against Sirius,
rubbing and twisting and trying to turn himself inside out to hit that spot,
and fuck he didn't... can't... god... 

"Tell me you want it, and I'll give it to you," Sirius breathes, and Harry nods
breathlessly, eyes staring sightlessly at the distant ceiling, head lolling
straight back, mouth going dry in the chilly air as his jaw hangs open. "Say
it," he repeats, "Say it, say you need me to fuck you, tell me you need me to
fill you.... Do you want me deep inside you? Want me to come inside you and let
you stay full of me all day? Tell me you want me, Harry, need you to want
me..."

"Need," he gasps out, overwhelmed, "Please..."

"Mmm," Sirius moans, and Harry's throat tightens and his breath stops, and he
wants to scream but he can't find the air and suddenly he's so full, so full,
and the pressure moves maddeningly past that spot and he writhes helplessly,
wantonly, his skirt twisting around his waist and Sirius' hands steely and
punishing on his arse and his cock sliding against Sirius' stomach, and... 

Their bodies arch and flow and the steady up down slide slither drag against
the wall becomes the world, Sirius' broken whispers curses prayers washing over
him and Harry rides him like he's never known anything else, completely lost in
the perfection of the moment, of being filled - of being one - and he thinks he
might black out thinks it's all too fucking much and then Sirius speaks again
and his voice is every wet dream Harry's ever had.

"Come for me, Harry... all over me, want you clenching around me, want your
come on my skin, come on, Harry, fucking NOW," and Harry explodes, like a wave
like a fire flowing up burning through from soles of his feet to the top of his
head like summer coming from the bottom of his soul and blossoming through his
flesh warm and comfortable and beautiful and free...

Even as Harry floats in this dream of pleasure, he feels the painful jerk of
Sirius' hips into his arse, the rapid slam-thrust-slap of Sirius' cock driving
inside him frantically, the dull rhythmic thud of his balls against his arse as
his hips snap with desperate force, and Harry smiles through his dazed satiety,
and he whispers, "Want you, Sirius," and suddenly every muscle freezes, Sirius'
handsome face wreathed in shadow and silky black hair and carved into an
expression of utter bliss that borders on agony. Harry thinks he's never seen
anyone more perfect in his life. 

After what seems like eternity and can only be a few moments, Sirius pulls out
of him, and to Harry, it's like losing his soul. A whimper chokes from him and
Sirius holds him close, kisses his forehead and strokes his cheek, tells him
everything words can never say, and Harry pulls the Invisibility Cloak on and
goes up the stairs to bed, telling himself a story of how soon he can live here
always, soon he can be with Sirius always, always. And for the first time in
recent history, when Harry drifts into sleep, the nightmares stay far, far
away, and the anger inside him sleeps when he does.
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