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klenaYour turn!
For: The wonderful Trowicia (a fantastic artist and don’t let her say any different!) – my fandom Wolfstar twin who thinks the same way I do and who I hope to know for a long, long time.
Prompt: Remus/Sirius humour, any era
Word Count: 2, 079
Pairings: Look about – R/S all the way!
Warnings: The language! (Sirius Black has a filthy mouth – So does Remus!) Drunkenness and molesting prefects against a wall. Also, there is a lot of talk about nipples.
Comments: This is the very first one finished and the first person I wrote wall ravishing and licking explicitly for. The lucky girl!
Feedback: would be most excellent.
“Yoooooooou are DRUNK!”
“So sayeth the Gryffindor talking to my nipples and spilling Firewhiskey over my trousers.”
The first voice, slurred and blissfully, gloriously drunk, belonged to Sirius and the second voice, drier and notably less slurred, was Remus’s. It had been a boring night, late in December – both James and Peter were at home for the holidays where Remus thought he would have been. Unfortunately Remus’s parents had sent him a late owl the day before term ended, announcing that Aunt Margot had wanted to have Christmas at her house in the middle of the cold, abandoned moors of Devon. Remus opted out of the torture known hilariously as ‘family get-togethers’ and Aunt Margot’s ‘innocent’ pinching of his backside and elected to stay in Hogwarts with Sirius and to accompany Sirius this particular night to The Three Broomsticks for a Christmas drinking session.
Sirius, on the other hand, didn’t get the opportunity to leave Hogwarts but that matter was wholly too depressing to talk about and not in keeping with the Christmas spirit, so the less said about it, the better. In fact, Sirius had an announcement to make:
“NIPPLES!” Sirius announced loudly, spilling yet more Firewhiskey over the much-abused trousers of poor Remus J. Lupin who had only wanted to get back to Gryffindor Towers in order to throw Sirius into bed and read. Just thinking about reading, his one true love, Remus’s eyes misted over and he heaved a great mournful sigh worthy of great literature.
“You’re thinking about READING, Moooohoony! And at Christmas! What sort of Gryffindor are you, mate? ” Sirius huffed into the other’s ear.
“…How did you know that?”
“That great mournful sigh. The one that sounded like a cow was dying after being run over by one of the traction-thingies.”
“…Fuck you Padfoot.”
“Always knew you wanted into my unmentionables.”
“It’s just a pity you don’t keep them unseenables… Oh sweet Merlin’s bollocks, you just caused me to use a word that doesn’t exist Pads. Not on!”
“I feel a great source of warm, tingly pride at that. And also I feel, I feel… – a great wave of nausea – fuck, get out of the way Moony.”
Moony did not get out of the way, but did step aside and held Sirius’s hair back as the lad threw up what must have been most of Honeydukes stock and at least 2 weeks worth of pre-Christmas dinner and turkey sandwiches. And then threw up even more. Remus sighed again, and began rubbing Sirius’s back in what he intended to be a reassuring gesture. Instead it just produced more vomiting – not quite the desired intention.
“I will never eat turkey, cranberries or carrots again.”
“Ughhhhhhhhh,” came the answering gurgling response from Sirius who lurched forward as if to dive into the new colourful puddle at the corner of The Three Broomsticks. Luckily, Sirius had his Remus to grab him around the waist and spin him towards the road to Hogwarts. Remus found himself regretting saving Sirius from drowning in his own vomit.
“Feel seasick.”
“Good thing we’re on land then, isn’t it?” Remus laughed as one does when they are exasperated and tired and wanting their bed and swung an arm around his friend’s waist.
After several minutes of trying to leave Hogsmeade and picking a woozy-Sirius-shape from falling in the snow, there came another great announcement:
“I’m going to become a pirate! AND sail the SEAS OF SCHOTLAND!” As the volume of Sirius’ voice went up, so too did the number of frantic ‘sssshhhh!’ s from Remus.
“Scotland doesn’t have any seas. And you just told me you felt seasick.”
“NONSENSE MOONY! Black’s don’t get seasick.”
“Black’s generally don’t puke up outside The Three Broomsticks either, but you seem to be making an exception for all of these rules and more besides.”
“….You’re trying to confuse me with your brain. Not on, mate. You know I can’t defeat you in a battle of words.”
“Not when you’re this drunk.”
“….N’drunk.”
“So sober people call Scotland, ‘Schotland’ regularly, do they? And oh look! A bottle of Firewhiskey in your hand.” Sirius snorted, and waggled a finger in front of Remus’s nose.
