the_water_clock: abstract painting (Untitled (Seagram Mural) 1959)
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Author: Clio
Title: How to Be a Top
Pairing: Harry Potter: Remus Lupin/Sirius Black/Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Remus and Seamus take advantage of Sirius's desires to teach Dean a lesson he should already know.
Length: 5400 words.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: This has been in the works for a while but had to cruise through some fits and starts. Many thanks to everyone who saw it during that time, but most especially to [livejournal.com profile] evil_erato for the amazing beta.



Remus thought to call The Wax Works a club was overly generous; it was more a pub with a sunken dance floor. Still, it was what passed for the gay wizarding nightlife in Glasgow; if one wanted a real scene one had to go to the Muggle part of town. The size also meant a sometimes uneasy coexistence with the local lesbian witch contingent (except for the Black and Blue parties, where the fetish seemed to outweigh any other considerations) and Sirius didn’t like to frequent the club for fear of running into McGonagall. Remus thought this to be a very unlikely event.

And then came Culture Club, the bright idea of the assistant manager to bring some of the younger locals into the somewhat sleepy pub by having an 80s night every Friday. Sirius took to it immediately; having missed the 80s entirely due to his “unfortunate incarceration” he was almost obsessed with reliving the decade in any way he could. He had mentioned it to Seamus Finnigan in passing at some gathering or another and the boy (right, not a boy, as he was five years out of Hogwarts and a practicing mediwizard) insisted on bringing Dean Thomas along with him the next week, and then the next, and then the next.

What this looked like in practice was Seamus and Sirius planted in the center of the dance floor for as long as possible, or at least until the Depeche Mode and Erasure songs had run out, while Remus and Dean sat at the bar with bemused detachment as their partners ignored the various men who vied to take them home. Not, of course, that either of them were the definite belles of this particular ball, but Seamus was young and magnetic, and Sirius was handsome and wearing tight trousers, which was more than enough for this crowd. After the first week, Remus and Dean began to treat it as a game with an elaborate scoring structure based on originality and tenacity. They agreed that maximum points would be given to a man who simply said, “You should come home with me,” though that hadn’t happened yet. Each night they would reward the top “scorer” with a consolation drink. In this way, the two relatively shy men, who both would rather observe than participate, began talking to each other as well as they could through the din of the club.

Then Sirius had an Idea. He and his dance partner had left the floor in search of refreshment, and when Seamus pulled Dean into the Gents Sirius slid onto the empty stool next to Remus and shouted, “I think we should bring them home one night, d’ya reckon?”

“WHAT?”

“Bring them home!” he shouted again.

“And do what with them?” Remus asked.

Sirius answered with a grin, and raised his eyebrows.

“Sirius, they’re children!”

“They’re 23!”

“They’re young enough to be our children!”

“Ah, but they aren’t!” He leaned even closer and added, “Anyway, I know you want him. I can tell.”

Remus started. “I’m sure Seamus is a very nice young man, but—”

“Not Seamus!” Sirius said, laughing a bit. “Dean!”

“Well, I . . . say! Don’t you pull me into your Big Black Cock fetish!”

Sirius threw his head back and laughed. “You’re blushing!”

“I most certainly am not!”

He leaned in close again and whispered low into Remus’s ear, “You know that you want to teach Dean everything he needs to know to be a good top. You’re such a good teacher and he looks up to you. It’s really your duty, don’t you think?” He suckled Remus’s earlobe for good measure, a period at the end of his sentence.

Remus crossed his legs and cleared his throat. “Well,” he said.

“Quite,” Sirius replied.

Just then Seamus and Dean returned from their excursion. “What’s next, then?” Seamus asked.

Remus threw back the rest of his drink, then looked Dean in the eye and said, “You should come home with us.”

Dean looked from Remus, to Sirius, to Seamus, who smiled at him dimples and all, and then replied, “All right then.”

“HA!” Seamus said to Sirius. “I knew you could do it!”

Remus scowled. “Right. Dean, consider this your first lesson in punishing your boyfriend for topping from the bottom,” he said, as he grabbed Sirius’s ear and used it to pull him off the stool and out of the club.

Seamus looked up at Dean, his eyes wide, and Dean laughed. “I keep telling you to be careful what you scheme for,” he said as he guided Seamus to the door.



