Chapter Text
It’s two days ’til the full, and the unrelenting sound of ABBA might drive Remus Lupin to murder.
He doesn’t want to be at this party. He hardly feels like celebrating with a hungry beast pacing beneath his skin, waiting to break him apart and remake him in its image, but Remus’s friends won a quidditch match, so he grits his teeth as Rock Me blares from the charmed record player.
Worse than the music is the flirting and touching that assaults him on all sides. He’s not a prude—he just hates the way the heavy scent of adolescent hormones pulls at his groin and fills him with a deep, aching want that feels undeniably wolfish.
The waxing moon strengthens Remus’s senses, but most others’ are dulled with fire whiskey or mead—nearly everyone’s drinking but him. Remus never drinks this close to the full, scared of what he could do. His thoughts are too fractured and his body’s too strong. He’s better off—hell, everyone’s better off—if he refrains. Instead, he smokes a cigarette reclined in the windowsill, observing his friends throughout the common room and trying to find amusement in the way the alcohol loosens their inhibitions.
As is custom, the team still wears red flying robes, making them easy to spot amongst the crowd. Prongs is already blitzed, dancing (jumping) on the table and singing (screaming) along to the record at a scowling Lily Evans. She puts on a good act around James, and Remus knows he’s the only one able to smell that the sweet emotions bubbling in her chest don’t match the sour look on her face.
Marlene’s on the couch next to that Slytherin girl, Dorcas. To everyone else they must look like good friends, but Remus can hear the lovers’ words they whisper and smell the desire pouring off them. It’s the same thick scent he clocked back in 5th year when the two girls were first paired together in potions class, though he didn’t recognize what it was back then.
Remus’s eyes shift to another red splotch in the crowd, the one he's been willing himself to ignore for a couple hours now: Sirius.
As ever, Sirius is the center of it all, surrounded by a crowd of girls who Remus suspects came to the party with the sole purpose of bedding the famous Sirius Black after his star performance in the match today. When one of the girls places a hand on his arm, Remus stifles the snarl in his throat and the greedy, wanting voice in his head that says mine, mine, mine.
Remus knows he’d played well. More than well, actually. Sirius hadn’t missed a single bludger as he zoomed around protecting the team, traveling seemingly impossible distances more than once to save James’s neck. And when Sirius took down Ravenclaw’s seeker a mere foot away from the snitch, and the crowd chanted Black, Black, Black, a shock wave of animal lust shot through Remus’s body and he found himself hard in his pants, unable to tear his eyes from the grin that bloomed across Sirius’s flushed face, the bead of sweat running down his throat, his chest heaving with exertion. He wanted to make Sirius sweat, to make him pant like the dog he was, to get him on his knees and…
It’s just the wolf, Remus reminds himself, leaning his head back against the cool stone of the of window frame. Same as last month, when his hair was wet from the shower, or the month before that when he’d been eating those fucking cherries and the juice stained his lips, or that time Prongs dared him to let the girls dress him up and he strutted back in that lacy tank top and torn mini-skirt… Remus has conveniently forgotten that it was a new moon then.
He’s gotten used to blaming things on the wolf. The wolf is why Remus stopped wrestling with Sirius, why he won’t skip class to get high with him in the astronomy tower, why he’s been avoiding being alone with Sirius at all, really. Well the wolf, and the fact that for the past year or so, Sirius always seems to be overcome by a sour, nervous smell when they’re together.
Remus reasons it must be instinct: Sirius is his prey, and some deep part of his animal brain senses danger. He knows what you want with him, the voice inside growls. He knows you think of him before you come, knows exactly how much time you’ve spent imagining him utterly wrecked and splattered head to toe with your…
Remus digs nails into his palm to slow his racing thoughts. Horny little bastard, that wolf, he thinks. I should find Mary.
