FIC POST: Sex and Sandwiches
Jan. 30th, 2006 08:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
momebieTitle: Sex and Sandwiches
Rating: R-ish
Author's Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shaggydogstail over at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
joint_gifts. Kocked over by my favorite internet stalkee, brak4werewolves, who is also the center of creation for Harry’s dialogue, because I don’t know shite about two year olds. :p
Warnings: Mentionings of male bits really close to other male bits…the lack of which would probably be more frightening to anyone here.
Sirius gave one last pat to the side of the snowman’s face and stepped back to admire their work. It was brilliant, if he said so himself. Which he would have, had there been anyone near enough who could grasp the concept of brilliant. At two, Harry could understand a great many things, but not all of the colloquialisms had sunk in. He did however understand that a proper snowman needed snow boots. Sirius couldn’t bear to tell Harry that the snowmen they put so much care into melted; he had already lost most of what a young boy should have. Maybe that was why Harry believed the story so readily. Or maybe it was merely because he was two. Harry was the first two year old Sirius had known, so he still wasn’t quite sure how to speak to him.
They had done well in the year since their first Christmas together. Even without their parents and lover respectively. Sirius eventually figured out the sorts of things a baby needed, and they moved into a small muggle flat in London. They didn’t live quite the sequestered life that Dumbledore wanted them to, but he wasn’t flashing it about that he had Harry either. So far, things had been fine. The last thing Sirius wanted was for Harry to have a life like he’d had, locked away in Grimmauld Place, not being able to turn eleven fast enough. He tried to give Harry free range, within reason. Not that he really knew what it was that reason was within.
Sirius sat down and watched Harry carving the toes of the boots out of the clumps of snow he had placed in front of the snowman. He had taken his gloves off to be able to better shape the toes and his hands were red. Sirius remembered days in his youth when his hands would go numb, but the job, the plan, the design was always more important than any small thing like possible loss of digits. Once Harry had finished he came running unsteadily to where Sirius was huddled and wrapped his arms around his godfather’s neck, sending them both tumbling backwards into the snow.
Sirius began to tickle Harry in retaliation and had just rolled him over onto his back when Harry flung his head to the side and gasped for air. “Siwius,” he said, “who’s that?”
Sirius looked up in the direction of Harry’s gaze and his breath caught in his throat. “That’s not a man Harry, that’s a ghost.”
“Really?” breathed Harry quietly. Sirius barely heard him over the blood pulsing through the veins in his temple. For a moment he thought his head might explode. Remus stood roughly 100 metres away from them, leaning against a leafless tree and breathing small puffs of hot air quietly into the space around him. He was very pale, and very thin, and if he’d been keeping the same eating habits they developed during the war, then he may very well have been a ghost.
Sirius looked down and smiled at Harry, who was still struggling to steal sideways glimpses at his ghost. Sirius had told Harry about the ghosts at school, but he’d never seen one that Sirius knew of, which would explain the excitement. He blew a raspberry into one of Harry’s already red cheeks. “Harry, do the snowman’s boots have proper laces?”
Harry’s attention snapped back to the snowman and his head cocked to the right, dragging a small mound of ice with it. “No,” he said frowning.
Sirius widened his eyes and leaned back onto his heels so Harry could sit up. “No? How is he going to take them off to sleep at night?”
“I do it!” Harry jumped up and skipped his way back to the snowman. Once Harry was occupied digging trenches into the boots, Sirius stood up and shook the snow out of his hair throwing his head back and forth like the great, shaggy dog. Both he and his animagus form could have stood a haircut, but with no one to impress but Harry, it hadn’t been at the top of his to do list. Now, as he walked towards Remus and ran his hands through the wet mane, he wished he’d taken better care of himself. He worked very hard at not breaking into a run.
“Where the bloody hell have you been?” he growled as he approached Remus. The suspected spy, best mate, and lover just bowed his head. “All this bloody, goddamned time and not one note to say, no, Sirius, I’m not dead, you can stop bloody dreaming about my bloody body in the bloody gutter.”