As they walked in the door Dean wondered how this was all going to work. Even with the most spontaneous encounters there was that awkward moment when one stood lamely in the sitting room and the host said, “Can I get you a drink?” when both knew what he really wanted to say was, “Can I help you out of those trousers?” But then Dean realized he had forgotten that Seamus and Sirius were there. With those two, chaos didn’t double, but went up exponentially. Whenever the four of them would gather Dean felt like the Mole in Mr. Toad’s car, just hanging on for dear life while Remus, Water Rat-like, would try to keep them all on the road.

Sirius had hung his jacket near the door and thrown himself into a large chair in the sitting room. As Seamus walked past, he reached out an arm and pulled Seamus into his lap and they began snogging. Dean was amazed at the complete lack of pretense or preamble and wondered if Seamus had always behaved so wantonly with partners other than Dean or if he felt freer to be slutty because Dean was there. One never knew with Seamus.

He felt a hand on his back, and looked over to see Remus standing next to him. “Shall we sit on the sofa?” he asked.

Dean chuckled. “I’m surprised you didn’t offer me a drink,” he said as they sat down.

Remus looked over at the chair, whose inhabitants were now shirtless, shoeless and openly groping, and said, “I think we’ve all had enough to drink, don’t you?”

Dean nodded, settling back into the seat a bit more. Given the circumstances, he allowed himself to stare quite openly at Remus, who was still watching Sirius and Seamus. Remus had been Dean’s first male crush: dignified but caring, powerful without any obvious physical advantage, intelligent yet able and willing to share his knowledge with others. In his adolescent dreams Remus’s professorial voice started out patiently teaching him how to have sex with Parvati Patil but oddly as the year went on he began teaching Dean how to have sex with Lee Jordan. This had been decidedly confusing, particularly as it led to Dean having far more unexpected erections in DADA than in any other class.

He never had them in Potions.

Even now that they had become friendly as adults, that voice had an effect on him. Seamus knew this, as he eventually knew all things, and used it to get Dean to agree to this improbable foursome. But now he sat here on the couch next to this man who somehow exuded power and control and he didn’t have the faintest idea what to do. And then he heard that voice.

“They certainly are getting along without us,” Remus said. He turned to Dean and continued, “Shall we let them carry on, or make them save themselves for us?”

Dean looked back at the chair and saw that things between Sirius and Seamus had advanced. They had shed all of their clothing and were frantically stroking each other’s erections while kissing everything within reach. He thought for a moment, then said, “I say let them carry on. If they are that hot for it, they may as well take the edge off; it will make them more patient later.” He looked back at Remus.

“Well done,” Remus said. “But what about you? Do you need the edge taken off?” He slid along the cushions until he was sitting next to Dean, their thighs touching.

“I might,” Dean replied. “Are you offering your services?”

Remus looked at Dean. “God, your mouth is so sexy,” he whispered as he leaned in for a kiss.

Dean sat back a little, surprised. Not that Remus was kissing him; that he expected. But the kiss was much more aggressive than he was used to. Remus was clearly in command, though he used the lightest of touches. His hands were resting lightly on Dean’s shoulder and knee but Dean was as pinned to the couch as if he’d been tied there. He couldn’t remember the last time that yielding to another turned him on this much. When Remus finally released his lips, he said, “Since you think my mouth is so sexy, why don’t you let me go down on you?”

Remus grinned. “Be my guest,” he said, pulling away and sitting back on the couch. “But take off those clothes, first.”

Dean nodded, slipping his orange fine gauge jumper over his head, along with his T-shirt. He stood and slid off his trousers, boxers and socks, and realized that even standing there naked, cock half hard, he didn’t feel self-conscious in the least. After all, Remus had told him to disrobe, hadn’t he? He knelt between Remus’s legs and reached up to unfasten his trousers. Sirius and Seamus’s antics must have really got to Remus, as Dean could feel him quite hard under his dark wool trousers. Remus lifted up his hips, and off came his trousers and pants. His skin was pale and golden, not unlike Seamus’s, but covered with darker hair and the same web of scars that Dean had noticed long ago on his arms.

Remus’s cock was quite dark, angled slightly to the right, and seemed to be staring right at Dean, so he leaned forward and took as much of it into his mouth as he could. Remus sighed and Dean could feel him settling back into the couch, relaxing into his touch. He rested his hands lightly on Remus’s thighs and was just getting to work when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up at Remus.

“This is very nice for me, Dean, but what about you?” he asked. When Dean didn’t move, he said, “Now, slide back, there you go. Look over at the chair.”

