Porn for the Pushbutton Challenge
Mar. 13th, 2004 01:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Having already missed
makesmewannadie's smutty words challenge, I wanted to make sure to contribute to
nimori's Pushbutton Words Challenge. I used all up to 'dragul'. Yes, including 'dragul'. Very silly at times.
It's Sirius/Remus and I'd say it's PWPBWLOD - Porn without plot but with lots of dialogue. They just wouldn't shut up.
I realised that there is a good reason why I don't write Sirius/Remus. I don't have the right feeling for them. While writing Sirius/Severus I feel very confident about interaction and dialogues ("I hate you!" - "I hate you more!" - "I'll hex you!" - "I'll hex you first!" - bitelickmoan), my feel for the interaction between Sirius and Remus is rather wobbly. I don't think the fic's actually bad, but it's so - blah.
But there's fluff and sex in it, okay?
Title: Panic
Rating: R
Summary: Serious talk and silly sex.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Although I'm getting there...
"As godfathers go, I am a disgrace." The morose tone in which Sirius proclaimed the sentence stood in stark contrast to the confident saunter with which he strode into the room. Remus looked up from the scroll of parchment he was studying, frowning.
"You're not," he said, lightly. "If I had the choice, I'd gladly have you for my godfather."
"Would you?" Sirius' face split in his dog-like grin. "Why?"
"Because of the way you're sprawled in that chair," Remus said distractedly, waving an impatient hand. The moment the words left his mouth, he felt a sudden wave of heat rush through him and found his inner editor saying, 'What sort of geek gets turned on by "sprawl"?' He looked up at Sirius in confusion, who was watching him with a strangely intense expression in his eyes. 'Uh-oh,' the inner editor added. 'It's not the word you're turned on by.'
"Remus?" Sirius asked quietly. "What do you mean?"
"I don't mean-" Remus broke off, feeling strangely put off. "Look, Sirius, Harry can count himself happy to have you for a godfather. You've gone to death and back for him, for heaven's sake! What more can a man do for those he loves?"
"You know, all this dying and coming back to life business - it makes you think," Sirius said after a short pause, in the same oddly quiet voice.
"About what?"
"Everything. Life. And the sense thereof."
"I am scared now."
Sirius shook his head vehemently. "Don't be." He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes very dark. "I'm not."
Remus watched as Sirius' bony hand came to rest beside his own, fingers curled ever so slightly. He fought down the urge to leap up and run and forced himself to meet Sirius' gaze instead. "What are you then?"
"Confused," Sirius said frankly. "Ravenous. Desperate. But, not scared."
"Would it be safe to ask what you're ravenous for?"
"No."
Remus nodded and fell silent for a moment, thinking. "I am asking nevertheless," he said at last, softly.
He felt rather than heard Sirius moan as the other man glided forward smoothly and pressed his hot mouth to Remus'. "Please," Sirius whispered hungrily. "Please!"
Remus opened his mouth.
The slick tongue that forced his lips further apart tasted of wine and blackberries. Remus sucked it in, curling his own tongue around Sirius' and pulling, pulling until he could feel Sirius, Sirius' taste, Sirius' heat with every single nerve end in his lips, his palate and his throat. Sirius groaned hotly, sending vibrations through Remus' mouth. Thin fingers entangled themselves in Remus' hair, tugging, forcing his head back, and Sirius' mouth travelled down Remus' exposed throat. When he reached the junction between neck and shoulder, he bit down. Hard.
"Fuck," Remus groaned. "Bed?"
With a low moan, Sirius wrapped one arm around Remus' waist and hauled him up from the chair, pushing him backwards with the entire weight of his body. Remus gripped a fistful of Sirius' shirtfront. "Take this off," he growled.
"Why?" Sirius flashed a feral grin - and gasped as Remus' knuckles grazed a nipple.
"It's tacky." Remus' knees made contact with the edge of the bed and, overbalancing, he gripped Sirius' arm. Sirius pushed.
Remus hit the bed with a soft groan.
"Spangled shirts have long gone out of fashion, since the days of your dissolute youth," he said when he had regained his breath, watching Sirius, tall and arrogant, towering over him, his black hair dishevelled, his hard-on clearly accentuated in his Muggle-style trousers. Sirius' eyes were almost black, murky with desire. "Take it off, Sirius," Remus repeated in a hoarse whisper. He saw Sirius open his mouth, but no sound escaped him. Instead, his hands moved to the buttons of his ridiculously purple shirt, tearing them open. Remus shifted, his hand moving automatically to his crotch, adjusting himself.