Being with Mary helps. She likes it just like the wolf does—had laughed even, when he’d asked her if it was too rough the first time they’d done it. And Mary never wants more, not like the others Remus has been with. She never wants to cuddle and snog, never pesters him to take her out on dates, and never uses those annoying pet names that make him want to rip his hair out. Mary and Remus are truly friends—friends who just so happen to shag each other’s brains out when one of them needs it. And it's good that it worked out this way with her, of all people, because when Remus focuses on her shiny black curls from behind, he can almost pretend that she's…
No, no, no. Not Sirius. Mary.
He spots her leaning seductively against the wall, chatting up some poor Hufflepuff quidditch player. Chatting may be a generous word, Remus thinks. Even across the party, his sharp ears can make out more ‘um’s and ‘er’s coming from the boy than actual words. Remus vanishes his cigarette butt and walks towards the pair. When he reaches them, he plants an assertive palm on the wall beside Mary’s head, inclining his body toward her.
“Hiya, MacDonald.”
Her gaze drags away from the other boy with a smug slowness. When their eyes lock, Mary smirks. Remus does too. They both know what happens next.
The other boy isn’t bad looking, but no one can compete with the wolf this close to the moon. Remus has always known he smells a bit different as the full nears, but now they’re older, he’s come to learn this smell has a certain effect on people. An effect that's hard to match, except by the easy charm and ridiculous good looks of one Sirius Black, he reminds himself, failing to forget the gaggle of girls fawning over his friend at this very moment.
“W-well alright Mary. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”
“Yeah, sure Marcus. See you in class,” Mary says, not bothering to look back at him. The boy—Marcus, he supposes—lingers for another moment before walking into the crowd, disappearing from Remus’s peripheral vision and thoughts.
“Fancy a break upstairs, Mary?”
"Bored already, are you?”
"Not bored, just a little under-stimulated.” Remus winks and Mary lets out a low chuckle.
“Hmm. Would’ve thought you’d want to celebrate with Black tonight. You know he’d ditch the fan club if you wanted to talk to him, right?”
At the mention of Sirius, Remus’s eyes dart to the center of the room where the other boy is holding court. Irritation flares deep in his chest as Sirius throws his head back in laughter—not real laughter, but the fake, controlled laughter he uses when putting on a show. Arrogant fucking prat.
“And why the hell would I want to talk with that prick, eh? The fuck’s so great about hitting a bloody ball with a bloody bat? Fucking tosser thinks he’s a celebrity or something.” Remus is seething, but Mary just laughs.
“Your time of the month then, is it?”
* * *
Remus hadn’t meant for Mary to find out. He thought he’d been careful, inventing excuses for scars and missed classes. It was second nature at this point—he'd never told anyone about the wolf. He'd felt guilty lying to Mary, but even the Marauders had figured it out without him.
But like the Marauders, Mary is exceptionally clever, and Remus was reminded of the danger in befriending exceptionally clever people when she confronted him several months earlier.
The two of them had been laid out on his bed, still naked and sweating while Remus rolled a post-shag spliff to ease the waxing-moon jitters that were quickly creeping back into his body.
“So it’s a full moon tomorrow.”
Remus paused, but didn’t look up. She’s taking astrology, he reasoned. She’s just making conversation.
“Oh, is it?” he asked casually, willing his fingers to resume their task.
“Yeah. Yeah it is.”
“Hm,” he responded disinterestedly, willing Mary to change the subject as he dipped his head to lick the edge of the rolling paper.
“And you asked me up here today.”
“Yeah. And?”
“Just that… I’ve noticed that every time it’s your idea, it’s always this time of month, isn’t it?”
Remus tried to retain an air of calm as internal sirens began blaring. “What about… What about a couple weeks ago?”
“Well, it was my idea that time, and it’s always different then.”
“Oh, um. I didn’t realize. Different how?”
“Well you’re a bit more… tamed, you know?”
Remus flushed, failing to think of a response.
“I mean remember last month? You practically dragged me out of class the morning before the full and couldn’t even wait to get to the dorm—you shagged me in a broom cupboard at ten in the morning for Godric’s sake!”
Remus remembered that morning. Sirius had stretched his arms over his head and it lifted the hem of his shirt up, up, up, ’til Remus saw pale skin and the trail of dark hair leading down to his… Well Remus couldn’t be expected to stay in class after that.