“There’s no bottle of….oh wait, there is….HERE! Where’d all the Firewhiskey go?”
“On my trousers.”
“Moony, you sly fox, stop trying to entice me with your enticing dirty talk. You know my darling McGoogly-eyes will only get extremely jealous. And green – although she does wear a lot of green already. Maybe she’s constantly jealous of you…Now…Where’d my Firewhiskey go?”
“On my trousers. You spilled it when you told my nipples they were drunk.” Sirius thought on this statement for a long moment before announcing:
“NIPPLES!” Remus sighed again.
“We’ve been here before, I fear.” Sirius grinned, nuzzled into Remus’s hair and asked, as if he were inquiring about the weather:
“Are your nipples drunk Remus, old chum?”
“No, but I think you are,” came the response as certain parts of Remus’s body reacted to having a hot Sirius Black pressed against the length of it. His brain cried out in utterly repressed British horror and became thinking about things such as toenails and Potions and very, VERY cold showers.
“….Am I your nipples?”
“……I don’t have an answer to thAT! OW!! What was that for?! You utter sodding wanker – not on!”
Sirius looked besotted pleased with himself and decided to share his good mood with Remus by giving him the biggest grin he could muster. Unfortunately, Remus and his now-very-sore-nipple were not as happy.
“I wanted your nipple.” Sirius explained, with the definite, matter-of-fact air only a drunken man can possess.
“Well I now want your head on a pike but we all want things we can’t have.” Remus snorted. Sirius fell strangely quiet and if he hadn’t kept walking up towards Hogwarts, Remus would have assumed he was asleep. However, he knew what stage of the well-documented ‘Padfoot drinking moods’ he was entering now – the childish, surly stage. Remus shivered suddenly against a cold chill no one else felt and continued their trek back towards the school.
Despite the fact he was talking utter crap and couldn’t quite remember what happened to all his Firewhiskey, Sirius wasn’t drunk…OK, maybe he was but he wasn’t drunk enough that he didn’t know what was going on around him but
“Hey, when’d we get to Hogwarts?”
…OK, he amended mentally, maybe he wasn’t quite aware about what was going on but he knew he was with Moony so therefore he was safe. And Moony smelt really nice. Like mulled wine and dusty books and night and ink. He didn’t know a person could smell like night but he did. It was nice. Reassuring, like.
“…Pads?”
“Hm?”
“Are you smelling my hair?”
“Crazy, Moony. Absolute tosh……OK, maybe I am. Just a little bit… You smell nice?”
“….I feel we’re crossing the normal boundaries of friendship here.”
“Phfh, no we’re not. James and I do tons of stuff like this and we’re still mates.”
“But you and James are….well, you and James.”
“Well spotted Moony! Ten points to Gryffindor!”
“…Wanker.”
“Tosser.”
“Bastard.”
“Twat.”
“Miscreant.”
“Shirt-lifter.”
There was another silence, brought about by Remus. They walked through the entrance Hall and up towards Gryffindor Tower. Sirius wondered what he had said wrong but he couldn’t quite remember but Moony hadn’t removed his arm from his waist, so he wasn’t that angry.
“I’m not gay.”
“Huh?”
“I’m not gay Padfoot.”
“Hahahaha, bollocks my dear Moonshine. You’re as gay as a giant shiny spangly rainbow with neon
letters.”
“Your analogies make my brain cry.”
“Thank you, I do try.”
“You are very trying.”
“You wound me Moony, right here.”
“…In your knee?”
“Shit. I’m meant to be pointing at my heart…I think my hand is dead.”
“Tragic.”
“Well, bollocks to you too.”
“….I’m not though.”
That was it. Sirius wouldn’t quite remember what it was about those three words that made him snap but they did and Remus found himself pinned against the nearest stonewall.
“Pads – what – ?”
“Shut up. You are an idiot.”
There were many responses – each more ornate and witty and clever as the last – but Remus never got the opportunity to say any of them because Sirius pressed his body flush against Remus’s own and whispered against his cheek:
“Time only knows the price we have to pay; if I could tell you I would let you know.”
“Th-that’s Auden.”
“Should have know my Moony would know his poetry,” Sirius muttered, dragging his tongue up the length of Remus’s neck. He’d never done this with another boy – James and the previous summer didn’t really count – but he knew he was doing something right when Remus moaned – a sound that went straight to his cock.
“Fuck, fuck Pads – what are you doing?”
“Proving you’re not gay,” was the response that rumbled through his skin as the tongue licked at the hollow of his neck and turned his knees to rubber bands. The hands pinning his arms to the wall slipped away to slide up his shirt and trail a burning path up and down his chest. Remus leant further into the touch, writhing at every ghosting fingertip over sensitive skin and, slightly hesitantly, swirled his tongue along the shell of Sirius’s ear.
