
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/351156.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Teddy_Lupin/James_Sirius_Potter
  Character:
      Teddy_Lupin, James_Sirius_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Plot_What_Plot, Crying_During_Sex, Author's_Favorite
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-03-04 Words: 1957
****** Sweet Sixteen ******
by grim_lupine
Summary
     Sixteen hits James like the Hogwarts Express, a growth spurt the
     likes of which he’s been dreaming of for years, legs long enough to
     trip him up when he forgets how different they are now.
     Legs long enough that it takes Teddy a good twelve seconds to look
     James all the way up, all the way down, when he comes back home from
     his six-month-long trip to France. James counts them off in his head,
     skin prickling, mouth dry.
Notes
     Warnings: Um, crying during sex? Of the slightly-overwhelmed variety,
     not the dubcon/noncon kind. All parties are super into it! (Of
     course, as always, if this reads differently to you, please let me
     know.) Also, James is 16 and Teddy is 22.
-
--
Sixteen hits James like the Hogwarts Express, a growth spurt the likes of which
he’s been dreaming of for years, legs long enough to trip him up when he
forgets how different they are now.
Legs long enough that it takes Teddy a good twelve seconds to look James all
the way up, all the way down, when he comes back home from his six-month-long
trip to France. James counts them off in his head, skin prickling, mouth dry.
“Finally grew, did we?” Teddy says at last, a strange smile on his face. James
is, shit, James is almost Teddy’s height, only a couple of inches off. Their
eyes meet so much easier now.
James swallows, says, “Probably not done, either. Are you going to cry if I end
up taller than you?”
That breaks the spell; Teddy laughs aloud, ducks James’s head down so he can
ruffle his hair thoroughly. James doesn’t catch that odd heat in his eyes
again, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it all day, or that night
when he buries his face in his pillow and fucks his own hand until he closes
his teeth over Teddy’s name and comes.
*
Sixteen means James can stretch up and knock his knuckles against the top of
the doorframe, now. Sixteen means sometimes his mum and dad go off on a case
together for a couple of nights, and they leave Al and Lily with Uncle Ron and
Aunt Hermione, but James makes pleading eyes at them and they decide he can be
trusted at home alone for a while. Sixteen means that when James hugs Teddy,
now, tight-armed and lingering, he has to stoop if he wants to tuck his head
into the crook of Teddy’s neck.
Sixteen means that James has been watching Teddy for three years now, stealing
glances at flashes of skin and insinuating himself into the unsuspecting
openness of Teddy’s arms; but now Teddy hesitates, Teddy falters, Teddy watches
him back.
*
“We can stop anytime you want to,” Teddy says insistently, even as James
spreads his legs open a little more so Teddy can settle between them. “I mean
it, anytime.” And then, half to himself, “Fuck, fuck, I can’t believe I’m doing
this.”
James bites his lip. Hooks his leg over Teddy’s shoulder and says in a voice
that comes out more pleading than he’d like, “Don’t go.”
Teddy’s face softens. His whole body melts downward, hips against the bed,
upper body cradled between James’s naked thighs.
“I won’t,” he promises, kisses the inside of James’s knee. James’s stomach
squirms hotly. “As much as I should, I won’t. I don’t have that kind of
willpower.”
“You’re so stupid,” James says breathlessly, digging his heel into Teddy’s
back. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you when I—since I was
thirteen, Teddy.”
Teddy’s expression wavers, and maybe putting the number out there was a bad
idea, reminding Teddy of the years between them, but there’s a momentary flare
in Teddy’s eyes that makes James think differently.
“Besides,” James says, some instinctive devil inside him that reads the
possessive curl of Teddy’s fingers around his thigh and makes him continue,
“it’s not like I’ve never had someone suck me off before, you know?”
Teddy lunges.
His mouth parts over the head of James’s cock, and he sinks down, down, down,
throat opening up tightly around James’s length with clear expertise, and James
howls, shocked blind even though he’d been mostly-expecting the retribution;
his hips buck, or they would, if Teddy weren’t holding him down easily with one
strong arm.
James hadn’t been lying about doing this before; two months back he got on his
knees for Michael Harrison behind Greenhouse 4, let him push his cock into
James’s mouth and pull his hair a bit, and James had closed his eyes and
wondered if he was supposed to like it that much. Michael reciprocated
politely, clumsily, and it’d taken all of two minutes since James had never had
a mouth on his cock before, but James had gotten the impression that Michael
hadn’t enjoyed it all that much.
Teddy and his fucking mouth are so far from that, they’re not even in the same
country. He pulls off James’s cock with an obscene pop that makes James’s
cheeks burn, laps at the head of James’s cock patiently until James threatens
to kick him, voice wavering. He sucks James’s cock in pulses, sloppy-wet,
cheeks hollowing, and he keeps making greedy sounds like he loves it.
James bites his own wrist so he doesn’t babble something wholly embarrassing
about Teddy’s mouth or accidentally propose marriage. Teddy looks up at James,
eyes a hot, brilliant amber, and takes James’s cock all the way in again,
throat working, and James is fucking sixteen, okay; his eyes slam shut, hips
bucking against Teddy’s arm, and he comes so hard he feels it in his teeth.
After a few minutes spent blinking dazedly at the ceiling, James looks down to
find Teddy licking his lips delicately, mouth swollen and pink.
“Fuck,” James says eloquently, and props himself up on shaky elbows. Teddy
ducks his head, and James catches a flash of his grin. “No laughing at me,”
James says, too thoroughly satisfied to work up a good bout of indignation.
“You should be completely amazed that I’m even forming words right now.”