“Shit. I’m sorry Mary—I didn’t mean to—”
“Shut up Lupin, you know I loved it. All I’m saying is that I’ve noticed a pattern.”
“Maybe it’s true what they say about the full moon—makes us crazy, right?” Remus tried to chuckle, but it sounded pained, even to him.
“Or… maybe you’re a werewolf.”
Remus froze, and by the time he regained control, he knew too much time had passed to laugh off what she’d said.
“Mary—”
“I’m not going to tell anyone, Rem.”
Another pause. He dropped his gaze to the duvet as his gut flooded with shame. “I’m really sorry Mary.”
And he really was. How could he have been so fucking selfish? Of course Mary deserved to know she was getting off with a fucking monster. Of course he should have—
“Sorry for what, that you haven’t lit the spliff? Give it here.”
So he did, and that was that.
* * *
The track changes, but it's still ABBA—I've Been Waiting for You. The song's too slow for a party, but Prongs is more than happy to continue his serenade with a ballad. Remus shakes his head as if it could clear the swirling mess of noise and rage and lust clouding his thoughts. He’s embarrassed by the outburst he just had at the mention of Sirius, the likes of which he knows Mary is familiar with.
“I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I just meant I’d rather be upstairs with you than stroking that git’s oversized ego.”
Mary looks at him for just a moment too long, her eyes scanning his. “Sure you would, Rem.” She takes a quick breath and straightens her posture. “You done with your hissy fit, then? Sure you don’t wanna scream about how Black thinks the sun shines out of his red-robed ass or something?”
Again, Remus is helpless to stop his eyes from traveling to Sirius, but this time, the other boy is already looking back. He’s biting his lip, looking sad as a kicked dog—a familiar expression by now. Remus snaps his gaze back to Mary.
“Let’s keep Black’s arse out of it.”
“If you insist,” she says cheekily.
They make their way up the steps to the boys’ dormitories, but Remus can still see the pained look on Sirius’s face, still smell the sharp tang of jealousy that wafts from Sirius whenever he sees Remus and Mary together.
And that's the kicker, isn’t it? It's not bad enough that the wolf turns him into a sex-crazed monster filled with an unquenchable desire for Sirius fucking Black of all people. No, the universe must really have something against Remus Lupin, because Sirius, who could have his pick of girls, seems only to want Mary. The fucking nerve he has to bite his fucking lip the way he does, driving Remus mad, and then want Mary—the one person who makes this situation even somewhat tolerable for Remus.
When they reach his room, Remus is still stewing about the absolute gall of Sirius Black. When Mary pushes him backward onto his bed and crawls on top of him, his frustration sharpens, mixing now with his growing arousal. And when the door bursts open, revealing none other than Sirius himself, it reaches a peak, and Remus finds himself shouting without meaning to.
“Bloody hell Sirius, I’ve told you not to fuck with the door when it’s charmed shut!”
Christ he’s persistent, not that he has any right to be. Sirius should be grateful Remus has Mary—who knows what he’d do to him otherwise. How dare Sirius strut in here looking like sin with his chin held high, when Remus is only trying to do the one thing that makes the weight of Sirius’s very existence bearable.
But Sirius doesn’t understand any of that. He saunters right in without sparing them a glance, making his way to the trunk at the foot of Remus’s bed.
“Just grabbing my fags,” he says casually.
“You mean my fags,” Remus snaps back.
Sirius rolls his eyes. “Well Moony, you may have forgotten, but you once said you’d supply me for life so long as I didn’t tell Prongs you smoked. That makes them my fags too.”
“Fucking hell, James caught me ages ago!”
“Well,” Sirius sniffs, “I didn’t tell him.”
“Fucking brat,” Remus mutters, not bothering to cover the resentment simmering just below his skin. Mary rolls off his lap.
“Don’t be an asshole Moony. You’re just drunk,” Sirius scoffs dismissively.
“I haven’t had a drop you twat.”