“Sweet Merlin’s wrinkly bollocks, do that again.”
Remus leant in again and licked again, feeling Sirius groan and thrust against him – drawing a needy moan from his own throat as he felt Sirius hard against his hip. Gentle thrusting – shifting slightly to accommodate one another and starting to build a rhythm that was growing more frantic and tongues against flesh and hitching breaths and needy moans shared when
“WHAT do you think you’re DOING to that prefect, Mr. Black?”
Remus leapt back as if struck by a bolt of lightning only to smack his head against the wall and slump, slightly dazed, into Sirius arms, which were entangled in his shirt.
“Mistletoe, my darling Professor,” Sirius lied with his usual grace, “and, as you weren’t around and my dear Mr. Lupin had prevented me from drowning just outside The Three Broomsticks so I decided to spread the Christmas cheer. So to speak.”
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow and cast a quick glance above their heads.
“And just where is this mistletoe?”
“You know Hogwarts at Christmas – mistletoe frolics from corridor to corridor like nobody’s business.”
“Nobody’s business…Mr. Black, do you ever listen to yourself?”
“I try not to Professor, it only spoils the illusion. I have Remus here to proof-read all my conversations…except for those particularly illicit ones I profess only to you, my love.”
“I feel a detention coming your way Mr. Black.”
“Professor,” Remus said, speaking up for the first time from his place against the wall and trying desperately not to discover any further shades of crimson, “Sirius has had a bit to drink – please excuse him.” Remus coupled the last few words with a well-aimed elbow to the ribs, which also allowed him space to move away from the wall.
“At least you had a prefect with you…Even if you were molesting him. Heaven knows the chaos you would have caused on your own or with our dearly departed Mr. Potter. Very well, I’m feeling generous, you will escape another detention. However, it is after midnight and I suggest you both retire to Gryffindor Towers for the night or else I will be forced to take points from my own House. And you know how I do hate to do that.”
“What a good idea, Professor. I was just about to suggest that myself.” Sirius fluttered his eyelashes and smiled lewdly.
“We’re leaving now Professor.” Remus said, grabbing Sirius’s wrist and dragging him backward.
“Good night sweet Princess of Gryffindor!” Sirius cried as he was dragged around the nearest corner.
“Frolicking mistletoe – Circe help me,” Minerva McGonagall muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose and left to pour herself a nice big drink. Around the corner, Sirius had yet again pressed Remus against the wall and murmured into Remus’s ear:.
“I think she likes me.”
“I think she’s ready to commit you. I can’t believe we got away with that.”
“You underestimate my pulling power, Moony.”
“Oh, I don’t think I do,” Remus said, thrusting against Sirius’s hip and drawing a moan. “The Tower?”
“…Last one there gets tied to the bed!” Sirius cried and ran for the Tower as if his life depended upon it with Remus trailing happily behind.
For: The wonderful Trowicia (a fantastic artist and don’t let her say any different!) – my fandom Wolfstar twin who thinks the same way I do and who I hope to know for a long, long time.
Prompt: Remus/Sirius humour, any era
Word Count: 2, 079
Pairings: Look about – R/S all the way!
Warnings: The language! (Sirius Black has a filthy mouth – So does Remus!) Drunkenness and molesting prefects against a wall. Also, there is a lot of talk about nipples.
Comments: This is the very first one finished and the first person I wrote wall ravishing and licking explicitly for. The lucky girl!
Feedback: would be most excellent.
“Yoooooooou are DRUNK!”
“So sayeth the Gryffindor talking to my nipples and spilling Firewhiskey over my trousers.”
The first voice, slurred and blissfully, gloriously drunk, belonged to Sirius and the second voice, drier and notably less slurred, was Remus’s. It had been a boring night, late in December – both James and Peter were at home for the holidays where Remus thought he would have been. Unfortunately Remus’s parents had sent him a late owl the day before term ended, announcing that Aunt Margot had wanted to have Christmas at her house in the middle of the cold, abandoned moors of Devon. Remus opted out of the torture known hilariously as ‘family get-togethers’ and Aunt Margot’s ‘innocent’ pinching of his backside and elected to stay in Hogwarts with Sirius and to accompany Sirius this particular night to The Three Broomsticks for a Christmas drinking session.