"For someone with such an admirably sanguine temper," Sirius said, ripping his shirt open and revealing his thin torso and pale, scarred skin, "you look obscenely wanton." In one smooth motion, he slid onto the bed and straddled Remus' hips. Remus arched into his hands and their cocks brushed. "God!" said Sirius softly, biting his lip. His hair had fallen forward, obscuring his face like a thick, silky curtain. Remus propped himself up on his elbow and threaded his fingers through Sirius' hair.
"All right?"
Sirius lifted his head. His eyes were black puddles. "I don't know," he said.
Remus' hand slid lower, tracing the line of Sirius' cheekbone, the curve of his neck, his fingertips ghosting over prominent ribs. He flattened his palm against Sirius' firm stomach and felt the taut muscles quiver.
"All right," Remus said.
Gripping Sirius' around the waist, he flipped them both over and stretched out beside Sirius, who laid one arm across his face. "Pathetic," Sirius muttered through gritted teeth.
Remus, propped up on his elbow, looked down at him. "What?"
"Don't!"
"Don't what? And why are you so irritated?"
"Don't give me that let's-be-reasonable shit. - Asking why I'm irritated. The nerve of it!" Sirius removed his arm from his face and gave Remus a hard stare. "I know I'm a fucked-up psycho, so do me the courtesy not to pretend otherwise."
"Very well. As you wish. You are a sick fuck, Sirius, you've always been and you'll always be. Azkaban fucked you up completely, and your death experience destroyed what little sanity was left in that excuse of a brain you call your own. But you are my friend - God knows why - and I'd hate to see our friendship go down the drain after all these years. But, so God help me, if you ever again come rutting along all over me only to empty a bucketful of ice cubes the moment I get into the swing of things, I'll fucking break your bones and feed them to Buckbeak." Remus fell back on the bed, panting. "Fucking nutter," he murmured.
He felt Sirius' shoulder move against his, Sirius' whole body shake with helpless laughter, and huffed impatiently. "Oh, shut up!"
"Fuck, Remus?" Sirius managed, wiping his eyes. "I've never thought I'd live to hear you using so many profanities in one speech. And in combination with God, too!" He doubled up with laughter again. "Priceless!"
Remus seized him around the shoulders in an attempt to shake him back to his senses. However, when his hands made contact with Sirius' bare skin, Remus stopped dead. Sirius' laughter broke of abruptly.
"I never knew you've broken your clavicle," said Remus calmly, tracing his thumb along the sharp angle of Sirius' collarbone. Sirius was watching him from serious eyes.
"I lied," he said at last. "I am scared."
Remus' breath caught, but he kept his voice under control. "Your pace."
"Do you know what you're doing?" Sirius caught Remus' wrist and tugged gently.
"This, Sirius, is not exactly what I'd call diplomatic pillow talk."
"I mean," Sirius took a deep breath, "with a man."
Remus' hair fell into his face. "Yes." He lifted his head and met Sirius' gaze defiantly. "What? Do you think just because I'm not prancing around the house all camp and poncy I don't know what it's like? With a man?"
"I don't," said Sirius, his shoulders tense.
"I told you, it's your pace. So stop being such a prick," Remus said lightly. Sirius gave him a weak grin.
Remus' hand smoothed over Sirius' side and came to rest just above the man's hip, his thumb stroking lightly over Sirius' belly, brushing the fine hairs there, and he watched the pale skin of Sirius' chest flush with arousal. Wrapping a hand around Remus' hipbone, Sirius pulled him down, arching upwards at the same time.
"What do you want?" Remus whispered huskily.
"What is there?" Sirius' voice was hardly more than a puff of warm breath in Remus' ear.
"Do you want me to-" casting around for a word, Remus settled for, "take you?" He felt Sirius tense.
"You could take off your clothes first," Sirius suggested, pulling back slightly. "Here, let me-" The dishevelled robe fell to the floor in a whisper of fabric. As Remus pulled his shirt over his head, he felt strong hands trail up his flanks and let himself fall into Sirius' embrace. "What is it you want?" Sirius murmured into his hair.