“Shit. I forgot—” Sirius cuts himself off, eyes widening in remorse as he realizes what he almost revealed. It would have been funny, if Remus wasn’t so pissed off.
“She knows, Pads.”
“What?!” he asks incredulously.
“She knows. About my furry little problem. It’s fine.”
“You… You told her? You told her? What the fuck, Moony!”
Remus scowls. It’s just like Sirius to think he can dictate who Remus talks to about his own life.
“Come off it, Pads. She figured it out, same as you.”
“So you didn’t learn your lesson in first year then? Instead you go around acting like such a bloody idiot that some girl figures it out—”
“Shut up Black, Mary’s my friend.”
“Oh she’s your friend, is she?”
“I’ll be going back to the party now,” Mary announces as she bounds off Remus’s bed, seemingly unfazed by the argument.
“Mary don’t—”
“You and Sirius need to talk, Rem.” She's looking right at him. Remus wonders, and not for the first time, if Mary has figured out another one of his secrets. “And besides,” she continues, “Marcus really looked so wretched when you scared him off. I think he deserves some pity.”
Mary makes her exit and Remus jumps to his feet when the door shuts behind her. He towers over Sirius, who gazes up defiantly, squinting his stormy eyes and jutting out his perfectly angled jaw.
“You’re just going to let her shag some other bloke?”
Remus bites his tongue to stop himself from saying the first thing that comes to mind. I wouldn’t let go if it were you. I’d dig my teeth into your neck and keep you there forever. I’d never let you go.
“Mary can do what she likes,” he says instead.
“Clearly,” Sirius responds coldly.
He could leave it there, but Remus is tired of hiding this ache. Fuck Sirius Black and his stupid pouting lips. Fuck Sirius Black for thinking he knows what’s best for Mary. Fuck Sirius Black for only wanting her now that her and Remus are… whatever they are. Just fuck Sirius Black.
“You could have anyone in the world but you have to have her, huh Pads?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not a fucking idiot, Sirius.”
Sirius glares daggers, and the sick part of Remus is glad to have made him angry.
“I don’t want Mary,” he says venomously, emphasizing his point by shoving Remus’s chest with both hands.
“Don’t lie, Sirius.” Remus doesn’t bother to push back.
“I’m not lying.”
Sirius is poised for another shove, but Remus won’t be hit again. He snatches the other boy’s wrists and steps forward, forcing him against the wall. A shiver runs up Remus’s spine, and he’s not sure if its from the proximity, or from the way Sirius struggles fruitlessly beneath his grasp. Their faces are inches away, so close that Remus knows Sirius can hear him when he speaks, though his voice comes out as a husky growl.
“I smell your jealousy every time I’m with her, and I smell your shame now. You can lie to everyone else, but you can’t lie to a fucking wolf.”
The scent of shame really is overwhelming, but it’s mixed with something else now.
“I don’t. Want. Mary.” Sirius says again, forcing each word through gritted teeth.
Another shudder passes through Remus’s body when he realizes what he smells behind the shame: the thick, sweet musk of desire. “What do you want then, Sirius?” he asks softly, not letting himself hope, not letting himself want.
There’s a long pause before Sirius responds. When he does, it’s little more than a whimper. “Why don’t you like me anymore?”
“What?!”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I–I haven’t…”
“You can’t lie to me either, Moons.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. It–it’s for your own good.”
Something breaks in Sirius’s eyes then, and his facade of control shatters to reveal the desperation below. “Please Moony, you can’t—you can’t do that. You don’t know what it does to me, when you treat me like this,” he cries.
“Tell me then,” Remus whispers. He’s eased his grip, but he can still feel the rapid flutter of Sirius’s pulse through the delicate skin of his wrists. Sirius looks down, hiding the wetness in his eyes.
“It makes me feel like a fucking dog, like a mangy stray who can’t stop following the bloke who used to feed him. I’m a dog begging for scraps Moony, begging you to pull me aside for a smoke after class or smile at me or just look at me…” Sirius swallows the sob that's been building in his throat. “…And when you don’t, it’s all I think about. And when you do, it’s never enough, and it’s still all I think about…”
Remus is a bit loopy, having moved through too many feelings in too short a time. He’d been so angry before—he’d wanted to shake Sirius, to scare him—but now he's overwhelmed by a fierce protectiveness, like he’d do anything to make sure Sirius is never sad again. He curses himself for making this lovely creature cry.