Teddy lifts his head. There’s a smile still tugging at his lips, but his eyes
are clear, intent, paralyzing. “I’m not laughing, Jamie,” he says quietly, and
James physically can’t look away from him.
Teddy runs a thumb over James’s hipbone in a slow caress, moves out of the
cradle of James’s thighs and hisses under his breath as he undoes the button at
the top of his trousers. James realizes a minute later, after Teddy kicks out
of his clothes, that Teddy—stupidly noble Teddy, who just sucked James’s cock
like it was all he wanted out of life—is planning to just bring himself off now
out of some strange fear of asking too much of James. His fucking guilt
complex.
“Teddy,” James says, chiding. Yanks Teddy down and bats his hand away from his
own cock, says bluntly, even as he feels himself flush a little, “Don’t you
want to fuck me?”
“Fucking—James,” Teddy says, agonized, and James has to snicker.
“That is the general idea,” he agrees, looks up through his lashes in a manner
that’s been getting him his own way for years. It teases a smile from Teddy,
now, until it fades and he says seriously, “Jamie, we don’t have to.”
“I want to,” James says, and it’s a little terrifying to be so honest, so open,
but this is Teddy, who’s spent all sixteen years of James’s life giving him
whatever he wants. If he can’t be honest with Teddy, then who else?
Teddy looks at him intently for a long moment, searching his face, before he
leans down and kisses James firmly, lingeringly, until James’s mouth feels a
little hot.
“Okay,” Teddy says when he pulls back, voice quiet and a little ragged. James
shivers at the sound of it, fists his hands in the sheets on the bed.
James has had his own fingers inside himself before, came all over his sheets
the first time he tried it properly, shocked himself with how good it felt.
This is nothing like that; Teddy’s fingers are longer, the angle’s different,
he’s experienced. James squirms down on Teddy’s slicked fingers, fists his own
cock as Teddy murmurs, “Oh, fuck, Jamie—look at you,” sounding breathless and
wrecked. James chews his lip to tenderness, fluttering gasp caught in his
throat when Teddy nudges James’s prostate and bends his head to lick around his
fingers.
“Oh, oh,” James says, voice jumping high, mouth gaping open as he tries to
breathe; Teddy pins him to the bed with nothing but his fingers and the look in
his eyes, keeps him there until he’s beyond ready, sweat prickling his skin,
until he’s begging for more.
“Are you sure?” Teddy asks, when he pulls his fingers away, crinkle between his
eyebrows.
“I will murder you,” James gasps, “if you don’t—if you—”
Teddy kisses the rest of the words from his mouth, the threat apparently all
the assent he needed; he’s slow, pushes his cock into James so carefully, teeth
digging into the flesh of his lower lip.
It hurts. It hurts, but it’s so good, a thick stretch splitting James open and
vulnerable, and he’s been wanting this for so long, and it’s Teddy inside him;
James can’t breathe properly and he’s so hard he thinks he’d come if Teddy
breathed on him, and he feels like his chest has been split open under Teddy’s
gaze, like Teddy can see everything, and it’s overwhelming and amazing and he
never wants it to stop, and—
His eyes burn, fill, spill over; tears down his cheeks and he loves this so
much, but now Teddy probably thinks James is just a kid, a kid who can’t handle
this without crying (even if it’s not pain, it’s just that he’s feeling so
much), and fuck, Teddy won’t ever want to do this again—
“Oh,” Teddy gasps, and his hips stutter forward seemingly involuntarily, push
him back into James with all the force he’s been holding back till now; his
eyes are wide as he stares down at James, at the tears James can feel hot and
sticky on his cheeks. It’s only for a split second—before Teddy blinks, mouth
crumpling, and he say urgently, “Jamie, are you—do you want to stop? We can
stop, right now, I promise.”—but for that split second, James knows what’s on
Teddy’s face: not disdain, or worry, but something wanting. A kind of awe,
visceral.
James shakes his head, tighten his legs around Teddy. “It’s good,” he says
brokenly, pushes himself up onto Teddy’s cock, means don’t stop, never stop. He
widens his eyes to keep the tears down; it works, a little bit. James feels two
of them roll down; his eyelashes clump together, sticky. Teddy groans low in
his throat, and then he’s dipping his head to lick the salt from James’s cheek,
the tear that splashed onto his lip. He kisses James’s eyes as they flutter
closed, shoulders James’s leg higher and fucks into him again, steady thrusts
with an edge of desperation, now.
Teddy doesn’t want to hurt him, James knows. That’s not what this is. Teddy’s
working himself into James, body and mind, pulling everything inside of James
out in the open for Teddy to see, making him feel everything. James loves it,
needs it. Why wouldn’t Teddy?
James is oversensitive and hot all over, shaking apart. Teddy kisses his mouth
sweetly, runs his knuckles gently down James’s throat, calls him Jamie, and
James feels ten feet tall and beautiful under the heat of Teddy’s eyes.
Teddy drives into him, hot drag of his cock inside James, unerring aim against
James’s prostate, and James’s vision is so blurry that Teddy looks like a blue-
haired haze, a beacon, and in this moment James feels like he was made for just
this, to open up for Teddy and take everything Teddy gives him.
James comes the minute Teddy closes his hand around James’s cock, sobbing and
shaking, burying his wet face against Teddy’s chest. Teddy eases the force of
his thrusts, murmuring sweet words into James’s hair, kissing whatever part of
James he can reach until James lifts his head and kisses him properly, and it’s
the taste of James’s tears that Teddy has on his lips when he stills, and
breathes brokenly against James’s mouth, and comes.
--
-
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