His eyes closed, Remus leaned his forehead against Sirius' shoulder, soaking in the warmth and comfort provided by the other man's body. Sirius was too bony, all awkward angles and sharp edges, but he was firm and real, and he smelled so good. He was also trembling slightly, Remus noticed, with anticipation or nerves. Slowly, Remus unwrapped himself from Sirius' arms and eased them both back onto the bed.
"Turn over," he said in a thick voice, half expecting Sirius to object. Uncharacteristically subdued, Sirius complied, and Remus felt the dawning of hope that Sirius might be able to win the fight against the conditioning he experienced through Azkaban, which had left him with a fundamental fear of exposing his back to another person.
The Azkaban registration number tattooed beneath Sirius' shoulder blade gleamed in an eerie blue as Remus trailed his fingers along Sirius' spine, watching the pale skin break out in goose-flesh. When his fingers reached the small of Sirius' back, he felt a shudder run through the other man's body and, dizzy with emotion, leaned in and bit down on Sirius' earlobe, just visible in the tangle of black hair. The soft sigh that escaped Sirius' throat went straight to his cock. Remus shifted and pressed his groin into the side of Sirius' hip before he gave his ear another experimental lick. He was rewarded by a thin keening sound and the sight of Sirius' hand clenching around a fistful of pillow.
"You're mewling, Sirius," Remus muttered, applying tiny bites along Sirius' jaw.
"'M not."
"Yes, you are. Like a kitten."
"'M a dog." Sirius stretched his neck to give Remus better access to the delicate flesh of his throat.
"Kitten. Little fluffy one."
"Woof," Sirius said. "Whine. Bark."
"Not very convincing, sorry."
"Call me a kitten once more and I'll show you what big teeth this dog's got." Sirius turned onto his side, watching Remus slide lower along his chest. "Ah!"
"Kätzchen," Remus said. "That better?"
"Show-off," Sirius muttered.
"What?"
"You better safe up your language skills on some impressionable young thing instead of wasting them on me, you know," said Sirius, gasping only slightly as Remus' tongue danced around his nipple. "Takes more to make me swoon."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes."
"How about this, then?" In a flash, Remus' hand was pressed against the hard length of Sirius' erection, squeezing firmly.
"This- Ah!" Sirius gave a wordless cry, jerking up from the bed, and Remus grinned, flipped his thumb over the head of Sirius' cock and watched as Sirius' eyes went black when his orgasm washed over him.
"Kattunge," Remus said.
"Bastard," panted Sirius a few minutes later.
"You seemed to like it."
"You could have let me take off my trousers first."
Remus grinned.
"Judging from your smug expression, that was exactly what you were aiming at," said Sirius in that over-boisterous tone that made Remus' heart clench. "Therefore, I will not apologise for, um, my acting like a hormonal teenager." He gave Remus a long glance. "Why're you here?"
"You threw me on the bed, not long ago. Remember?"
"Why did you let me?"
"What is this going to be, Sirius?"
"Why can you never give a straight answer to anything?" Sirius huffed in irritation. "You're eternal side-stepping is driving me mad."
"Is that so?" Remus said quietly. "You're free to go, Sirius. I haven't bound to this bed."
"Fine." Sirius stood up abruptly and reached for his shirt.
"Fine."
Remus rolled off the other side of the bed and pulled on his robe. "I'll be in the bathroom if you need me."
He had almost reached the door, when he found himself being pushed up against the wall and Sirius' solid weight holding him in place.
"Sorry," came Sirius voice, muffled through his hair. "I'm an idiot, I know, to drive away the only person who's got the patience to deal with me."
"Oh, so that's what I am?" Remus felt increasingly irritated. Keeping up with Sirius' sudden mood swings had never been an easy task, even under the best circumstances. Doing so while he'd much rather deal with his - surprisingly still very vigorous - erection, bordered on impossible. "Only wanted for my patience?"
"Wanker," Sirius said.
"Only if you let me." The words had left his mouth before he could check himself, and he felt Sirius go rigid behind him.
"I'm sorry, I panicked," Sirius started speaking in a low voice very fast into Remus' hair. "I've... no idea what to do with you, and I wanted to live up to your expectations and, y'know, prove myself to be the... perfect lover, and I've not had sex for a longer time than I care to think about and it must have been really good because I don't remember it, and you deserve better than-"
"Shut up."
Sirius went very still.
