Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5222570.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Other
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin
  Character:
      Sirius_Black, Remus_Lupin, Peter_Pettigrew, James_Potter, Lily_Evans
      Potter
  Additional Tags:
      slight_kink, Daddy_Kink, Nonbinary_Sirius_Black, Agender_Sirius_Black,
      Marauders'_Era
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-11-16 Words: 2672
****** my spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs ******
by Itgoeson
Summary
     Sirius has always known that they loved Remus. It's as natural as
     breathing. And Remus, well. Remus loves them, too. Everyone else just
     loves to laugh at the two of them.
Notes
     I'm appalled at the filth I'm putting out into the world, I'm so
     sorry. Also, uh. I really oughtn't write porn. So here we are. I've
     always felt Sirius is both a.) Vietnamese and b.) agender af, so.
     There is that.
Sirius had known they’d love Remus all their life the first time they’d met,
Sirius’ hair short enough to please their mother and Remus’ tidy for once in
his life. He’d had a scar already, running up his forearm to the crease in his
elbow. Sirius hadn’t been sure what to make of him, beyond the crushing weight
in their chest, the need to be his best friend, to make sure he was happy.
Sirius had always felt a little too strongly about people – see James, who
they’d attached themself to as completely as possible even when they’d been
terrified about being a Gryffindor and terrified to speak out of turn and
terrified their father would put a hand painfully tight on their shoulder at
any moment for speaking out of turn. They had never overthought it. Eventually,
around the time they’d started to grow their hair out and maybe, possibly, look
a little longer at boys than girls, and maybe, possibly, start to think of
themselves as not-a-boy, they’d told James.
It had been horrendous, really. Once Sirius let themself talk, they couldn’t
stop, and it all stumbled out. The catalogue of scars they kept, the way Remus’
eyes turned just a bit more gold around the brown, the hazel drowned out by the
moon, closer to his time of the month. They’d talked and blushed and James had
refilled their cup of contraband firewhiskey more often than was probably a
good idea. Sirius had, according to James, described their wedding in
excruciating detail (the worst part being that Sirius didn’t doubt it in the
least).
James had been rolling his eyes at them since then. Even Peter had caught on,
laughing when he caught Sirius flushing red when Remus was still dripping after
a shower, passing them notes saying your competence boner is showing when Remus
would get spells right on the first try, brew potions almost as well as Lily.
(They insisted they hadn’t had to check, a couple times, that Peter was just
joking. Peter, the rat bastard, gleefully recounted the times they’d checked.)
Sirius, last year, had finally gotten their shit together (James had marched up
to Remus, slammed down a drawing of their wedding Sirius didn’t remember making
but was mortifyingly labeled with their handwriting, huffed “please fucking
deal with your puppy already, Lupin,” and stormed off. It was entirely possible
this was the morning after Sirius had spent the night in James bed with ice
cream and a particularly pathetic recounting of how Remus had been spellcasting
so excellently in Flitwick’s class. James later admitted that it was the lack
of innuendoes over Remus’ wandwork that drove him over the edge. Peter had
snorted milk out of his nose but was otherwise beaming).
Which was all to say that, standing in McGonagall’s class at shit-o’clock in
the morning wasn’t so bad with Remus by their side. It felt rather like a
blessing, actually, even if there was a fire spreading under their skin,
melting off their concentration and ribcage alike, leaving nothing but the
feeling of their heartbeat and the knowledge that, soon, they’d feel Remus’
pulse pounding alongside theirs. The two of them only had one class on Fridays,
miraculously opposite of James’ and Peter’s schedules.
They dutifully transformed toads into turnips, then shuffled out of class with
the crowd before Sirius grabbed Remus’ wrist, tugging him along to their room,
smiling as Remus laughed and generally tripped along.
At the staircase inside the tower, Remus tugged backwards, causing Sirius to
stumble a bit, allowing him to crowd against them, kissing the back of their
neck as he nudged them up the stairs.
“Excited today, aren’t we?” he growled.
Sirius moaned the slightest bit. It was nowhere near the full moon – they
wanted Remus present for this, feeling entirely in control and making all of
his own decisions – but there was always a feral edge to him. He hid it well,
but it was what made them so perfect together. Neither one had ever been able
to entirely tame the howling in their chests. It made it easier for Sirius to
scramble to open the door and shuffle in even while Remus scratched his teeth
over their shoulder, while he sucked a bruise into the nape of Sirius’ neck
while they kicked the door closed behind them.
It made it feel like the most natural thing, when they stripped off their robes
and shirt, when Remus pinned them to the wall to nip and suck his way down
their chest, across their shoulders.
They whined, pushing at Remus’ robes until he got the hint and began to shuck
his own clothing, kissing Sirius deeply once he’d stripped down to his boxers.
He laughed again before hitching Sirius up, keeping them pinned against the
wall to free a hand, groped them even as he bit at their lip, traced the line
of their jaw. It was bruising, sharp and jagged, and Sirius was laughing, too,
helplessly rutting against Remus’ stomach.
