Then again, Remus can’t remember when he has last had a better idea.
Sirius is mouthing softly at the little patch of skin just below Remus’ ear, and the touch sends pleasant shivers down his spine. His breathing deepens, his grip on his friend’s dark hair tightening ever so slightly while his free hand pushes Sirius’ shirt up over his back, eager for the warm skin beneath. Four days... four fucking days with nothing to keep them going but some fleeting kisses and furtive touching in dark corners. If Remus ever finds out who came up with the idea of dorm rooms, he’s going to hex that guy into oblivion.
Sirius’ mouth travels languidly across his throat and then up over his chin, breathing hot moisture onto his lips. Remus wraps an arm around his neck and tilts his head up, but Sirius keeps himself just out of reach. Instead, he uses his tongue to playfully lick and dab a nonsensical pattern onto his lover’s mouth
The sensual touch shoots heat and lust through Remus’ entire body, and his patience snaps. With lightning speed, he grabs Sirius’ chin firmly in one hand and pulls him down for their mouths to meet. Sirius barely manages a surprised “Mmh!”, but that short moment is enough for Remus to catch his boyfriend’s wayward tongue with his own.
He adores Sirius’ way of kissing: like he means to make love with his mouth and tongue. The familiar blend of butter beer and peppermint sends a hot, prickling sensation straight into his groin, makes him much too hard far too quick, and Sirius must have felt it because his lips curve into a triumphant smirk.
Right now, though, Remus is definitely not in the mood for such follies. He retaliates by shoving his fingers into his lover’s belt loops, tugging none-too gently until finally, those slim hips do him the favor and slip between his spread thighs.
Sirius exhales sharply at the sudden contact, the sound accompanied by first one, and then another deep shudder when Remus slips both hands beneath his shirt to stroke the smooth muscles he finds there. Sirius feels obligated to even the score by gently biting Remus’ upper lip; their tongues wrap around each other, and Remus imitates the movement with both arms and legs to gain some leverage as he thrusts his hips up into his lover’s.
Sirius groans, but is obviously not ready yet to admit defeat. Since his teeth are in the neighborhood anyway, he uses them to gently nibble and tug at Remus’ bottom lip, and Remus answers with another thrust of his hips. The little tit for tat begins to settle into a rhythm, unhurried at first, but soon enough they’re both panting for breath and have to bring some space between them, so the game won’t end before it’s properly started.
“No kidding, mate,” Sirius murmurs into Remus’ neck. “We need to do this more often. Three, four times a day would be good.”
“Less talking,” Remus murmurs back, “more kissing.”
“Can’t,” Sirius says, nuzzling the skin just above Remus’ collar and inhaling deeply. “Too much fabric down here.”
With a growl, Remus pushes him off so he can sit up and make short work of his shirt buttons. Merlin, does he have to do everything by himself tonight? He still has to give his lover some credit, though. Kneeling before him, Sirius watches in fascination as the shirt is carelessly discarded, then he grabs the sleeves of his own garment and starts to oh so slowly pull it over his head, clearly putting on a show for his friend.
Though very much appreciated, the effort is barely necessary. Never in his life will Remus tire of looking at the well-defined muscles appearing from under the fabric. There are some definite advantages of your boyfriend training for the Quidditch Cup on a regular basis. Sirius’ dark hair tumbles down onto his shoulders, and Remus can’t keep his hands to himself any longer. He curls his fingers around Sirius’ waist and pulls him close to drag his tongue over all that smooth, creamy skin, licking a broad stripe from navel to chest. Salt and heat fill his mouth, and he takes a moment to savor the sensation while Sirius supports himself on his shoulders, breathing heavily. Remus’ soft, thoughtful “Hmm” makes him twitch slightly.
Remus smirks at him. “I can’t decide where to start. Here...” He licks a nipple, making Sirius gasp, while at the same time his hand brushes over the auspicious bulge in his lover’s jeans. “...or here.”