Sirius, on the other hand, didn’t get the opportunity to leave Hogwarts but that matter was wholly too depressing to talk about and not in keeping with the Christmas spirit, so the less said about it, the better. In fact, Sirius had an announcement to make:
“NIPPLES!” Sirius announced loudly, spilling yet more Firewhiskey over the much-abused trousers of poor Remus J. Lupin who had only wanted to get back to Gryffindor Towers in order to throw Sirius into bed and read. Just thinking about reading, his one true love, Remus’s eyes misted over and he heaved a great mournful sigh worthy of great literature.
“You’re thinking about READING, Moooohoony! And at Christmas! What sort of Gryffindor are you, mate? ” Sirius huffed into the other’s ear.
“…How did you know that?”
“That great mournful sigh. The one that sounded like a cow was dying after being run over by one of the traction-thingies.”
“…Fuck you Padfoot.”
“Always knew you wanted into my unmentionables.”
“It’s just a pity you don’t keep them unseenables… Oh sweet Merlin’s bollocks, you just caused me to use a word that doesn’t exist Pads. Not on!”
“I feel a great source of warm, tingly pride at that. And also I feel, I feel… – a great wave of nausea – fuck, get out of the way Moony.”
Moony did not get out of the way, but did step aside and held Sirius’s hair back as the lad threw up what must have been most of Honeydukes stock and at least 2 weeks worth of pre-Christmas dinner and turkey sandwiches. And then threw up even more. Remus sighed again, and began rubbing Sirius’s back in what he intended to be a reassuring gesture. Instead it just produced more vomiting – not quite the desired intention.
“I will never eat turkey, cranberries or carrots again.”
“Ughhhhhhhhh,” came the answering gurgling response from Sirius who lurched forward as if to dive into the new colourful puddle at the corner of The Three Broomsticks. Luckily, Sirius had his Remus to grab him around the waist and spin him towards the road to Hogwarts. Remus found himself regretting saving Sirius from drowning in his own vomit.
“Feel seasick.”
“Good thing we’re on land then, isn’t it?” Remus laughed as one does when they are exasperated and tired and wanting their bed and swung an arm around his friend’s waist.
After several minutes of trying to leave Hogsmeade and picking a woozy-Sirius-shape from falling in the snow, there came another great announcement:
“I’m going to become a pirate! AND sail the SEAS OF SCHOTLAND!” As the volume of Sirius’ voice went up, so too did the number of frantic ‘sssshhhh!’ s from Remus.
“Scotland doesn’t have any seas. And you just told me you felt seasick.”
“NONSENSE MOONY! Black’s don’t get seasick.”
“Black’s generally don’t puke up outside The Three Broomsticks either, but you seem to be making an exception for all of these rules and more besides.”
“….You’re trying to confuse me with your brain. Not on, mate. You know I can’t defeat you in a battle of words.”
“Not when you’re this drunk.”
“….N’drunk.”
“So sober people call Scotland, ‘Schotland’ regularly, do they? And oh look! A bottle of Firewhiskey in your hand.” Sirius snorted, and waggled a finger in front of Remus’s nose.
“There’s no bottle of….oh wait, there is….HERE! Where’d all the Firewhiskey go?”
“On my trousers.”
“Moony, you sly fox, stop trying to entice me with your enticing dirty talk. You know my darling McGoogly-eyes will only get extremely jealous. And green – although she does wear a lot of green already. Maybe she’s constantly jealous of you…Now…Where’d my Firewhiskey go?”
“On my trousers. You spilled it when you told my nipples they were drunk.” Sirius thought on this statement for a long moment before announcing:
“NIPPLES!” Remus sighed again.
“We’ve been here before, I fear.” Sirius grinned, nuzzled into Remus’s hair and asked, as if he were inquiring about the weather:
“Are your nipples drunk Remus, old chum?”
“No, but I think you are,” came the response as certain parts of Remus’s body reacted to having a hot Sirius Black pressed against the length of it. His brain cried out in utterly repressed British horror and became thinking about things such as toenails and Potions and very, VERY cold showers.
“….Am I your nipples?”
“……I don’t have an answer to thAT! OW!! What was that for?! You utter sodding wanker – not on!”
Sirius looked besotted pleased with himself and decided to share his good mood with Remus by giving him the biggest grin he could muster. Unfortunately, Remus and his now-very-sore-nipple were not as happy.
“I wanted your nipple.” Sirius explained, with the definite, matter-of-fact air only a drunken man can possess.
“Well I now want your head on a pike but we all want things we can’t have.” Remus snorted. Sirius fell strangely quiet and if he hadn’t kept walking up towards Hogwarts, Remus would have assumed he was asleep. However, he knew what stage of the well-documented ‘Padfoot drinking moods’ he was entering now – the childish, surly stage. Remus shivered suddenly against a cold chill no one else felt and continued their trek back towards the school.