"There is no such thing as a perfect lover," Remus breathed in deeply. "It is a phantasmagorical concept and I don't want to hear one more word about it. As to what to do with me," he snorted, "all you've got to do right now is move your left hand a bit further down and that'll do just fine for a start." He gasped at the speed with which Sirius' hand parted his robe and began tugging at the fastenings of his trousers. "Sirius..."
His trousers were yanked down his legs and looking down, Remus saw the glistening head of his cock disappearing in Sirius' fist. Sirius' heavy breath tickled his ear as he moved his hand up and down - a bit too harshly, but his rough palm created a delicious friction and after a few strokes, heat began pooling in his belly. Remus moaned.
"What-" Sirius began, but Remus cut him short with another moan.
"I'm getting there, Sirius. I'm - oh - getting there." He let his head fall back, his lips brushing against Sirius' stubbly jaw. "Faster."
"Yeah?"
"Now!"
The inexorable approach of his orgasm made Remus' knee buckle and, Sirius' arm wrapped securely around his waist, holding him in place, Remus let himself fall with a hungry gasp. "Impossible," he heard himself whimper, and,
"What?" came Sirius' voice as though from far away.
"Too much," he said with a frightful clarity, before the top of his head was blasted away and he sank against Sirius' chest, spending himself over the other man's hand.
Remus opened his eyes lazily, nestling into the warmth of Sirius body, who lay curled around him on the threadbare carpet. A hand was stroking his hair. Nice.
And there was a voice close to his ear, too.
"Dragul meu," Sirius whispered, shifting closer.
"Mmh?" Remus turned his head. Sirius grinned.
"You're not the only one who's mastered some foreign language or other."
"Yes, but while you did so to chat up girls, I studied for honest purposes."
"You know, I think I prefer you in the throes of passion," said Sirius seriously. "You're not quite so argumentative then."
"Are you prepared to bet?"
"I'm prepared to research." Sirius' breath hitched. "If I may."
Remus lowered his head, thinking. After watching him for a while, Sirius began to rise slowly.
"I'm sorry. I overstepped the line," he said stiffly, pulling his shirt closer around himself.
"No! It's just-" Remus extended a hand and gripped Sirius around the wrist. "I guess I panic too, from time to time. Only - with less drama."
A slow smile spread across Sirius' face, lighting up his eyes. "I can teach you to unleash the drama queen within," he said. "It's fun."
"Oh my God," said Remus. "Now, I am scared."
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
It's Sirius/Remus and I'd say it's PWPBWLOD - Porn without plot but with lots of dialogue. They just wouldn't shut up.
I realised that there is a good reason why I don't write Sirius/Remus. I don't have the right feeling for them. While writing Sirius/Severus I feel very confident about interaction and dialogues ("I hate you!" - "I hate you more!" - "I'll hex you!" - "I'll hex you first!" - bitelickmoan), my feel for the interaction between Sirius and Remus is rather wobbly. I don't think the fic's actually bad, but it's so - blah.
But there's fluff and sex in it, okay?
Title: Panic
Rating: R
Summary: Serious talk and silly sex.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Although I'm getting there...
"As godfathers go, I am a disgrace." The morose tone in which Sirius proclaimed the sentence stood in stark contrast to the confident saunter with which he strode into the room. Remus looked up from the scroll of parchment he was studying, frowning.
"You're not," he said, lightly. "If I had the choice, I'd gladly have you for my godfather."
"Would you?" Sirius' face split in his dog-like grin. "Why?"
"Because of the way you're sprawled in that chair," Remus said distractedly, waving an impatient hand. The moment the words left his mouth, he felt a sudden wave of heat rush through him and found his inner editor saying, 'What sort of geek gets turned on by "sprawl"?' He looked up at Sirius in confusion, who was watching him with a strangely intense expression in his eyes. 'Uh-oh,' the inner editor added. 'It's not the word you're turned on by.'
"Remus?" Sirius asked quietly. "What do you mean?"
"I don't mean-" Remus broke off, feeling strangely put off. "Look, Sirius, Harry can count himself happy to have you for a godfather. You've gone to death and back for him, for heaven's sake! What more can a man do for those he loves?"
"You know, all this dying and coming back to life business - it makes you think," Sirius said after a short pause, in the same oddly quiet voice.
"About what?"
"Everything. Life. And the sense thereof."
"I am scared now."
Sirius shook his head vehemently. "Don't be." He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes very dark. "I'm not."