Remus’ lips twitched. “I’m sorry,” he said to the snow at his feet.
“You’re right you’re goddamned bloody sorry!” Sirius tried not to smile, but his adrenaline rushed and his voice pitched. He knew that Remus knew that now, here in front of him, Sirius couldn’t possibly be anything but relieved and ecstatic. “You’re so bloody sorry you’re going to bottom for the rest of your mangy, werewolf life.” Sirius closed the space between them and placed his hands on Remus’ waist. Remus fell against him and wrapped his arms as tightly around Sirius as he could. Neither of them heard the small crunches approaching them.
“Siwius,” said Harry, grabbing onto the back of Sirius’ jacket to steady himself in the uneven snow. “Siwius, why’s that ghost crying?”
Remus laughed first, sniffling breaths into his frozen nose, his body shaking against Sirius’. Sirius laughed then too, and squeezed Remus one last time before turning to pick up Harry.
“It’s not a ghost after all, pup.” He kissed Harry’s nose. “It’s an old friend of mine. Say, isn’t it about time for lunch? I know it’s almost someone’s naptime.”
“M’not sleepy,” Harry giggled and arched his back so Sirius would put him down. But once on his own he yawned and lost his balance, sitting heavily into the snow. “Wanna show ghost the snowman!”
Sirius bent down and hugged Harry close to him. “Sure thing.” Remus followed after them as they ambled toward the sculpture, Harry’s hand in Sirius’ as he dragged his godfather through the snow, wondering what could possibly happen now.
Now, it turned out, there would be an attempt at sandwiches. Sirius heated up the little muggle skillet and cut cheese for the bread while Remus let Harry ask him questions about being a ghost, or not being one, and about knowing Sirius. They weren’t very in depth questions, but Sirius could see that some of them made Remus’ face burn. By the time the sandwiches were ready Harry was leaning against the railing in the back of his chair, his head drooping to the side, eyes closed.
“I guess it was nap time after all,” Sirius whispered, and picked Harry up and carried him to his room. Remus set himself to clearing up, feeling uneasy alone in the space where Sirius and Harry had spent the last year without him. It was possible that they didn’t need him at all, and that his return may have hurt them. He should probably just leave. Remus went to the small living room and pulled his coat down off the hanger.
“If you leave this flat, Remus Lupin, don’t you even deign to come back.” Remus turned and Sirius wrapped himself around him. The two of them fell against the door. Sirius kissed Remus on the lips so hard Remus thought his head was going to break through the wood it was pressed against. He pushed forward, and Sirius pushed back with even more force. Remus dropped his coat.
“Sirius,” Remus gasped as Sirius struggled to undo the buttons at his shirt sleeves. “Sirius, we can’t do this in the living room, you have a child.”
Sirius stopped for a moment, his head resting against Remus’ shoulder. “Oh,” he said, and started a retreat to his bedroom. Using the sleeve cuff he had been working on as a lead, he dragged Remus there behind him. Once the door had been shut and locked he turned and pushed Remus onto the bed. “We have forty-five minutes.” He kicked off his boots and began tugging at the waist of his shirt, which stubbornly refused to come out of his trousers.
Remus started to undress himself calmly, but gave up as more and more of Sirius’ skin was revealed. The stomach he hadn’t seen in more than a year, still flat. The scar Sirius had received from him in werewolf form, slightly raised and light purple. The left thigh that- He tore the socks off his feet and laid down, just as Sirius came flying into bed next to him.
It was an entanglement of naked limbs and elbows and digits, and as Sirius felt the sting of Remus' toenail scratching his calf he thought that this was the most glorious place on the face of the planet. “Trim your toenails,” he murmured into Remus’ belly button, air from the laughter blowing the small hairs below his navel.
“When you cut you’re hair, you mutt,” was Remus’ reply as he watched Sirius’ hair drag itself down his sides and cover its owners face. “Don’t you want to know where I’ve been?”
