|the_water_clock (the_water_clock) wrote,|
@ 2003-08-07 02:42 am UTC
|Current music:||Fool in the Rain | Led Zeppelin|
|Entry tags:||[ canon: harry potter other ], [ pairing: harry/draco ]|
Title:Down the Pub
Pairing: Harry Potter: Remus Lupin/Harry Potter
Summary: Remus tries to teaches Harry to play billiards, but Harry wants to learn something else. Or does he?
Length: 1100 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: NOT in the EWFS-verse.
This one is for maybethemoon. A sequel of sorts to The Worst Thing That Could Happen. Thank you to nmalfoy for the insta-beta. By the way, while Remus does teach Harry something about billiards, this is in NO WAY based on lupercus from NA. If anything, this particular Remus was probably stolen from Minx; hence the scotch.
"Do you mean to tell me," Remus Lupin said, "that you have reached the advanced age of twenty-five and you do not know how to play billiards properly?"
Harry Potter shrugged. "I was self-taught, I suppose."
"Well, your technique is all wrong," he continued, taking another gulp from the glass of scotch in his hand. "You are never going to improve playing like that."
"Okay then," Harry replied. "You show me, since your technique is so good."
"Don't think I won't."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "What's stopping you?"
Remus looked through the smoky air of the pub at Harry and narrowed his eyes.
"Fine, you think about it, and I'll get us another round." As Harry walked to the bar of the seedy Muggle pub, he could feel Remus' eyes on him, and he smiled to himself. Getting a rise out of the werewolf was definitely the most entertaining part of being with him, no question.
When he returned to the table with another scotch for Remus and a bourbon for himself Remus was leaning against the near side of the table, a cue in each hand. "Right. I'll teach you, but you'll have to take it seriously. No messing about."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry replied as he exchanged a glass for a cue. "So what should I do first?"
Remus set his drink down on a side rail. "Okay, stand there, right, but widen your stance a bit, yes, that's right, now when you hit the ball, you'll be more stable--Harry."
"What?" he replied, looking over his shoulder.
Remus sighed. "You're holding the cue all wrong."
"Oh," Harry said, sitting up a little. "Like this?"
"No!" Remus put his hands over Harry's and pushed him into the right position, and found himself bent over Harry, his pelvis snug against Harry's arse. The other man shifted his hips slightly, rubbing against Remus, who startled. "I told you to behave," Remus whispered, his breath hot in Harry's ear.
"What if I don't want to?" Harry asked. He felt Remus tense against him, and then he was gone. Harry turned to see that Remus had stood up and grabbed his scotch, which he downed it in one gulp. Harry followed suit with his own drink, his eyes on Remus the entire time. Remus grabbed Harry's hand, yanking him away from the table, and the cue sticks clattered on the floor.
Remus walked quickly to one of the pub's back toilets, hauling Harry behind him, then pushing him through the door before slamming it and locking it behind them. "Is this what you wanted?" he asked as he shoved Harry up against a wall covered with graffiti.
"You know it is," Harry said, pulling Remus toward him by his shirt for a crushing kiss. Their feet shifted awkwardly on the bits of paper that littered the sticky floor as they scrambled to get close enough to kiss but far enough to push aside inconvenient bits of clothing. Both of their shirts were quickly unbuttoned and Harry was a fair way along unfastening Remus' belt by the time they needed to stop snogging and suck the hot, wet air of the tiny room into their lungs.
"We're going to get kicked out of another pub," Harry said before running his tongue along Remus' collar bone.
"We wouldn't," Remus replied, gasping, "if you'd just do this in gay bars instead of straight ones."
"Wouldn't be any fun," Harry replied, grinning as he unfastened Remus' fly and slid his hand inside the denim to feel the hard cock inside. But Remus pushed him away.
"All right, you, turn around." Harry complied, and felt Remus shove his jeans down around his knees and pull his hips back. Some fumbling, and then a slick finger was sliding into Harry, quickly followed by another. Harry arched his back, pushing his chest against the wall and his arse back onto the teasing fingers. Then suddenly they were gone.
Remus grabbed Harry's hips to steady him, then quickly penetrated him, shoving him against the wall. He had just enough time to brace himself before the thrusting began, quick and hard and violent. Harry loved that with just a bit of teasing, and the right environment, he could push past Remus' cultured exterior to the baser instincts beneath. He would pick a pub in an unfamiliar town, find a way to drive Remus to distraction, and they would rut like animals in the men's room, then Apparate directly home, sometimes without remembering to unlock the door. Of course, this only worked in the most rough of Muggle pubs, but then, that's what kept things exciting.
Remus had moved so that his entire body was pushing Harry into the wall, and Harry felt his cock growing so hard he thought he might explode. "Please?" he whispered.
"Please what?" Remus asked.
"Ah--make me come, Remus, make me come," he begged breathlessly.
The lube-covered hand slid down to grasp his cock firmly, but it took only the barest of touches for Harry to come, his semen splattering on the wall before them. Remus thrust a few more times, then stopped, spent, collapsing against Harry, pushing him further into the wall. Harry closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath.
When he opened them again, he found himself not half-dressed in the back toilet of a Muggle pub, but naked in the cozy bathroom of a two-bedroom flat off Diagon Alley. Fuck, he thought. This place will never be clean before—
"Why do I keep catching you like this?" a voice behind him drawled.
Harry turned around quickly. "How long have you been home?" he asked.
"Long enough," Draco Malfoy replied. "Couldn't you have waited for me?" he asked, pouting slightly.
Harry stood up and pulled Draco to him. "Poor baby," he joked, giving his lover a kiss. "Anyway, I'll last longer this way."
Draco scowled, unappeased. "You weren't even thinking of me! Goddamn werewolf."
"Nothing I could ever imagine," Harry said, shaking his head, "could be hotter than the reality of you," and kissed him again.
Draco sighed, mumbling against Harry's lips.
"What?" Harry asked, pulling back.
"I said, 'unimaginative Gryffindor'."
Harry replied by cuffing the back of Draco's head.
"Just get into the bedroom so I can fuck you."
As they left the room, Harry said, "You know, I was thinking, for the house? Maybe we should have a really big bathroom, with a black marble shower . . . "