Remus watched as Sirius' bony hand came to rest beside his own, fingers curled ever so slightly. He fought down the urge to leap up and run and forced himself to meet Sirius' gaze instead. "What are you then?"
"Confused," Sirius said frankly. "Ravenous. Desperate. But, not scared."
"Would it be safe to ask what you're ravenous for?"
"No."
Remus nodded and fell silent for a moment, thinking. "I am asking nevertheless," he said at last, softly.
He felt rather than heard Sirius moan as the other man glided forward smoothly and pressed his hot mouth to Remus'. "Please," Sirius whispered hungrily. "Please!"
Remus opened his mouth.
The slick tongue that forced his lips further apart tasted of wine and blackberries. Remus sucked it in, curling his own tongue around Sirius' and pulling, pulling until he could feel Sirius, Sirius' taste, Sirius' heat with every single nerve end in his lips, his palate and his throat. Sirius groaned hotly, sending vibrations through Remus' mouth. Thin fingers entangled themselves in Remus' hair, tugging, forcing his head back, and Sirius' mouth travelled down Remus' exposed throat. When he reached the junction between neck and shoulder, he bit down. Hard.
"Fuck," Remus groaned. "Bed?"
With a low moan, Sirius wrapped one arm around Remus' waist and hauled him up from the chair, pushing him backwards with the entire weight of his body. Remus gripped a fistful of Sirius' shirtfront. "Take this off," he growled.
"Why?" Sirius flashed a feral grin - and gasped as Remus' knuckles grazed a nipple.
"It's tacky." Remus' knees made contact with the edge of the bed and, overbalancing, he gripped Sirius' arm. Sirius pushed.
Remus hit the bed with a soft groan.
"Spangled shirts have long gone out of fashion, since the days of your dissolute youth," he said when he had regained his breath, watching Sirius, tall and arrogant, towering over him, his black hair dishevelled, his hard-on clearly accentuated in his Muggle-style trousers. Sirius' eyes were almost black, murky with desire. "Take it off, Sirius," Remus repeated in a hoarse whisper. He saw Sirius open his mouth, but no sound escaped him. Instead, his hands moved to the buttons of his ridiculously purple shirt, tearing them open. Remus shifted, his hand moving automatically to his crotch, adjusting himself.
"For someone with such an admirably sanguine temper," Sirius said, ripping his shirt open and revealing his thin torso and pale, scarred skin, "you look obscenely wanton." In one smooth motion, he slid onto the bed and straddled Remus' hips. Remus arched into his hands and their cocks brushed. "God!" said Sirius softly, biting his lip. His hair had fallen forward, obscuring his face like a thick, silky curtain. Remus propped himself up on his elbow and threaded his fingers through Sirius' hair.
"All right?"
Sirius lifted his head. His eyes were black puddles. "I don't know," he said.
Remus' hand slid lower, tracing the line of Sirius' cheekbone, the curve of his neck, his fingertips ghosting over prominent ribs. He flattened his palm against Sirius' firm stomach and felt the taut muscles quiver.
"All right," Remus said.
Gripping Sirius' around the waist, he flipped them both over and stretched out beside Sirius, who laid one arm across his face. "Pathetic," Sirius muttered through gritted teeth.
Remus, propped up on his elbow, looked down at him. "What?"
"Don't!"
"Don't what? And why are you so irritated?"
"Don't give me that let's-be-reasonable shit. - Asking why I'm irritated. The nerve of it!" Sirius removed his arm from his face and gave Remus a hard stare. "I know I'm a fucked-up psycho, so do me the courtesy not to pretend otherwise."
"Very well. As you wish. You are a sick fuck, Sirius, you've always been and you'll always be. Azkaban fucked you up completely, and your death experience destroyed what little sanity was left in that excuse of a brain you call your own. But you are my friend - God knows why - and I'd hate to see our friendship go down the drain after all these years. But, so God help me, if you ever again come rutting along all over me only to empty a bucketful of ice cubes the moment I get into the swing of things, I'll fucking break your bones and feed them to Buckbeak." Remus fell back on the bed, panting. "Fucking nutter," he murmured.
He felt Sirius' shoulder move against his, Sirius' whole body shake with helpless laughter, and huffed impatiently. "Oh, shut up!"
"Fuck, Remus?" Sirius managed, wiping his eyes. "I've never thought I'd live to hear you using so many profanities in one speech. And in combination with God, too!" He doubled up with laughter again. "Priceless!"