Sirius crawled back up and straddled Remus, his face centimetres from his lover’s, his hair curtaining them both. “Yes,” he said, after a time in which he had stared hard into Remus’ face and then licked his nose. “But right now I just want to be inside of you; I want you to be inside of me. I want to- to melt like ingredients in a cauldron and come up with something new and unusual.”
Remus grinned. Sirius, for all his creativity, had never been good with words, which he complained were too unwieldy and furtive. “Or something explosive,” Remus whispered, as Sirius dipped down and began to lick the area from Remus’ collar bone to his jaw.
“Explosive would be nice,” Sirius lowered his body and smothered Remus. “But who would pick up the pieces?” Remus couldn’t even begin to think about pieces when Sirius’ bits were pressed to his thigh. His stomach tumbled and he wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and pulled him even closer, if that was possible.
Remus wrapped his legs around Sirius’ waist, and Sirius began to move against Remus in a motion that didn’t quite hold a rhythm, but that aroused him anyway. Sirius leaned back and Remus lifted his legs into the air so that Sirius could catch them. He held on to Remus’ calves as he gently worked his way into Remus’ opening. He went slowly. The both of them were out of practice. Remus bit his lip as the pain sharpened, but then it became drowned out by the feeling of Sirius inside of him.
Sirius smiled. He leaned forward to kiss Remus, but Remus groaned in a way that didn’t belie pleasure. “Should have done my calisthenics first,” he said, smiling.
“No time,” Sirius turned his face and huffed into Remus’ knee. “Maybe before go two.”
“Go two?” asked Remus.
Sirius blushed, which might have been from the presumption and might have been from the orgasm building itself at the base of his penis. “Er, if you’ll have me?”
“You prat,” said Remus. His voice broke at the end as Sirius started to stroke his cock in time to the thrusts, which still weren’t coming in any orderly fashion. Ah well, there would be time to relearn that. There was a moment where everything stopped moving at all, and Remus came over both of their stomachs and Sirius came inside of him. They were both sweaty and sticky and panting, and neither of them could bear to leave the bed to clean up.
Sirius pushed himself as far into Remus’ side as he could and laid his head on Remus’ shoulder. He closed his eyes and rewrote the last year of his life to have included this every night.
“You know you can’t leave now, right?” He kissed at Remus’ neck.
Remus laughed softly and brushed the hair from Sirius’ wet forehead. “Why? Is there a sticking charm in the bed? Have I been petrified?”
“Yes,” said Sirius decisively. “You have been. You’re under a spell, and if you leave the spell will be broken and you’ll never find you’re way back here again.”
“Ah, but would I want to come back? All that awaits me here is burned sandwiches and picking up after a little boy. Two little boys.” He kissed Sirius’ forehead.
“I didn’t burn them,” said Sirius, wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist to hold him down. He still couldn’t believe he was there, and it would take another war for Sirius to let him leave. “They came out just the way your mum made them, anyway.” He licked at Remus’ armpit. “Besides, if you do pick up after those two boys, they’ll love you forever. Do love you, now. Think of it, sandwiches and love. What more does a man need?”
“Shagging. Lots and lots of sex. Topping from time to time. And warm water left in the shower.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Remus Lupin.” He squeezed Remus again before he sat up to reach for his wand and clean them. He turned and worked the cleaning charm on Remus first. “But since it’s the Christmas hols, I’ll give in. Now, let’s go properly introduce the pup to his new dad, shall we?” He waved the wand over himself and watched as Remus pulled his trousers back on.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit soon for all of that, Sirius? I know you were never good with keeping presents a secret, but this is going to be huge to Harry.”
“Nonsense,” said Sirius, as he threw on a tee shirt and checked himself for any left over fluids. “It’ll be the best Christmas present the boy’s ever received.”
Remus grinned as Sirius left the room. “The best one I ever received too,” he said to the empty bed, and then followed after Sirius, into the warm light of the hallway.
Finis.
RIP The Reefs. Shall have to go to the surf shop tomorrow and get more. [/cry]
Rating: R-ish
Author's Notes: Written for
shaggydogstail over at joint_gifts. Kocked over by my favorite internet stalkee, brak4werewolves, who is also the center of creation for Harry’s dialogue, because I don’t know shite about two year olds. :pWarnings: Mentionings of male bits really close to other male bits…the lack of which would probably be more frightening to anyone here.
