
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/133285.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Remus/Sirius
  Character:
      Remus_Lupin, Sirius_Black
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-11-14 Words: 1051
****** Undeniable ******
by ThreeSidedOrchid
Summary
     An interlude, inspired by the 15 minute ficlet word 'Undeniable'.
     Part one of three interconnected ficlets.
Sirius closes his eyes tightly, trying to push away the urge. There is
something wrong with him. Something wrong with the need that makes his hand
slide down to the hem of his boxers, slip beneath, curl around warm, solid
flesh-- He takes a breath, lets it out slowly, draws his hand back up his
chest. His eyes open because the images and thoughts come all too easily with
them closed. He will not. Not again. Not here. Not with Remus beside him.
Asleep.
The room is all too clear, his eyes allowed too long to adjust. There isn't
much to see - white walls painted in shadow and moonlight, a desk, a
bookcase... Remus' room is so familiar to him now the objects have lost their
meaning, no longer capable of imparting details and insights of the other boy's
mind.
Sleep, sleep, his mind chants over, over again. He should be asleep. He should
be dreaming, warm and soundless as Remus. Instead the tightening in his chest
alerts him to his hand, having slipped again beneath the flimsy elastic
barricade, stroking once, twice.
Sharply he pulls his hand back, then freezes, eyes darting to Remus' still
form. There is something wrong with him, something wrong with the constant ache
in him, the humming vibration of need. He won't. He can't.
His hips push up, he bites his lip, imagining a weight on top of him, hyper
conscious of the reality around him. Remus' breathing is steady and deep, the
blankets soft and smelling of the other boy's hair. But the small motions of
his hips aren't enough, and he almost whimpers with need. He gives in, slips
his hand back beneath the covers, wraps his fingers around heated flesh.
Remus moves. In the sudden shift of mattress Sirius holds his body stiff as a
wand, mind filled with the white noise of terror, hand still wrapped around his
length.
"Siri?"
Though his own are closed, he can feel Remus' eyes on him, imagines their
sleepy innocence.
"Siri? It's okay"
That he hasn't been breathing is brought to his awareness by the sudden breath
that leaves him. It is soundless, a swift dropping of his chest that almost
hurts. He wants to speak, to say it's not, he knows it's not, knows there's
something wrong with him, Remus doesn't have to pretend. But the words refuse
to form in his throat.
"It's okay," shift of blankets like silt, and then the tips of Remus' fingers
are brushing against his side. His eyes snap open, though he cannot turn them
away from the dull landscape of ceiling.
"You need it, right?" the voice is hesitant, but the fingers grow more certain,
more pressure, as they move up the curve of his side and across his stomach.
Sirius' hand moves away from his cock of its own accord, like a magnet chased
by its equal.
The sound of his own breathing is loud in his ears, almost drowning out Remus'
words. Sirius manages to turn his head at last, meeting the other boy's eyes,
opening his mouth to speak.
"It's okay." And Remus' hand slides beneath the hem of his boxers.
Snapping his mouth shut manages to stop the moan, but he can tell Remus sees
his arousal in his eyes. Remus' expression is calm, so perfectly, acceptingly
calm as he wraps his hand around Sirius' cock and begins to stroke.
Heat, glorious and thick, spreads through him. It works its way through his
veins, up his spine, pushed further with ever stroke. His eyes are locked with
Remus' and he can see a banked fire of arousal in the other boy's eyes, though
it may only be a reflection of his own.
Faster, and his lips part to allow panting breaths. His hips move, pressing up
into Remus' hand, but he refuses to make a sound, forcing everything back down,
sending the energy to his hips, back, legs, to his hands as they fist in the
sheets.
"Let me hear you, Siri" Remus' thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, spreading
pre-come, slicking the heat of friction. Their heads tilt towards each other, a
scant few inches apart, and Remus' words are carried in the feel of hot breath
against Sirius' lips.
"It's okay."
Sweat dampens his forehead, the back of his neck. He can feel every muscle in
his body, tense, moving even as he holds himself back, wanting to arch his
back, wanting to scream.
"It's okay - let me hear you"
A cry escapes as a whimper, and Remus moves his hand faster, shifts his body
closer. The length of their bodies is almost touching, Sirius could map the
other's form from the heat between them.
"That's it, just like that."
And now he can't seem to stop the sounds - they escape, truncated and
desperate. His body tightens impossibly, drawing itself taut before release.
Remus tilts his head more, pressing his forehead, cool and dry against Sirius'.
"Just like that, Siri, It's okay"
The breathless words pull everything from him, his eyes breaking contact with
Remus' at last as he tosses his head back, spine arching up, up, his body
pushing towards some unreachable point behind the layers of pleasure. His
scream is deep, warrior-like with its mix of victory and defeat. He comes,
pulses of thick pleasure, and for one, brilliant moment nothing exists except
muscle, bone, and blood.
The sudden release leaves him boneless in the sheets, Remus' hand smoothing a
last few strokes over him. He removes his hand slowly, whispering a cleansing
charm that Sirius appreciates until the odd thought of the lack of evidence
there will be in the morning makes him almost wish the other weren't capable of
the wandless spell. Turning his head, his eyes meet Remus' again, and he is
about to say something, a thank you, an offer to reciprocate, anything. But
Remus stops him by leaning forward and kissing him in a chaste press of lips
before pulling back, just enough to distance them.
"Good night, Siri." Remus closes his eyes.
Sirius watches Remus' face for a few minutes, uncertain whether he should say
something, both wanting to and not, before his weakened energy gets the better
of him, and his own eyes close to the heavy darkness of sleep.
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