Dean turned and saw that Sirius and Seamus had to have been doing a lot of teasing, because they were still going, though Seamus certainly looked close. But it was Sirius who came first, shouting as he thrust up into Seamus’s hand. Then he focussed on Seamus, moving his hand faster and pulling him into a kiss. Seamus lasted all of thirty seconds under such concentrated attention and pulled Sirius close as his body shuddered.

“See? Now you wouldn’t have wanted to miss that. Budge over.” Remus slid down onto the floor next to Dean and gently pushed him down so he was laying on his side, then lay down in the opposite direction.

Dean got the idea and moved closer to Remus’s cock. He liked this way of giving head, even though it was upside down. Much easier to reach Remus’s balls, which were so soft, dry and musky smelling, or to slip a wet finger into his arse. It just made licking that sensitive vein on the underside more challenging. But anything worth doing is worth doing well so Dean tried very hard to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than be distracted by Remus. But his mouth was so perfectly warm and wet and strong as it slid along between Dean’s legs, his hand stroking Dean’s cock whenever his mouth was occupied elsewhere.

Dean was determined, however, not to come first, but to show some control and give Remus pleasure whether he wanted it or not. He took his cock into his mouth and throat as far as it could go and moved up and down along it, alternately sucking hard at the tip and plunging down as close to the root as he could, suckling with his lips, his tongue, even his throat, before pulling back again. He could feel Remus’s balls tighten under his fingers so he pulled his head just a bit and ran the back of his tongue across the head and Remus jerked and came in his mouth.

But he recovered from his own orgasm faster than Dean did, for no sooner had Dean swallowed and begun to ease Remus out of his mouth and kiss him a bit than Remus was demanding all of his attention. Dean gave in, rolling onto his back, and Remus shifted slightly so that he was above and slightly to the side. Dean looked up and saw that Sirius and Seamus had evidently stepped over them and were sitting on the couch, rapt. Seamus caught his eye and grinned at him, that impish grin that hinted at secret knowledge and always meant trouble, and he saw how Sirius looked at Remus, and suddenly he was overwhelmed. He closed his eyes and felt the orgasm wash over him.

When he opened them again, Remus was sitting next to him, running his hand over Dean’s shaven head. “Well,” he said, “shall we go upstairs?”



Remus thought this might easily have been the most bizarre thing Sirius had ever talked him into. And Sirius, with or without James, had talked him into a great many bizarre things over the years. But teaching this boy—no, this man, for he was surely a man if he could give head like that—how to be a “good top”? Was this one of those seminars they advertised in the free papers? “Professor Remus J. Lupin, lately of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, expert on all forms of topping. No experience necessary. Lube and toys provided, but please bring your own bottom.” It was absurd.

Anyway, he didn’t need any lessons; he was a natural. He had that sort of presence that could make even Sirius shut the fuck up on occasion, and yet he was so quiet about it, so unassuming. But unlike Remus, who was almost obsessively hyper aware of what other people thought of him, Dean had absolutely no sense whatsoever of how he came across. He seemed to think that Seamus tailed along after him for mysterious reasons of his own, didn’t notice the boys who wandered past him in the pub like peacocks on parade. He didn’t need skills; he had those in spades, or would get them without Remus having to show him. What he needed was awareness.

But how to show him this? Remus tried to stall while the other men climbed onto the bed which Sirius had enlarged for the occasion. He took his time filling some glasses with water in the bathroom, but he could see the other men’s reflections in the mirror above the sink. Sirius was making sure the enlargement charm had held, and was fishing for the little pots of homemade lubricant in the dresser. He was still handsome to Remus, and he could project it, plus more charm than most people could withstand, if he wanted to. He always had needed an anchor, something to keep him from flying off the rails; he gave in because he had to. Seamus, who was pulling extra pillows out of the closet, was another matter entirely. What he lacked in natural good looks he made up for in a sunny disposition, and he was every bit the formidable charmer that Sirius was. But it seemed to Remus that he surrendered himself as a gift, as the natural extension of his generous nature.

Well, of course. That was the answer.

He went back into the bedroom. Dean was sitting at the foot of the bed, looking for him to be some kind of sex sensei. Sirius, as usual, had given up any responsibility the instant that he had got Remus involved, and was leaning against the headboard, his arms and legs crossed. Seamus was sprawled across the middle, taking up a remarkable amount of space for someone so small, and had both men’s feet in his hands.

“It’s about time,” Sirius said. “How long does it take to pour some water, anyway?”