Sirius gave one last pat to the side of the snowman’s face and stepped back to admire their work. It was brilliant, if he said so himself. Which he would have, had there been anyone near enough who could grasp the concept of brilliant. At two, Harry could understand a great many things, but not all of the colloquialisms had sunk in. He did however understand that a proper snowman needed snow boots. Sirius couldn’t bear to tell Harry that the snowmen they put so much care into melted; he had already lost most of what a young boy should have. Maybe that was why Harry believed the story so readily. Or maybe it was merely because he was two. Harry was the first two year old Sirius had known, so he still wasn’t quite sure how to speak to him.
They had done well in the year since their first Christmas together. Even without their parents and lover respectively. Sirius eventually figured out the sorts of things a baby needed, and they moved into a small muggle flat in London. They didn’t live quite the sequestered life that Dumbledore wanted them to, but he wasn’t flashing it about that he had Harry either. So far, things had been fine. The last thing Sirius wanted was for Harry to have a life like he’d had, locked away in Grimmauld Place, not being able to turn eleven fast enough. He tried to give Harry free range, within reason. Not that he really knew what it was that reason was within.
Sirius sat down and watched Harry carving the toes of the boots out of the clumps of snow he had placed in front of the snowman. He had taken his gloves off to be able to better shape the toes and his hands were red. Sirius remembered days in his youth when his hands would go numb, but the job, the plan, the design was always more important than any small thing like possible loss of digits. Once Harry had finished he came running unsteadily to where Sirius was huddled and wrapped his arms around his godfather’s neck, sending them both tumbling backwards into the snow.
Sirius began to tickle Harry in retaliation and had just rolled him over onto his back when Harry flung his head to the side and gasped for air. “Siwius,” he said, “who’s that?”
Sirius looked up in the direction of Harry’s gaze and his breath caught in his throat. “That’s not a man Harry, that’s a ghost.”
“Really?” breathed Harry quietly. Sirius barely heard him over the blood pulsing through the veins in his temple. For a moment he thought his head might explode. Remus stood roughly 100 metres away from them, leaning against a leafless tree and breathing small puffs of hot air quietly into the space around him. He was very pale, and very thin, and if he’d been keeping the same eating habits they developed during the war, then he may very well have been a ghost.
Sirius looked down and smiled at Harry, who was still struggling to steal sideways glimpses at his ghost. Sirius had told Harry about the ghosts at school, but he’d never seen one that Sirius knew of, which would explain the excitement. He blew a raspberry into one of Harry’s already red cheeks. “Harry, do the snowman’s boots have proper laces?”
Harry’s attention snapped back to the snowman and his head cocked to the right, dragging a small mound of ice with it. “No,” he said frowning.
Sirius widened his eyes and leaned back onto his heels so Harry could sit up. “No? How is he going to take them off to sleep at night?”
“I do it!” Harry jumped up and skipped his way back to the snowman. Once Harry was occupied digging trenches into the boots, Sirius stood up and shook the snow out of his hair throwing his head back and forth like the great, shaggy dog. Both he and his animagus form could have stood a haircut, but with no one to impress but Harry, it hadn’t been at the top of his to do list. Now, as he walked towards Remus and ran his hands through the wet mane, he wished he’d taken better care of himself. He worked very hard at not breaking into a run.
“Where the bloody hell have you been?” he growled as he approached Remus. The suspected spy, best mate, and lover just bowed his head. “All this bloody, goddamned time and not one note to say, no, Sirius, I’m not dead, you can stop bloody dreaming about my bloody body in the bloody gutter.”
Remus’ lips twitched. “I’m sorry,” he said to the snow at his feet.