Remus seized him around the shoulders in an attempt to shake him back to his senses. However, when his hands made contact with Sirius' bare skin, Remus stopped dead. Sirius' laughter broke of abruptly.
"I never knew you've broken your clavicle," said Remus calmly, tracing his thumb along the sharp angle of Sirius' collarbone. Sirius was watching him from serious eyes.
"I lied," he said at last. "I am scared."
Remus' breath caught, but he kept his voice under control. "Your pace."
"Do you know what you're doing?" Sirius caught Remus' wrist and tugged gently.
"This, Sirius, is not exactly what I'd call diplomatic pillow talk."
"I mean," Sirius took a deep breath, "with a man."
Remus' hair fell into his face. "Yes." He lifted his head and met Sirius' gaze defiantly. "What? Do you think just because I'm not prancing around the house all camp and poncy I don't know what it's like? With a man?"
"I don't," said Sirius, his shoulders tense.
"I told you, it's your pace. So stop being such a prick," Remus said lightly. Sirius gave him a weak grin.
Remus' hand smoothed over Sirius' side and came to rest just above the man's hip, his thumb stroking lightly over Sirius' belly, brushing the fine hairs there, and he watched the pale skin of Sirius' chest flush with arousal. Wrapping a hand around Remus' hipbone, Sirius pulled him down, arching upwards at the same time.
"What do you want?" Remus whispered huskily.
"What is there?" Sirius' voice was hardly more than a puff of warm breath in Remus' ear.
"Do you want me to-" casting around for a word, Remus settled for, "take you?" He felt Sirius tense.
"You could take off your clothes first," Sirius suggested, pulling back slightly. "Here, let me-" The dishevelled robe fell to the floor in a whisper of fabric. As Remus pulled his shirt over his head, he felt strong hands trail up his flanks and let himself fall into Sirius' embrace. "What is it you want?" Sirius murmured into his hair.
His eyes closed, Remus leaned his forehead against Sirius' shoulder, soaking in the warmth and comfort provided by the other man's body. Sirius was too bony, all awkward angles and sharp edges, but he was firm and real, and he smelled so good. He was also trembling slightly, Remus noticed, with anticipation or nerves. Slowly, Remus unwrapped himself from Sirius' arms and eased them both back onto the bed.
"Turn over," he said in a thick voice, half expecting Sirius to object. Uncharacteristically subdued, Sirius complied, and Remus felt the dawning of hope that Sirius might be able to win the fight against the conditioning he experienced through Azkaban, which had left him with a fundamental fear of exposing his back to another person.
The Azkaban registration number tattooed beneath Sirius' shoulder blade gleamed in an eerie blue as Remus trailed his fingers along Sirius' spine, watching the pale skin break out in goose-flesh. When his fingers reached the small of Sirius' back, he felt a shudder run through the other man's body and, dizzy with emotion, leaned in and bit down on Sirius' earlobe, just visible in the tangle of black hair. The soft sigh that escaped Sirius' throat went straight to his cock. Remus shifted and pressed his groin into the side of Sirius' hip before he gave his ear another experimental lick. He was rewarded by a thin keening sound and the sight of Sirius' hand clenching around a fistful of pillow.
"You're mewling, Sirius," Remus muttered, applying tiny bites along Sirius' jaw.
"'M not."
"Yes, you are. Like a kitten."
"'M a dog." Sirius stretched his neck to give Remus better access to the delicate flesh of his throat.
"Kitten. Little fluffy one."
"Woof," Sirius said. "Whine. Bark."
"Not very convincing, sorry."
"Call me a kitten once more and I'll show you what big teeth this dog's got." Sirius turned onto his side, watching Remus slide lower along his chest. "Ah!"
"Kätzchen," Remus said. "That better?"
"Show-off," Sirius muttered.
"What?"
"You better safe up your language skills on some impressionable young thing instead of wasting them on me, you know," said Sirius, gasping only slightly as Remus' tongue danced around his nipple. "Takes more to make me swoon."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes."
"How about this, then?" In a flash, Remus' hand was pressed against the hard length of Sirius' erection, squeezing firmly.
"This- Ah!" Sirius gave a wordless cry, jerking up from the bed, and Remus grinned, flipped his thumb over the head of Sirius' cock and watched as Sirius' eyes went black when his orgasm washed over him.