Remus scowled as he put the water down on the side table. “All right then,” he said, “you two, on your hands and knees at the head of the bed.”

They scrambled to comply, moving some of the pillows out of the way, as Remus knelt on the bed in front of Seamus. Dean slid over, and now was kneeling in front of Sirius. Remus sat back on his haunches, and handed Dean a pot of lube. He looked down at Dean’s cock, which stood at half staff, much as his own. “Anticipation is all well and good,” Remus said, “but it only gets you so far. Particularly when you’ve already had one orgasm.” He motioned with his hand, and Sirius and Seamus crawled forward and began to suck the cocks that were in front of them.

Then he assumed the most professorial voice he could under the circumstances, as Seamus was really a very talented young man. He stroked at the dirty blond hair as he spoke to Dean. “What’s important isn’t so much what you do, as the manner in which you do it. I’ve found it’s one of those things you either have or you don’t.”

“I see,” said Dean, looking about as downcast as one can while receiving a blow job, which was to say, only a little.

“Dean,” Remus said, putting his hand under Dean’s chin to get his attention. “You have it. Look in your lap.”

Dean looked down at Sirius’s dark head, moving furiously. “But you—”

Remus shook his head. “You’ll see. Anyway, he’ll only do what you want if you tell him in the right way. Mmm, I think that’s enough of that, Seamus,” he said, and Seamus released him and sat up. “You’re a talkative one, aren’t you?”

Seamus nodded. “Dean likes it.”

“I’m sure you’re very good at it, but for tonight let’s try something different. I want you to tell me everything I need to know, just with your body.”

“Okay,” he replied, looking a bit concerned.

“Seamus,” Remus said, smiling, “you’ll be fine. Now relax.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius could see Seamus sinking down into the bed. Remus really was amazing, but then so was this lovely man before him. It was a challenge to get all of his quite long cock into his mouth, but Sirius was nearly there and Dean was growing nice and hard under his attentions. Then he felt a hand in his hair, and he released the cock from his mouth and sat up.

Dean was looking at him, soberly, with those deep brown eyes. Sirius tossed his hair back with a shake of his head. He knew that in the low light, with his hair wild and his lips shiny from sucking Dean’s cock, he had to look damn good but he still sucked in his stomach for good measure.

“I wish you wouldn’t preen,” Dean said. “It’s degrading.”

“Er,” Sirius replied, confused. He let out his breath. “Sorry.”

“Why did you ask Seamus to arrange this?” Dean asked.

Now, the safe, easy answer would have been something about Seamus, with whom he’d been flirting for years. But those words wouldn’t come. He sat there, likely looking like a complete idiot, his mouth open.

“You can tell me,” Dean said, putting his hands on Sirius’s shoulders.

Sirius swallowed, then licked his lips. Seamus had once said, “Oh, you can’t lie to Dean,” as though he were saying, “Oh, you can’t make ice out of oil” or something equally obvious. Sirius had thought then that Seamus just wasn’t clever enough, but here he was, himself, absolutely unable to say a word that was untrue.

“I wanted to be with you,” Sirius finally replied.

Dean looked at him for a long moment, then seemed to make up his mind about something. He leaned forward and kissed Sirius, harsh and firm, and Sirius yielded to the kiss and to the arms pushing him back on the bed. Dean nestled between Sirius’s legs and Sirius pushed up just a little, trying to rub their cocks together, but Dean slipped away, down Sirius’s body. His hands—so large, these hands! such long fingers!—were still holding Sirius’s torso down to the bed as his mouth moved along Sirius’s neck and throat. Sirius lifted his arms up to rub Dean’s back and shoulders, feeling he should be participating in some way but not sure how, exactly; Dean wasn’t giving many signs.

What Dean was doing, was sliding his hands and mouth along Sirius’s chest and stomach in the slowest, most deliberate way, as if mapping every curve and contour, every muscle and bone and hair. Sirius didn’t want slow; he wanted it all nownownow because he had already been waiting too long and thinking too much about Dean’s cock (a cock that didn’t disappoint in any way) being so far up his arse that he wouldn’t be able to sit for days. Sirius shifted his hips, trying to move things along, but Dean paid him no mind, just continuing with his soft kisses and slow, easy touches that had moved from his torso to his arms and shoulders. He turned to look at Remus and Seamus, who were snogging like mad and rubbing against each other, but Dean turned his head back with one hand.