“You’re right you’re goddamned bloody sorry!” Sirius tried not to smile, but his adrenaline rushed and his voice pitched. He knew that Remus knew that now, here in front of him, Sirius couldn’t possibly be anything but relieved and ecstatic. “You’re so bloody sorry you’re going to bottom for the rest of your mangy, werewolf life.” Sirius closed the space between them and placed his hands on Remus’ waist. Remus fell against him and wrapped his arms as tightly around Sirius as he could. Neither of them heard the small crunches approaching them.
“Siwius,” said Harry, grabbing onto the back of Sirius’ jacket to steady himself in the uneven snow. “Siwius, why’s that ghost crying?”
Remus laughed first, sniffling breaths into his frozen nose, his body shaking against Sirius’. Sirius laughed then too, and squeezed Remus one last time before turning to pick up Harry.
“It’s not a ghost after all, pup.” He kissed Harry’s nose. “It’s an old friend of mine. Say, isn’t it about time for lunch? I know it’s almost someone’s naptime.”
“M’not sleepy,” Harry giggled and arched his back so Sirius would put him down. But once on his own he yawned and lost his balance, sitting heavily into the snow. “Wanna show ghost the snowman!”
Sirius bent down and hugged Harry close to him. “Sure thing.” Remus followed after them as they ambled toward the sculpture, Harry’s hand in Sirius’ as he dragged his godfather through the snow, wondering what could possibly happen now.
Now, it turned out, there would be an attempt at sandwiches. Sirius heated up the little muggle skillet and cut cheese for the bread while Remus let Harry ask him questions about being a ghost, or not being one, and about knowing Sirius. They weren’t very in depth questions, but Sirius could see that some of them made Remus’ face burn. By the time the sandwiches were ready Harry was leaning against the railing in the back of his chair, his head drooping to the side, eyes closed.
“I guess it was nap time after all,” Sirius whispered, and picked Harry up and carried him to his room. Remus set himself to clearing up, feeling uneasy alone in the space where Sirius and Harry had spent the last year without him. It was possible that they didn’t need him at all, and that his return may have hurt them. He should probably just leave. Remus went to the small living room and pulled his coat down off the hanger.
“If you leave this flat, Remus Lupin, don’t you even deign to come back.” Remus turned and Sirius wrapped himself around him. The two of them fell against the door. Sirius kissed Remus on the lips so hard Remus thought his head was going to break through the wood it was pressed against. He pushed forward, and Sirius pushed back with even more force. Remus dropped his coat.
“Sirius,” Remus gasped as Sirius struggled to undo the buttons at his shirt sleeves. “Sirius, we can’t do this in the living room, you have a child.”
Sirius stopped for a moment, his head resting against Remus’ shoulder. “Oh,” he said, and started a retreat to his bedroom. Using the sleeve cuff he had been working on as a lead, he dragged Remus there behind him. Once the door had been shut and locked he turned and pushed Remus onto the bed. “We have forty-five minutes.” He kicked off his boots and began tugging at the waist of his shirt, which stubbornly refused to come out of his trousers.
Remus started to undress himself calmly, but gave up as more and more of Sirius’ skin was revealed. The stomach he hadn’t seen in more than a year, still flat. The scar Sirius had received from him in werewolf form, slightly raised and light purple. The left thigh that- He tore the socks off his feet and laid down, just as Sirius came flying into bed next to him.
It was an entanglement of naked limbs and elbows and digits, and as Sirius felt the sting of Remus' toenail scratching his calf he thought that this was the most glorious place on the face of the planet. “Trim your toenails,” he murmured into Remus’ belly button, air from the laughter blowing the small hairs below his navel.
“When you cut you’re hair, you mutt,” was Remus’ reply as he watched Sirius’ hair drag itself down his sides and cover its owners face. “Don’t you want to know where I’ve been?”
Sirius crawled back up and straddled Remus, his face centimetres from his lover’s, his hair curtaining them both. “Yes,” he said, after a time in which he had stared hard into Remus’ face and then licked his nose. “But right now I just want to be inside of you; I want you to be inside of me. I want to- to melt like ingredients in a cauldron and come up with something new and unusual.”