Sirius’s voice wavers with emotion when he continues. “I could bear it when we were friends, when I at least felt like I was something to you. But now—”
“We’re still friends, Sirius,” Remus interrupts softly, and fuck he needs that to be true, because the thought of losing Sirius has filled him with the dreadful urge to howl, and he knows that even this frustrating, horrible mess is better than not having Sirius at all.
Sirius chokes out a sob. “Fuck you Moony, you know what I mean. You’re driving me mad, Remus. Absolutely mad."
“Why?” Remus asks. He knows what he wants Sirius to say, but is terrified of hearing it all the same.
“Because I don’t want Mary…” Sirius finally looks up. “…I want you.”
Remus flashes white-hot, and for a moment his mind is empty save for the voice chanting mine, mine, mine. He’s a wolf dressed in the skin of a boy now, and the wolf wants to bite and grab and claim, but Remus fights it. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down.
“You don’t want me, Sirius. You don’t know what I’ll do to you.”
“Please, Moony…”
“I can’t. The wolf, it’s… I think I’ll hurt you.”
“I don’t care if you hurt me…” Sirius whispers. “…I want you to hurt me.”
Remus inhales sharply, his voice quivering as he responds, “You can’t say that, Pads.”
A dam breaks in Sirius’s throat and the desperate plea that had been contained behind it starts spilling out of his mouth. “Don’t say that Moony, please don’t say you don’t want to know how much I need you, because all I do is want and want and want—I want to belong to you, Moony, I want you to put me on a fucking leash and use me, and it makes me feel crazy and then I…”
The pace of Sirius’s speech has been relentless, but he pauses here, as if catching his breath. Remus doesn’t dare say a word.
“…And then I see you with Mary, and I get so fucking angry, and I’ve tried to stop Moony, I’ve tried so hard to be good for you but I can’t. I’m not good enough to stop, so please, please don’t tell me you don’t want to know. Please don’t tell me you can’t understand, because if you don’t feel it too then I don’t know what I’ll—”
Remus cuts him off with a hand over his mouth. Sirius’s eyes are wide and filled with tears that spill over when he blinks. He's a wild animal, fearsome and frightened at once. The feral desperation spilling out of him is familiar to Remus—it’s something he's felt before, something he calls the wolf and tries his best to ignore.
So maybe it's just the dog in Sirius talking. Maybe it’s their canine nature that fills them both with this uncontrollable hunger. Or maybe it’s just Remus, and this is just Sirius. Maybe it doesn’t matter, because Sirius wants him, and Remus burns.
“Sirius, you need to know that if we start this, I won't be able to stop. I'll never let you go.”
Remus searches for the outline of the animal that lives inside him. He’s never really understood where he ends and the wolf begins. It’s not as if he wants to believe the wolf controls him, but he can’t help but feel some sort of comfort in the idea that the wicked desires that plague him aren’t really his own. He shifts his hand from over Sirius’s mouth to rest on the side of his jaw.
“I don’t know if it’s the wolf, or if it’s just me but… I’m bad, Pads. I’m bad and I’m greedy and I’m fucking hungry and I will want everything from you and it’ll never be enough. So don’t do this if you aren’t sure, because if we do this… you’re mine.”
Sirius shakes his head, eyes still shiny with tears. “I’m already yours, Remus.”
At that, Remus can’t wait another moment before crashing their lips together.
Lycanthropic senses are a blessing and a curse. They give him the ability to see in the dark and smell a lie, but they’re also the reason Remus hasn’t had a moment of quiet since he was five years old. He’s always so painfully, tediously aware of everything around him, but when he kisses Sirius, the world goes blank. He can’t hear the party below, can’t smell the biscuits Peter keeps in his night stand or the aftershave James spilled in the sink. He’s filled to the brim with Sirius, and there isn’t space for anything else. They could be in the middle of London, or in Dumbledore’s office, or in outer fucking space—Remus wouldn’t be able to tell, because the world is finally quiet.