“You look at me,” Dean said, and then kissed him again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seamus could see how Dean moved and knew from experience that Sirius was in for it, as he was even more impatient than Seamus was, and Seamus himself could barely stand it when Dean decided to take things really slow. He would have laughed, but Remus had his tongue most of the way down his throat so it was pretty well impossible. Besides, he was supposed to be letting his body talk rather than his voice. So he slid his right leg sideways just enough to let Remus fall down between his legs, and moved his hands down from Remus’s shoulders to his hips, sinking his fingers into the firm flesh of Remus’s arse.

Remus sat up slightly. “So you want to be fucked, do you?” Seamus nodded.

Remus grinned at him, reaching for the lube, and as his fingers began to do their work Seamus relaxed, tipping his hips forward and spreading his legs even wider as he sank into the bed. Remus’s fingers were much smaller than Dean’s, he noticed, but stronger and more sure in their movement. He risked a glance over at Dean, who was moving slow as molasses over a still-squirming Sirius.

Seamus closed his eyes and smiled. He dearly loved being taken care of, the way Sirius had earlier, the way Dean nearly always did, which was why it was so nice to see Dean being taken care of, by Remus, earlier. Suddenly he had a thought, and opened his eyes to look at Remus, who was smiling down at Seamus as he rubbed Seamus’s chest and stomach with one hand while the other was stretching him in the loveliest of ways. But how to tell him without speaking?

Remus finished, easing his fingers out of Seamus, so Seamus seized the moment to sit up. He pulled himself more fully into Remus’s lap, then twisted his hips and shoulders slightly as they kissed. Remus read his signals, turning them both until Remus was on his back, Seamus sitting on top of him. The maneuver had brought them slightly closer to the other couple; now Remus lay close enough to Sirius to touch him if he reached out his hand. But those hands were more than content to stay attached to Seamus.

Reluctantly, Seamus sat up, found the pot of lube and slid back a bit on Remus’s legs. He slicked the cream onto Remus’s hard cock, rubbing it harder if that was even possible, and his mouth nearly watered to think of it penetrating him. He set the pot down, wiping his hands against his own chest, then tipped forward to kiss Remus again, shifting so that his weight rested on his own feet rather than his knees or Remus’s thighs. He held tight to Remus’s biceps as he raised up on his legs, then took one hand away just long enough to ease the tip of Remus’s cock into his own opening. His original idea had been to tease, but Remus was looking up at him so sexy, so full of need, eyes glazed and mouth hanging open and brown-grey hair spread across his pillow and spilling over his brow that Seamus wanted it all, and wanted it now. He let gravity pull him down, impaling himself on Remus’s cock. Both men let out a groan, and Seamus clenched his teeth tightly to keep from speaking as he got used to the sudden invasion.

“Seamus,” Remus grunted, with some effort, “go ahead and talk, so long as you move.”

Seamus grinned, slow and sexy, as he raised himself up and down a few times before finding a comfortable rhythm. “God, Remus, so sexy, wanna take care of you now, no, don’t move, just hold on to me, that’s right, god, your arms are so strong.” Seamus looked down into Remus’s eyes and he closed his eyes lest he come just from the heat of that stare. “Fuck, Remus, so good, CHRIST.” He leaned back a little more so he could move faster and Remus’s hands were so strong on his hips, keeping him from falling no matter what. “Gah, FUCK me,” he said, and he wanted to make Remus come first, like Dean had, so he moved even faster, up and down, up and down, until Remus’s hands suddenly gripped his hips tight enough to bruise. He stopped, mid-thrust, and opened his eyes.

Remus’s head was raised and he was panting, hard, flexing every muscle. He shouted, coming hard, and Seamus rode it out until he was done, his head relaxing back against the pillow again. Seamus sat flush against Remus’s legs, catching his breath, feeling Remus soften inside him, then turned to look at the others.

While Seamus and Remus were otherwise occupied, Dean had clearly got Sirius beyond the impatience, teased him until the tension had peaked and then eased back out of him again. He lay against the bed looking spent, even though his cock was hard as ever. It seemed to Seamus that Dean’s approach had stripped Sirius of all of the airs and artifice he protected himself with and he lay bare, looking younger than any of them.

“What about you, Seamus?” Remus asked.

Seamus turned back. “Let’s watch them.” He leaned forward for a kiss, letting Remus slip out of him, then rolled off him, away from the other couple. Remus sat up, sliding up to rest against the pillows at the headboard. Seamus crawled into his open arms, situating himself for a good view of the other couple as he rested his head against Remus’s shoulder. His arse was a little sore and wet from the fucking, but he forgot all about that when Remus’s hand slipped down to wrap around his still-hard cock.