Remus pulled back without letting Sirius down, walking over to the bed, smiling
at Sirius’ whine and the way they started to tug at Remus hair, the way they
rolled their body against him.
He toppled onto his bed, trapping a squirming Sirius underneath. “My bed was
closer, you know,” they told him primly.
“Sirius, I am absolutely fucking you on my own sheets. Besides,” he muttered,
leaning in to suck on their earlobe, “you hate it when we get come on yours.”
Sirius laughed again, decidedly breathless as Remus ran his hand down their
chest and started to unbutton their pants one-handed.
“So how do you want this, baby, hmm?” He asked, halfway to breathless himself.
“Could rim you,” he made sure to watch Sirius’ face, finally pushing their
pants down enough to rub his hand, frustratingly soft, over their cock. “You
make the best sounds when I do that, baby. Could rim you until you come, just
from that. ‘Til you scream.” He swallowed, heat flushing through him, hand
rubbing faster over Sirius’ while he mouthed at their collarbone. “Think you
broke the silencing charm last time.”
Sirius moaning, rocking their hips up to meet Remus’ hand. “Could do. Could
also . . .” He broke off, letting out a high-pitched sigh as Remus licked a
stripe up his throat. “Could also fuck me.”
Remus finally pushed his hand into Sirius’ briefs and closed his hand around
their cock, giving it a slow, firm stroke. “Thought that was what we were
doing?” he teased.
Sirius threw their head back before shifting to flip their positions,
straddling Remus and wriggling to get their pants and underwear off. “If you
ever want an orgasm that’s not from your own hand, hand to heart, Lupin, you’re
gonna tone down the bitch a notch.”
Remus snorted. “You love my mouth.”
Sirius was finally naked, and they straddled Remus once more, grinding down on
his stomach. Remus’ hands came up to frame their hips, his breath catching as
Sirius ran their hands up their torso, one stopping to twist over a nipple
while the other trailed through their hair.
“Didn’t say you couldn’t get me off, love. Now are we doing this or not?”
Remus smacked Sirius’ side, smirking when they sucked in a breath. “Sure of
yourself there, aren’t you?”
Sirius dropped their head to stare at him, but there was something a little too
vulnerable in their eyes when they said, “You’re it for me, prick. Besides, you
can’t keep your mouth off me. Best redeeming quality.”
Remus twisted up and around to flip them again, pinning Sirius’ wrists with one
hand, groping for the lube he kept tucked between the mattress and the
headboard.
He kissed Sirius, wet and deep and just shy of sloppy, the way Sirius liked it,
while he slicked up his fingers and traced Sirius’ hole.
It wasn’t exactly new for either of them. Remus had given up bottoming fairly
quickly. He didn’t like the feeling of being out of control, and he missed out
on this – Sirius, face flushed, back arching, legs twined around Remus’ hips.
And Sirius did love this. (Privately, Remus rather thought it had to do with
Sirius’ need to be wanted, to be worth the effort and concentration of opening
them up, the attention and patience – but discretion was the better part of
valor, and he wouldn’t be the one to bring up Sirius’ varied hang-ups and
mental hiccups.)
As he slipped a fingertip in, massaging their rim before slipping out once more
to press against their perineum, Remus tried to keep himself from rutting
against the sheets.
“So good, baby,” Remus whispered between kisses, shifting his weight onto
Sirius to free his other hand, pushing their hair off their forehead and
pressing at their jaw on their next kiss.
Sirius’ body sang, the way Remus knew it would with the more confident
handling. They liked his weight, liked being surrounded. Remus didn’t pretend
he didn’t like it, either, moaning as he pumped his first finger deeper with
each thrust.
He pressed a kiss to the column of Sirius’ throat, reveling in their harsh
panting, the dark of their skin next to the startling pale of his hand resting
on his throat, the feel of them as he eased a second finger into his hole.
Remus bit gently at their pulse before sucking gently, minutely pressing his
fingers in and out, finally getting deep enough to curl them over Sirius’
prostate. He bit harder when Sirius made a punched-out noise, fingers jerking
back over it, desperately chasing the sounds tumbling from Sirius.
“Any day now, love,” Sirius groaned, impatience edging the words. They flopped
their hand towards the headboard, finding a condom tucked away.
Remus grunted, curling his fingers again, nipping at their jaw. “I’d tell you
to calm down for another minute and heel, but you know what they say about old
dogs and new tricks.”
He grinned as Sirius kicked at him lightly before settling back to put on the
condom. Sirius sighed something close to “finally,” and Remus smirked. “Not
there yet, baby,” he teased, spreading more lube on his fingers before adding a
third. “Wanted to put it on before I started get lube everywhere.” He scrunched
up his nose, smiling dopily when Sirius laughed at him.
Too soon by half, though, Sirius was letting out short whines and tugging at
his hair, pleading with Remus to “just fuck me already, please, shit, you feel
so good, Remus, please,” which was – not exactly something Remus could refuse.