It aches to pull away, but he needs to tell him. “I’m yours too Pads. Only yours,” is all he can bear to say before reclaiming Sirius’s lips, but it’s enough. He just needs Sirius to know.
Sirius welcomes Remus’s tongue into his mouth and presses his hips forward, as much as is possible with one wrist still restrained against the wall. When Remus feels Sirius’s hardness rut against his thigh, he gasps into his mouth before moving his free hand to grasp black curls by the root, pulling himself back and away from Sirius.
“You’re an eager pup, aren’t you?”
“I need you Moony, please,” Sirius whines back.
“That’s not how this is going to work, pet.”
“Please… tell me what to do, Moony.”
Remus considers this for a moment, drinking in the sight of Sirius’s muffed hair and the wetness on his lips. Oh, the things he could say—he wants everything from Sirius.
He wants sweet things—to anoint his skin with soft kisses and whisper in his ear ’til he finds the words to describe his loveliness. But he also wants vicious, ugly things—to tie him up so tight that he can’t even twitch, to tame his vile mouth so all it can do is scream his name, to fuck him 'til he’s sobbing and broken. And though he can't shut off the voice that says it’s wrong and filthy and bad, he seems to remember Sirius saying something about a leash, and Remus thinks that maybe, somehow, Sirius wants these things just as desperately as he does.
“Get on your knees and keep your hands behind your back—you’re not to touch anything. You’ll stay perfectly still while I fuck your pretty little mouth, and once I decide you’ve had enough, I’ll stretch out your filthy hole ’til you’re ready to take me. Then, if you’ve been good, I’ll let you get off.”
If his nonchalant tone is betrayed by the tremble of his hands, Sirius doesn’t mention it. He drops to his knees as soon as Remus finishes speaking, and his unquestioning obedience sends a sharp pang of pleasure through Remus’s groin.
“O-Okay. I understand.” Sirius is looking up at him with something akin to reverence as Remus unzips his trousers.
Remus grins. “Good boy.” He hears Sirius’s heart beat faster from the praise, and his face is flushed and beaming when Remus pulls his aching cock from his pants.
Sirius gasps, but he’s a fast learner. He doesn’t try to fight Remus’s grip on his hair by craning forward, just opens his mouth, inviting Remus in to ravage.
With one hand still grasping firmly at black curls, Remus slips the other around himself and slaps his hard length against Sirius’s face. A bead of pre-cum releases onto his cheek. Sirius doesn’t flinch, just opens his mouth wider.
“Do you want it?”
Sirius nods, and Remus doesn’t waste another moment before stuffing himself inside of Sirius’s waiting mouth, wet and hot and all for him. Remus has to swallow a groan when Sirius closes his lips around him, swirling his tongue around the head. It feels good, too fucking good, and Remus pushes himself deeper until tip of his cock reaches Sirius’s throat. He’s choking around him, face going red, and Remus has the good sense to pull him off by the hair.
“Can you take it, love?” Concern softens his previously authoritarian tone, turning his voice into something warm and gentle that he barely recognizes.
Sirius nods eagerly, mouth still open wide, a string of saliva stretching between his lips.
“Say it.”
“I can take it. Please, please let me have it.”
Remus lets out the growl that’s been building in his throat. “Such a good boy. Open back up for me, darling.”
Sirius complies instantaneously and Remus starts thrusting at an unforgiving pace. He works Sirius to tears, thick streams running from his eyes and nose melting together. Then he sees Sirius’s hips move, forward and back like he’s chasing the friction between himself and his riding pants. Remus pulls out, leaving Sirius panting and confused.
“You’re being bad, Pup.”
Sirius is frantic, his eyes wide and remorseful. “No I, I—”
“Enough. I see you rubbing your filthy little cock in your trousers.”
“Moony, I—”
“What did I tell you?”