Remus grinned. Sirius, for all his creativity, had never been good with words, which he complained were too unwieldy and furtive. “Or something explosive,” Remus whispered, as Sirius dipped down and began to lick the area from Remus’ collar bone to his jaw.
“Explosive would be nice,” Sirius lowered his body and smothered Remus. “But who would pick up the pieces?” Remus couldn’t even begin to think about pieces when Sirius’ bits were pressed to his thigh. His stomach tumbled and he wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and pulled him even closer, if that was possible.
Remus wrapped his legs around Sirius’ waist, and Sirius began to move against Remus in a motion that didn’t quite hold a rhythm, but that aroused him anyway. Sirius leaned back and Remus lifted his legs into the air so that Sirius could catch them. He held on to Remus’ calves as he gently worked his way into Remus’ opening. He went slowly. The both of them were out of practice. Remus bit his lip as the pain sharpened, but then it became drowned out by the feeling of Sirius inside of him.
Sirius smiled. He leaned forward to kiss Remus, but Remus groaned in a way that didn’t belie pleasure. “Should have done my calisthenics first,” he said, smiling.
“No time,” Sirius turned his face and huffed into Remus’ knee. “Maybe before go two.”
“Go two?” asked Remus.
Sirius blushed, which might have been from the presumption and might have been from the orgasm building itself at the base of his penis. “Er, if you’ll have me?”
“You prat,” said Remus. His voice broke at the end as Sirius started to stroke his cock in time to the thrusts, which still weren’t coming in any orderly fashion. Ah well, there would be time to relearn that. There was a moment where everything stopped moving at all, and Remus came over both of their stomachs and Sirius came inside of him. They were both sweaty and sticky and panting, and neither of them could bear to leave the bed to clean up.
Sirius pushed himself as far into Remus’ side as he could and laid his head on Remus’ shoulder. He closed his eyes and rewrote the last year of his life to have included this every night.
“You know you can’t leave now, right?” He kissed at Remus’ neck.
Remus laughed softly and brushed the hair from Sirius’ wet forehead. “Why? Is there a sticking charm in the bed? Have I been petrified?”
“Yes,” said Sirius decisively. “You have been. You’re under a spell, and if you leave the spell will be broken and you’ll never find you’re way back here again.”
“Ah, but would I want to come back? All that awaits me here is burned sandwiches and picking up after a little boy. Two little boys.” He kissed Sirius’ forehead.
“I didn’t burn them,” said Sirius, wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist to hold him down. He still couldn’t believe he was there, and it would take another war for Sirius to let him leave. “They came out just the way your mum made them, anyway.” He licked at Remus’ armpit. “Besides, if you do pick up after those two boys, they’ll love you forever. Do love you, now. Think of it, sandwiches and love. What more does a man need?”
“Shagging. Lots and lots of sex. Topping from time to time. And warm water left in the shower.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Remus Lupin.” He squeezed Remus again before he sat up to reach for his wand and clean them. He turned and worked the cleaning charm on Remus first. “But since it’s the Christmas hols, I’ll give in. Now, let’s go properly introduce the pup to his new dad, shall we?” He waved the wand over himself and watched as Remus pulled his trousers back on.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit soon for all of that, Sirius? I know you were never good with keeping presents a secret, but this is going to be huge to Harry.”
“Nonsense,” said Sirius, as he threw on a tee shirt and checked himself for any left over fluids. “It’ll be the best Christmas present the boy’s ever received.”
Remus grinned as Sirius left the room. “The best one I ever received too,” he said to the empty bed, and then followed after Sirius, into the warm light of the hallway.
Finis.
RIP The Reefs. Shall have to go to the surf shop tomorrow and get more. [/cry]
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Date: 2006-01-31 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 02:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 03:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 04:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 03:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-31 04:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 02:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-12 11:43 am (UTC)The past tense of the verb 'to drag' is 'dragged' not 'drug'. 'Drug(s) are an entirely different matter. :)
Otherwise this was just lovely.
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Date: 2006-02-12 05:00 pm (UTC)But thank you for reading too. :)
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Date: 2006-02-15 08:52 pm (UTC)