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A Foolish Arrangement

The more Remus thought about it, the more certain he became that 'annoyed' didn't begin to describe his state of mind.

Remus/Sirius  |  NC-17  |  1,900 words  |  April 2005
warnings: spanking, light bondage

*

Sirius had disappeared again. Sirius disappeared every night he could get away with it, and of course Sirius was the only person ever to have escaped Azkaban, and so escaping Twelve Grimmauld Place hardly seemed a challenge.

One night he hadn’t even bothered escaping. All the Order members save Remus were out on missions of vital importance, and Sirius took the opportunity to walk right out the front door, a shadow of his old mischievous grin on his face. Remus stood near the stairs with his arms crossed over his chest and Sirius winked at him and said, "Don't tell on me, Moony." It was clear from his tone he believed nothing could be more preposterous.

Everything about the situation annoyed Remus. Having Sirius back made them both sixteen again, but in all the wrong ways. The past months had been spent watching Sirius put his life in danger and flaunt all the rules while Remus stood idly by and watched and never once reported anything remotely useful to Dumbledore. In fact, the more Remus thought about it, the more certain he became that 'annoyed' didn't begin to describe his state of mind.

*

Sirius stumbled into his mausoleum of a house at half-three in the morning, reeking of Muggles -- their cigarettes, their alcohol, their strange sticky lubricant. He glared at the curtain hiding his mother, wondered if portraits could smell. He hoped so.

He lurched up the stairs, threw open the door to his bedroom, and stopped dead in his tracks. The fireplace was lit, and there was someone sitting in the leather wingback, hidden in shadow.

"Moony?" he croaked hopefully.

"Have a good time?"

Until that very second, Sirius had thought he'd be relieved to discover it was only Remus in his room, but there was something wrong. Remus' voice was cold, and Sirius could hear the subtle clink of ice against glass, could just make out flashes of amber in the firelight.

"Not really," he said, trying to be careful what he said but having a hard time, pissed as he was. "Are you drunk?"

"Rather less than you, I should say."

It was bothering him that he couldn't see Remus. "Yeah," he said, and dragged a hand through his hair. "Look, is everything all right? Can we do this--" he gestured vaguely between them in an attempt to show that he had no idea what 'this' was. "--tomorrow? I need to get some sleep."

"No."

"Right," he muttered. He wasn't sure how to deal with this new Remus, all brittle and battered and stretched. He knew things couldn't go back to the way they were before Azkaban and Voldemort, but he wasn't sure how to go about changing them. Instead he'd fallen into old patterns and avoided old friends. It probably wasn't the best strategy, but change needed to wait for sobriety. He tugged his shirt over his head, threw it in the corner, and headed for the bed. "Right," he said again. "Do what you want. I'm going to bed."

"You're not supposed to leave the house."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Is that what this is about?" He reached for his belt. "Sorry, Moony, but I'm bored, and it's not as if anyone's going to recognize me in those crap Muggle pubs I've been going to."

"Unless they happen to read the newspapers."

"Not bloody likely," Sirius snorted. He toed his shoes off and kicked them across the room.

"You smell terrible."

"Hey, there's no need to be insulting. Your overdeveloped werewolf senses aren't my fault."

"This isn't amusing, Sirius."

Sirius pushed his jeans down over his hips and tried not to topple over. "Who's laughing? Do I look like I'm laughing?"

"No, you look like you're stuck in your trousers."

It was true. Every time he nearly got one foot out, the jeans tangled themselves around his other leg. It was getting increasingly difficult to stay upright. "Bloody hell," Sirius snarled. "I didn't think I was that pissed." He cursed again as the left jeans leg attacked his calf. "Well, don't just sit there. Help me get these damned things off!"

"Of course," Remus said. "Hop on over here, then."

Sirius stopped and looked over at Remus, who was still hidden in the shadows. "You have got to be kidding."

"Not at all. Hop."

Sirius hopped.

"Just a bit more," Remus said. "Over here." He pointed to the patch of floor next to his chair.

"How're you going to help me from there?" Sirius grumbled, but hopped over nonetheless. At least he'd be able to see Remus from there; that was something, anyway.

"Right," Remus said. Then he reached up, grabbed Sirius' neck, and pulled him forwards and down. Sirius' hands came up automatically to brace himself against one of the arms of the chair.

"What are you doing?!" It was almost a yelp.

"Helping," Remus said. "Calm down."

The pressure on Sirius' neck didn't ease, and he found himself draped over Remus' lap, arse in the air. He wrenched his head around, trying to look at Remus, but he didn't bend that way.

"Hmm," Remus said. "I believe your jeans are stuck."

"Bloody fucking brilliant observation, Remus. Get them off-- ow!"

Remus' hand came down hard on Sirius' arse, the loud smack reverberating through the room. In shock, Sirius tried to sit up, but Remus had him pinned. His traitorous jeans weren't helping matters; they'd tightened around his ankles and weren't moving.