Sirius is unhinged, already breaking apart at the seams. He responds in a frenzy, “You—you said I can get off if I’m good! You said—” Remus pulls Sirius to his feet by the hair.
“Try again.”
Sirius looks down in submission. “You said I can get off when you let me.”
“Good.” Remus releases the hold on Sirius’s hair. “Now strip. I won’t have my pup being a dirty little sneak.”
Sirius follows his orders, throwing his boots, his red robes, his trousers and pants all aside without a glance, and once he’s laid bare, pale skin and lean muscle and twitching cock standing at attention just for him, Remus kicks himself for having kept him clothed for one second longer than was necessary.
“That’s better. Now back on your knees.”
He obeys, grasping his hands behind his back and opening his mouth without being asked. Remus places one hand around his neck and uses the other to stroke himself slow and steady.
Sirius looks coy, unsure even as he says, “I’m ready now, Moony. I’ll behave.”
Remus smirks. “I see that pet, but you’ve been bad. Now you have to watch, and if you stay nice and still for me, I’ll fuck you after.”
Sirius whines, but doesn’t speak another word, just stares up at Remus, eyes wide and wanting.
This is wrong, isn't it? He knows he ought to be ashamed, wanking in his best friend's face like this. But Remus isn't ashamed at all. He feels good—comfortable even—because it's Sirius, and everything is so, so right.
He feels his climax building and starts to speed his pace when Sirius, sounding slightly panicked, blurts out, “Wait Moony, don’t—I mean I want—”
Sirius cuts himself off, but Remus won’t punish the interruption. He knows Sirius is just afraid of the end, but the fact that Sirius thinks there’s any chance he’s not getting fucked tonight is so funny that Remus actually laughs, though he supposes Sirius has no way of knowing that once is never enough in the days before the full.
“I know what you want love. Don’t you trust me?”
“I trust you, Moony.”
“Good. Then open up.”
Sirius complies, and it’s only moments before Remus pours onto him with a snarl, releasing thick stripes of cum on his tear-streaked face, over his tongue, and across his chest. Remus knows instantly that’s its the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, that he ever will see.
“Oh fuck, you’re so lovely,” he says. Remus presses a thumb to Sirius’s cheek, wiping up a pearly drop before presenting it to Sirius’s eager lips. As Sirius sucks it clean, Remus murmurs, “That’s a good boy. You’re being such a good boy for me, Pads.”
Remus is as hard as he was before, but he can bear it now. Desire still courses through him in powerful waves, but the urgency he felt before has mellowed now that Sirius has been marked.
“Get on the bed, Pup… Crawl to the front.”
Remus greedily takes in the sight of Sirius’s ass, spread open and vulnerable, right there on his bed. Remus rips off his jumper, loosens his tie, and tears his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons. He considers the jumble of clothes in his hand for a moment before untangling his red tie from the mess.
“Did you mean what you said about the leash?”
“Yes,” Sirius says without hesitation.
“Then put your head back, love.”
Sirius raises his head, and Remus slips the loop of his tie around his neck, tightening it a bit before wrapping the tail around his knuckles and gripping. He keeps the tension up, so Sirius has to maintain the arch in his neck and back.
“We’ll get you a real one if you like pet, but this will have to do for now. Do you like it?”
“Yes Moony, I like it,” Sirius moans in response.
A wolfish grin crosses over Remus’s face before he spanks Sirius hard across the ass with his free hand, eliciting an obscene sound from Sirius’s throat. “Good.”
Remus grips the cheek where a red handprint is already starting to form, lowering his face down to swipe his tongue across the waiting hole in front of him.
“Fuck—”
Remus makes a few lazy circles around the puckered flesh before dipping inside.
“Oh fuck Moony that’s—”
Sirius interrupts himself with a gasp as Remus continues fucking in and out with his tongue.
“Oh Moony I want to touch myself but—but I won’t, I’ll be good for you, just like you said I’ll—Nnngghhhh...”
He relishes Sirius’s monologue but quickly becomes frustrated with the lack of depth he’s able to get to with his tongue alone. These wanton words are nice, but he wants to make Sirius scream.