He slipped his fingers out of Sirius, kissing the whimper from their mouth
while he slicked his cock and eased into Sirius.
He might have died a little, in that moment.
He grabbed at Sirius’ hands, pushing them to rest on his hips. “Let me know.
Let me know if it’s too fast or,” he breathed out, hitching his hips slowly,
resisting the urge to shove inside Sirius too fast, gulping in air and bracing
a hand on their ribs, the other twisting in their hair.
Sirius nodded, pupils blown, sweat shimmering over every bit of skin Remus
could see, head thrown back and chest heaving.
“Baby, baby,” he panted, finally seated entirely in Sirius and stilling his
hips, trying to give them time to adjust. Sirius nodded along, eyes closed,
taking a couple deep breaths before pushing Remus’ hips back a bit and pulling
them forward again in a slow, shallow thrust.
Both of them groaned, but only Remus seemed unable to shut up. “Baby, you feel
so good. Look at you, so good for me, so beautiful.”
Sirius’ eyes flashed open, the near-black of his irises almost
indistinguishable from the blown pupils even this close. “Keep saying that
shit, and I’m going to have to start calling you Daddy,” they hissed, mouth
twisting into the biggest smile Remus had seen them wear in memory.
He’d like to say it was the smile that made his cock jerk, the moan torn from
his throat even as he rolled his hips. “Gonna kill me, baby.” Then, as Sirius
arched their back and snaked a hand down to pump their cock, he groaned, “Fuck,
can’t complain though. Can’t. Shit, baby. Can’t hold off much longer.”
He nipped at Sirius’ jaw and reached down to thread his fingers’ through
Sirius’ on their cock, trying to keep the rhythm he’d mostly been able to keep,
losing it more the louder Sirius got.
Sirius was moaning with every breath, hand not on their cock still urging Remus
on, squeezing at his hip. Remus hoped he’d have bruises, complementary marks to
the set he’d left over Sirius’ neck and shoulders.
And then, abruptly, silence. Sirius jerked, shuddered, sighed, and everything
was wet and hot and perfect, their mouth open and eyes tightly shut. Remus
wished he were an artist, wished he could take a picture, could worship Sirius
for the rest of their lives.
Instead of prayer, though, all he had to give was the rhythm between them,
pumping in and out of Sirius through their orgasm and into his own, biting
again at Sirius’ shoulder, stilling.
Sirius hummed under him, running their hands over his back in sweeping
movements. When Remus picked his head up, he was halfway to sure that there
were cartoon hearts in Sirius’ eyes – but that could just be the soft flush
still warming their face, and the ridiculous thumping of his own heart.
He pulled out of Sirius, kissing them when they groaned a little at the
feeling. He pulled off the condom and tossed it in the trash, making a face at
Sirius when it made a wet plopping sound when it hit the bin, sending Sirius
into a laughing fit that dissolved into the two of them giggling, Remus with
his head on their shoulder, their hands twined together.
They wound down slowly, breath coming more slowly. Remus couldn’t stop smiling.
Sirius had yet to stop their thumb’s gentle sweeps over Remus’ hand.
After a while, lulled into a half-sleep by the lazy sunlight and Sirius’ steady
heartbeat, Remus realized what Sirius had said, earlier.
“You’re it for me,” Remus repeated, nuzzling into their shoulder. “And here I
was thinking the wedding design was just because James and Peter got you
spectacularly drunk while I was locked up in the infirmary.”
“Fuck off,” Sirius grunted, shifting onto their side.
Remus just moved with them, though, draping himself over their side, pressing
his smile into their shoulder.
Quietly, then, almost in a whisper – “Would do it, if we could. Knew you’d be
it for me when I saw you. Been planning it since second year. Just wouldn’t
have written it down without being spectacularly drunk.”
Remus laughed, running his hand up and down Sirius’ side. “Incriminating, I
guess. Peter’s probably already nicked it from James to give to Lily.”
Sirius gave a high-pitched whine. “Fuck my life. She’s gonna hold this over me
for years.”
“Like she didn’t already know. The two of you have been pretending you aren’t
best friends since first year.”
“The evidence, Remus. The evidence. It’d be like if I could finally find her
diary. She’d be so dead.”
Remus laughed. “You checked the floorboards, too?”
“If there’s a loose one, I haven’t found it yet.”
He buried his nose in Sirius’ hair, giving back a confession of his own. “I
don’t feel any different. I mean, fantastic sex but. I always thought you were
supposed to, change or something, after that.”
Sirius hummed. “I don’t, either. But it was just a new way of being us, I
guess. It’s not like. It’s not like I learned anything I didn’t already know.
If that’s.” They cleared their throat. “Not that that’s –”
“I do love you, too, you ass.” Remus settled more fully against them. “I know
what you mean.”
“You do love my ass,” Sirius shot back sleepily. They had time for a nap, they
decided, before Peter and James came back.
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