"Kattunge," Remus said.
"Bastard," panted Sirius a few minutes later.
"You seemed to like it."
"You could have let me take off my trousers first."
Remus grinned.
"Judging from your smug expression, that was exactly what you were aiming at," said Sirius in that over-boisterous tone that made Remus' heart clench. "Therefore, I will not apologise for, um, my acting like a hormonal teenager." He gave Remus a long glance. "Why're you here?"
"You threw me on the bed, not long ago. Remember?"
"Why did you let me?"
"What is this going to be, Sirius?"
"Why can you never give a straight answer to anything?" Sirius huffed in irritation. "You're eternal side-stepping is driving me mad."
"Is that so?" Remus said quietly. "You're free to go, Sirius. I haven't bound to this bed."
"Fine." Sirius stood up abruptly and reached for his shirt.
"Fine."
Remus rolled off the other side of the bed and pulled on his robe. "I'll be in the bathroom if you need me."
He had almost reached the door, when he found himself being pushed up against the wall and Sirius' solid weight holding him in place.
"Sorry," came Sirius voice, muffled through his hair. "I'm an idiot, I know, to drive away the only person who's got the patience to deal with me."
"Oh, so that's what I am?" Remus felt increasingly irritated. Keeping up with Sirius' sudden mood swings had never been an easy task, even under the best circumstances. Doing so while he'd much rather deal with his - surprisingly still very vigorous - erection, bordered on impossible. "Only wanted for my patience?"
"Wanker," Sirius said.
"Only if you let me." The words had left his mouth before he could check himself, and he felt Sirius go rigid behind him.
"I'm sorry, I panicked," Sirius started speaking in a low voice very fast into Remus' hair. "I've... no idea what to do with you, and I wanted to live up to your expectations and, y'know, prove myself to be the... perfect lover, and I've not had sex for a longer time than I care to think about and it must have been really good because I don't remember it, and you deserve better than-"
"Shut up."
Sirius went very still.
"There is no such thing as a perfect lover," Remus breathed in deeply. "It is a phantasmagorical concept and I don't want to hear one more word about it. As to what to do with me," he snorted, "all you've got to do right now is move your left hand a bit further down and that'll do just fine for a start." He gasped at the speed with which Sirius' hand parted his robe and began tugging at the fastenings of his trousers. "Sirius..."
His trousers were yanked down his legs and looking down, Remus saw the glistening head of his cock disappearing in Sirius' fist. Sirius' heavy breath tickled his ear as he moved his hand up and down - a bit too harshly, but his rough palm created a delicious friction and after a few strokes, heat began pooling in his belly. Remus moaned.
"What-" Sirius began, but Remus cut him short with another moan.
"I'm getting there, Sirius. I'm - oh - getting there." He let his head fall back, his lips brushing against Sirius' stubbly jaw. "Faster."
"Yeah?"
"Now!"
The inexorable approach of his orgasm made Remus' knee buckle and, Sirius' arm wrapped securely around his waist, holding him in place, Remus let himself fall with a hungry gasp. "Impossible," he heard himself whimper, and,
"What?" came Sirius' voice as though from far away.
"Too much," he said with a frightful clarity, before the top of his head was blasted away and he sank against Sirius' chest, spending himself over the other man's hand.
Remus opened his eyes lazily, nestling into the warmth of Sirius body, who lay curled around him on the threadbare carpet. A hand was stroking his hair. Nice.
And there was a voice close to his ear, too.
"Dragul meu," Sirius whispered, shifting closer.
"Mmh?" Remus turned his head. Sirius grinned.
"You're not the only one who's mastered some foreign language or other."
"Yes, but while you did so to chat up girls, I studied for honest purposes."
"You know, I think I prefer you in the throes of passion," said Sirius seriously. "You're not quite so argumentative then."
"Are you prepared to bet?"
"I'm prepared to research." Sirius' breath hitched. "If I may."
Remus lowered his head, thinking. After watching him for a while, Sirius began to rise slowly.
"I'm sorry. I overstepped the line," he said stiffly, pulling his shirt closer around himself.
"No! It's just-" Remus extended a hand and gripped Sirius around the wrist. "I guess I panic too, from time to time. Only - with less drama."
A slow smile spread across Sirius' face, lighting up his eyes. "I can teach you to unleash the drama queen within," he said. "It's fun."
"Oh my God," said Remus. "Now, I am scared."