Sirius swears under his breath, and the next moment Remus finds himself grabbed by his upper arms and pushed back down onto the worn blanket they have spread on the ground. Even in the dim light of their wands, there is no way for him to miss the predatory glint in his boyfriend’s eyes. “You are so in for it, Lupin,” he hisses.
Remus is trembling all over by now. Boy, he must be severely under-laid when the sight of his lover above him is enough to drive him crazy. “Bring it on,” he breathes, and to make the urgency of the situation undoubtedly clear, he cradles Sirius’ curly head in his hands and pulls him down, gently hugging him to his chest.
Not that Sirius is in any need of encouragement. His hot, wet mouth closes over a nipple, licking, sucking and biting with such reckless abandon that all Remus can offer in return are gasps and throaty moans. Sirius drags his nails gently down his arms, creating a small, pleasurable sting, and Remus knows that if he allows this to continue, his hard-on will be sure to bust his trousers. “Pads,” he groans.
Sirius grabs his hips and pushes himself down along Remus’ body, his tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake. With bated breath, Remus listens to the soft, clinking noises as first his belt, then his buttons are undone, and he can’t help but snigger when he glances down to see his lover pulling the zipper open with his teeth. “You’re such a big child,” he admonishes gently.
Sirius grins at him and reaches for his wand. “Now what’s that little spell you’re so fond of? Apertare?”
Remus sighs in relief when, with a flicker of magic, the rest of his clothing vanishes into thin air, leaving only a pleasant tingle where constricting fabric used to be just a moment ago. The air feels cool on his hot skin, despite a hastily-cast heating charm, but Sirius is back on top of him within a heartbeat, stroking and fondling and breathing searing heat onto Remus’ achingly hard cock, making his breath catch. “Sirius!”
His lover gives a soft hum in response as he buries his face in the coarse dark hair between Remus’ thighs, purring like a happy kitten. Remus feels him wriggle and squirm to find a comfortable position, and suddenly there is a warm, wet tongue on his cock, licking him slowly, thoroughly from root to tip before it dips into the little slit in the crown, greedily lapping at the salty droplets there as if they were made of honey. Remus trembles and moans and cards his fingers through Sirius’ dark curls in desperate need of something to hold on to. “Oh Merlin,” he whispers into the night sky.
Sirius huffs in amusement, but is not distracted. His mouth slides back down, and all Remus can do is to try and keep breathing through the surges of heat that rock his whole body when his lover starts to gently lick and nibble at his testes. God, he will not survive this. That mouth, that tongue will be his downfall, and his tombstone will read that Remus Lupin died a happy man because Sirius Black went down on him once too often.
Sirius’ lips close around him once more, firm and warm, and his tongue proceeds to do the most delightful, wicked things while his fingers tease and caress all the sensitive little spots his mouth is presently not able to reach. Remus can’t help it; he thrusts his hips up into that willing mouth, panting in near desperation as his fingers open and close spasmodically in Sirius’ dark hair. Oh Merlin, it’s too much, it’s too good, he won’t last...
A part of him is somewhat disconcerted at how quickly his climax hits, but the sensation is so wonderful and perfect that it brings tears of relief to his eyes. The wolf in Remus howls in triumph as surges of heat rip through his body, and he groans in helpless pleasure, pressing his lover’s head deeper into his lap. The effort is somewhat wasted, though, for Sirius has practically adhered himself to Remus’ cock and refuses to budge until he has tenderly cleaned away every last drop his lover has to offer.
Remus slumps back down onto the blanket, exhausted but thoroughly enjoying the mild aftershocks that shiver through his body as his cock gently slides out of Sirius’ mouth. He lies unmoving for a few moments, trying to recover his breath, then he feels a movement against his leg and lets his head fall to the side so he can look down at his lover.
Sirius still has his face buried deeply in Remus’ lap, obviously trying to stifle his moans there. One hand clasps Remus’ thigh tightly while he’s shoved the other down into his trousers, working himself over with a ferocity that sharply contrasts the tenderness he has only just shown his lover. Remus holds himself very still to not distract him, only runs his fingers gently through his friend’s black tresses.