With one hand still gripped around the tie, he whispers something in the direction of his free hand and his fingers are dripping wet—wandless magic comes easy before the moon. He presses a finger tip into Sirius, who lets out an immediate whine.
Sirius is tight and hot and blissful. Remus supposes it can’t be all that different than any of the others he’s been in—an arsehole’s an arsehole after all—but Sirius feels different around him. Sirius has been so good, and Remus doesn’t want to tease right now, so he goes straight for that soft special spot inside him. As soon as his long finger strokes along its surface, Sirius cries out and arches further back. Remus picks up the slack on his leash, holding his head back as he continues to caress him inside.
When he adds a second finger, Sirius does scream, though it’s muffled somewhat by the position of his neck.
“Fuck Moony I’m trying not to come but I think I might—”
Remus slows his hand and leans over Sirius’s back to whisper in his ear, pulling back the arm that grips the leash to keep it tight.
“I’ve got you, Pup. Just a bit longer.”
Remus adds a third finger and moves in and out at a crawling pace. He leaves wet kisses and firm bites across Sirius’s back, each one eliciting a louder whimper. When he's taking four fingers easily, Remus pulls away. Another wandless spell and Sirius is dripping wet too.
Remus guides himself closer ’til skin touches skin. The anticipation feels like toeing the edge of a deep pit. He knows once he jumps in there will be no end to it, that he’ll be utterly consumed by the darkness and he’ll never be able to return.
When he finally slips himself into Sirius, they both whine like dogs.
Remus fucks Sirius slowly at first, but deeply, each thrust an earth-shaking impact. As he settles into a rhythm, Remus finds that now he’s the talkative one, powerless against the stream of filth flowing from his mouth.
“Oh fuck you feel so good baby, it’s like your ass was fucking made for me—Fuck I won’t fuck anyone else as long as I live Pads, it’s only you I can’t—”
“Moony...”
“Bloody hell I’ve thought about this so many times, I think about you every time I—I only think about you—”
“Remus!”
His speed picks up. “You’re so good to me Pup, you’re so good baby I just want to—”
“MOONY!” The volume of Sirius's moans has increased alongside the pace of Remus's thrusts, to the point they can safely be categorized as shrieks or howls now.
"Fuck Sirius, keep saying my name, keep saying my name like that and I’ll give you everything I swear—”
“MOONY, FUCK”
Remus drops the end of the tie and moves his hand to grasp Sirius by the throat instead. He pulls the other boy up to his knees so his back is flush with Remus’s chest, biting down hard where his slender neck meets his shoulder before continuing his depraved soliloquy, now hissing directly into Sirius’s ear.
“You’ve been so good Pads, you’re such a good boy—I’m going to touch you now.” Remus reaches his arm around to grip Sirius’s leaking cock.
“OH MY GODS, REMUS—FUCK”
“Tell me you belong to me love, just tell me you’re all mine—you don’t know how long I’ve wanted you—”
“MOONS”
“I’m gonna fill you up darling, I’m gonna fill you up so deep that you’ll never be clean, I’m gonna be inside you forever—”
“YES MOONY, PLEASE”
And neither of them can say any more, their words devolving into sounds more animal than human until they come together in blissful oblivion and collapse into a sweating, wheezing heap on the bed.
After a moment, Sirius pants, “I’m yours Moony, I’m all yours, forever…”
Remus kisses Sirius’s hair, his forehead, his cheeks, the corners of his lips, the whole time breathing in deeply through his nose to catch the way their scents mingle together on Sirius’s body.
“Mine…mine…mine…” the wolf whispers. And for once Remus isn’t ashamed, not even when he realizes that he’s said it out loud, because Sirius is smiling and he smells like happiness and this isn’t a fantasy—this is real and it’s better than he ever thought he could have. They remain tangled up in each other, sticky with sweat and spit and cum as bite shaped bruises bloom across Sirius’s pale skin. Just before drifting into contented slumber, Remus realizes that the wolf is happy too.