Seamus and Remus watched as Dean sat up, grabbed the pot of homemade lube Remus had handed him earlier, and nudged Sirius’s legs open with his knee. A large dark finger slid into Sirius’s arse, making him gasp, his eyes not leaving Dean’s face even for an instant. Dean was still moving deliberately, setting his own measured pace, and Sirius’s entire body was responding to his touch, undulating as Dean’s fingers penetrated him.

Dean quickly slicked up his own cock, then grasped Sirius’s long thighs to wrap them loosely about his waist before moving his hands under Sirius’s arse. Sirius raised his head, biting his lip as he watched Dean’s cockhead push into him. Seamus tried to remember to breathe; Dean looked so beautiful, working with such care, such concentration.

“God, he’s so malleable,” Remus whispered. “It’s rare.”

Seamus nodded, settling deeper into Remus’s strong arms. It was good, not being in a rush, just watching things unfold. Dean was well in Sirius, to the hilt, and began to thrust, slow and hard and deep, and Sirius’s entire body shuddered with the force of it. Dean’s large, dark hands were in stark, beautiful contrast to Sirius’s pale skin

Not so, of course, with Remus and Seamus; their coloring was so similar that it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended in the pile of tangled limbs they made at the head of the bed. Remus’s hand followed the same unhurried rhythm as Dean, but Seamus was feeling overloaded all the same, with Remus’s touch on top of the images and sounds and smells all around him, so he leaned back for the taste of Remus’s mouth on his. Over the edge he went, reaching up his hand to pull Remus’s head even closer as he came, semen falling all over Remus’s hands and their entwined legs.

Seamus closed his eyes and leaned back against Remus, luxuriating in the embrace Sirius had once called “safe but dangerous.” After a bit, he looked up at Dean and saw something so familiar that he could recall it on command, so he thought he should warn his friend as best he could.

“Oh, Dean’s going to come soon, you’d better relax ‘cause when he starts slow he ends coming like a train,” and he had called it just in time, because Dean stopped thrusting, fully sheathed in Sirius but somehow trying to get in further, pushing hard against his hips, his mouth open in a shout with no sound, and something he did must have let Sirius go for he was coming, too, against Dean’s stomach and his own, letting out his own little whimper.

Dean fell back onto his haunches, sliding out of Sirius, who let his legs fall to the bed on either side of him. He tipped his head back, closing his eyes and catching his breath, and then looked at Seamus and Remus huddled together.

“I told you so,” Remus said, and Seamus could feel him smiling against the back if his neck. Dean smiled back, nodding, then let himself collapse onto his back across the foot of the bed.

Seamus thought that Dean’s arms looked like a nice place to be, so after a last kiss for Remus he carefully made his way over, settling into his arm and against his chest in that way where they fit perfectly against each other. He looked up to see Remus grabbing Sirius’s hand and kissing the palm. Then Dean’s arm was around him and he felt a soft kiss in his hair before he drifted off to sleep.



The first thing Sirius thought the next morning was, “Who the fuck told the sun to shine in my face?”

The second thing he thought was, “My god, I am never going to sit comfortably again.”

Then he looked around at Remus, whose chest he’d been using as a pillow, and at Dean and Seamus on the other side of him and thought, “Sirius, you clever, clever bastard.”

He slid out of bed to close the curtains, used the toilet, then came back to see Remus sitting up on his elbows. This didn’t surprise him; Remus nearly always woke up if he sensed Sirius wasn’t there. He crawled back into bed, into his lover’s arms.

“Like it?” he asked.

“Yes,” Remus replied, smiling just a little.

“Forgive me?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Eventually,” he answered, trying not to grin.

“Don’t be smug.”

“If I weren’t smug—”

“Yes, yes, you wouldn’t be Sirius.” They settled closer, then Remus said, “Well, your punishment, then . . . ”

“Yes,” Sirius said, just a bit apprehensively.

“. . . is to make breakfast.” Remus smiled, a big proper smile this time.

“Not much of a punishment,” Sirius said.

“Not much of a crime,” Remus replied, kissing him.

Date: 2005-09-30 07:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jlh.livejournal.com
What a nice compliment! I admit, I'm much with the clothing porn. I'm so glad you found it funny. I feel like there isn't enough humor in smut often, which I find odd as sex is inherently comical, don't you think?

Thanks again!
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