"You're not to leave the house, Sirius," Remus said, his voice hard and a little unfamiliar. His hand smacked down on Sirius' other cheek. "It's dangerous." Another smack. "You could get hurt." Smack. "Or killed." Smack. "Or sent back to Azkaban." Smack. "And we wouldn't want that." Smack. "Would we?"

"What?" Sirius tried to concentrate on what Remus was saying, but it was a bit difficult. His arse was stinging, and the heat was spreading to his cock. Remus wasn't spanking him very hard, and although it was a bit hard to wrap his mind round the concept of Remus spanking him at all, he wasn't hating it. He squirmed, trying to rub his hardening cock against Remus' thigh. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite get close enough; it was very frustrating.

"Azkaban," Remus repeated, a bit louder. He brought his hand down harder, presumably for emphasis.

"Mmm," Sirius said, squirming a bit more. "Azkaban."

Remus brought his hand down hard.

"Ow!" That one had actually hurt. Sirius tried to look back at Remus, but his neck still didn't turn that far.

"'Mmm, Azkaban' is not an acceptable response, Sirius. Ever."

"Sorry," he grumbled. "I was distracted."

"Then I suggest you pay attention," Remus said, punctuating the last two words with two hard smacks.

"I am paying attention!" His arse was burning, each smack sending a brief flare of pain over his skin.

"You're not," Remus insisted. "You're not to leave the house." Several more smacks, each harder than the last. "Say it."

"I-- ow! All right, all right! I won't leave the house!"

"Good," Remus said, still bringing his hand down, but easing up the pressure. "Say it again."

"I won't leave the-- oh!"

Remus slid his hands -- his cool, soothing hands -- underneath Sirius' boxers and tugged them down to mid-thigh. After several quick, sharp slaps to his bare skin, Sirius' arse was on fire and his cock was fully hard. He kept squirming, trying to get close enough to Remus to rub himself against his leg, but the chair was in the way.

"Why'd you leave, Sirius?"

"Really, Remus, do we have to talk now?"

In answer, Remus brought his hand down hard on the sensitive underside of Sirius' arsecheeks. Sirius sucked in his breath.

"Tell me," Remus ordered. His hands trailed softly over Sirius' burning skin, and Sirius arched upwards, trying to get closer. Remus was teasing him, he was sure of it, inching up the insides of his thighs, easing closer to his cleft. He squirmed a little more, desperate for contact.

"What?" Sirius shook his head, trying to clear it. Remus was very distracting.

"Tell me why you left."

"Oh, that," Sirius said. "I was bored." That wasn't all of it, but it seemed like enough.

Everything swirled for a moment, and Sirius realized that Remus had crossed his legs, bringing one thigh up to press against Sirius' cock. Sirius, most of his weight now on Remus instead of the sticky leather chair, sighed in relief.

"Ah," Remus said. One hand came to rest on the small of Sirius' back, and then there was a popping noise. Sirius knew better than to try looking, but he did anyway, not that it did him any good. The hand left for an instant, and then Remus was nudging his thighs apart, sliding -- finally! -- long, slick fingers around Sirius' hole. Sirius wasn't sure if he should thrust up or down, and settled for writhing a bit frantically.

"Are you bored now?" Remus asked, fingers gently probing Sirius' hole.

"Are you insane now?" Sirius shot back, gasping as one long finger slid inside him.

"A bit," Remus said, pushing another finger inside.

Sirius ground his hips down into the rough wool of Remus' robes, craving the friction. He could feel the pressure building in his balls as Remus' fingers fucked into him, but he knew it wasn't going to be enough. He still felt hollow, strangely empty. "More," he gasped out. "Harder."

He could feel himself stretching around Remus' hand as he slid a third finger inside and twisted. Remus was coming dangerously close to his prostate, and Sirius was coming dangerously closer to coming all over Remus. Remus braced one hand on the small of Sirius' back, holding him down, and then spread his fingers slightly and pushed them harder into Sirius.

Sirius grabbed for the bottom edge of the chair, needing something to hang onto, still trying desperately to rub his cock against Remus' thigh. He wished he had something to bite. "Yeah," he breathed. "I-- oh, fuck."

The hand on Sirius' lower back lifted a bit, giving Sirius a little room to maneuver, and his hips began jerking helplessly into Remus' lap. Then Remus twisted his fingers again, started brushing Sirius' prostate with every thrust, setting off a series of explosions that ran up Sirius' spine and exploded behind Sirius' eyes.

Sirius was suddenly hypersensitive to everything -- the way one side of his body was so much warmer than the other, the sticky leather of the chair underneath his chest, Remus' nails digging into the small of his back, the rough wool of Remus' robes rubbing against his cock, Remus' own hard cock pressing against Sirius' side. The pressure in his balls was almost blinding, and he stopped breathing for several seconds as his orgasm tore through him, exploding through every nerve ending and leaving him limp and exhausted in Remus' lap.

Remus slowly eased his fingers out of Sirius' arse, ran his hands up and down Sirius' spine.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't go out tomorrow."

"Yeah."

FIN.

Fluid 960 Grid System, created by Stephen Bau, based on the 960 Grid System by Nathan Smith. Released under the GPL/ MIT Licenses.