Sirius is panting and swearing under his breath, then suddenly his body goes rigid, and the sound he makes is a droll combination of a grunt and a squeak. He shudders and twitches, then he slumps down and lies motionless, groaning softly.
Remus smiles to himself, reaching down to gently peel his lover’s fingers away from his leg, and a fierce satisfaction fills him knowing that there will be bruises tomorrow. In the faint light of the remaining wand, a thin sheen of sweat glistens on Sirius’ back. He neither moves nor protests in any way, but he grabs hold of Remus’ hand as it touches his, interlacing their fingers, and they stay like this for a while, resting together.
A frog croaks somewhere down by the lakeside. Remus listens to his gradually slowing heartbeat, lost in thought while he cards his fingers through Sirius’ hair. A slight breeze has sprung up and makes his skin erupt into pleasant goose bumps. He tugs at Sirius’ earlobe affectionately. “Hey,” he whispers.
Sirius raises his head from Remus’ thigh, blinking up at him. He smiles softly, and Remus smiles back. “Hey,” he says again. “Come here.”
Sirius heaves himself up and crawls forward on his hands and knees. Remus catches him around the waist, and his lover sinks down on top of him and fuses their mouths together in one single, smooth movement.
The kiss is languid and deep and possessive and profoundly sexual; everything Remus has longed for these past four days. He wraps his arms around Sirius’ back and neck, moaning softly as a clever tongue strokes his upper lip with feather-light touches. God, he loves that mouth so much... The manufacturers of Bertie Bott’s beans should really think about broadening their range of flavors, he muses. Butterbeer and peppermint with a heavy note of bitter saltiness and just a hint of Sirius... those people could make a fortune.
It irritates him to no end that they have to stop kissing just to catch their breath. Sirius rolls off of him with a grunt and settles onto his back, panting slightly. “I missed you,” he whispers.
Remus chuckles and bumps his shoulder gently. “I wasn’t even gone, Romeo,” he teases.
“You know what I mean,” Sirius says softly, and Remus sobers immediately. He rolls onto his side, shuffling close so that their heads are touching. “Yes,” he whispers. “I’ve missed you, too.”
Sirius takes a deep breath, slipping his free hand under his head. “I just wonder how other couples handle this,” he states offhandedly. “I mean, we can’t be the only ones who want to have a shag from time to time, can we? All the others sneak out for that, too?”
Remus snorts with laughter as the image takes hold in his mind. Rolling on top of his boyfriend, he pokes Sirius in the ribs playfully. “Who cares? I’m only interested in where we do it.” He drops a kiss on Sirius’ nose. “And when.” Kiss on the mouth. “And how often...” Kiss on the neck.
Sirius grins blurrily, stroking Remus’ upper arms with warm, gentle hands. “I’ll do you however you want it,” he says.
The wolf in Remus whines approvingly when his human counterpart begins to lick salt and sweat off of Sirius’ skin with unabashed delight. Grooming his mate is a task Moony takes very seriously, so Remus lets him take the reins for a while, until the cool denim of Sirius’ jeans brings a halt to the slow yet steady downward movement of his hand. “Ah yes,” he murmurs. “Speaking of shagging...” He hooks his fingers under the smooth material, giving it a playful tug. “Did you plan to take these off?”
Sirius makes a big show of considering the question, while at the same time his hands are busy getting intimately acquainted with the shape and feel of Remus’ buttocks. “Dunno,” he says. “How do I know it’s worth the trouble?”
And since he can’t possibly leave this unanswered, Remus slides his hand down into Sirius’ open fly with gentle determination, fitting his lover’s beginning erection snugly into his palm.
“Oh,” he purrs as Sirius gasps quietly. “Wanna bet?”
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth,
For his mouth is sweetness itself,
Drench lilies in the finest myrrh,
And you shall know the fragrance of his lips.
The Song of Songs