Despite the fact he was talking utter crap and couldn’t quite remember what happened to all his Firewhiskey, Sirius wasn’t drunk…OK, maybe he was but he wasn’t drunk enough that he didn’t know what was going on around him but
“Hey, when’d we get to Hogwarts?”
…OK, he amended mentally, maybe he wasn’t quite aware about what was going on but he knew he was with Moony so therefore he was safe. And Moony smelt really nice. Like mulled wine and dusty books and night and ink. He didn’t know a person could smell like night but he did. It was nice. Reassuring, like.
“…Pads?”
“Hm?”
“Are you smelling my hair?”
“Crazy, Moony. Absolute tosh……OK, maybe I am. Just a little bit… You smell nice?”
“….I feel we’re crossing the normal boundaries of friendship here.”
“Phfh, no we’re not. James and I do tons of stuff like this and we’re still mates.”
“But you and James are….well, you and James.”
“Well spotted Moony! Ten points to Gryffindor!”
“…Wanker.”
“Tosser.”
“Bastard.”
“Twat.”
“Miscreant.”
“Shirt-lifter.”
There was another silence, brought about by Remus. They walked through the entrance Hall and up towards Gryffindor Tower. Sirius wondered what he had said wrong but he couldn’t quite remember but Moony hadn’t removed his arm from his waist, so he wasn’t that angry.
“I’m not gay.”
“Huh?”
“I’m not gay Padfoot.”
“Hahahaha, bollocks my dear Moonshine. You’re as gay as a giant shiny spangly rainbow with neon
letters.”
“Your analogies make my brain cry.”
“Thank you, I do try.”
“You are very trying.”
“You wound me Moony, right here.”
“…In your knee?”
“Shit. I’m meant to be pointing at my heart…I think my hand is dead.”
“Tragic.”
“Well, bollocks to you too.”
“….I’m not though.”
That was it. Sirius wouldn’t quite remember what it was about those three words that made him snap but they did and Remus found himself pinned against the nearest stonewall.
“Pads – what – ?”
“Shut up. You are an idiot.”
There were many responses – each more ornate and witty and clever as the last – but Remus never got the opportunity to say any of them because Sirius pressed his body flush against Remus’s own and whispered against his cheek:
“Time only knows the price we have to pay; if I could tell you I would let you know.”
“Th-that’s Auden.”
“Should have know my Moony would know his poetry,” Sirius muttered, dragging his tongue up the length of Remus’s neck. He’d never done this with another boy – James and the previous summer didn’t really count – but he knew he was doing something right when Remus moaned – a sound that went straight to his cock.
“Fuck, fuck Pads – what are you doing?”
“Proving you’re not gay,” was the response that rumbled through his skin as the tongue licked at the hollow of his neck and turned his knees to rubber bands. The hands pinning his arms to the wall slipped away to slide up his shirt and trail a burning path up and down his chest. Remus leant further into the touch, writhing at every ghosting fingertip over sensitive skin and, slightly hesitantly, swirled his tongue along the shell of Sirius’s ear.
“Sweet Merlin’s wrinkly bollocks, do that again.”
Remus leant in again and licked again, feeling Sirius groan and thrust against him – drawing a needy moan from his own throat as he felt Sirius hard against his hip. Gentle thrusting – shifting slightly to accommodate one another and starting to build a rhythm that was growing more frantic and tongues against flesh and hitching breaths and needy moans shared when
“WHAT do you think you’re DOING to that prefect, Mr. Black?”
Remus leapt back as if struck by a bolt of lightning only to smack his head against the wall and slump, slightly dazed, into Sirius arms, which were entangled in his shirt.
“Mistletoe, my darling Professor,” Sirius lied with his usual grace, “and, as you weren’t around and my dear Mr. Lupin had prevented me from drowning just outside The Three Broomsticks so I decided to spread the Christmas cheer. So to speak.”
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow and cast a quick glance above their heads.
“And just where is this mistletoe?”
“You know Hogwarts at Christmas – mistletoe frolics from corridor to corridor like nobody’s business.”
“Nobody’s business…Mr. Black, do you ever listen to yourself?”
“I try not to Professor, it only spoils the illusion. I have Remus here to proof-read all my conversations…except for those particularly illicit ones I profess only to you, my love.”
“I feel a detention coming your way Mr. Black.”
“Professor,” Remus said, speaking up for the first time from his place against the wall and trying desperately not to discover any further shades of crimson, “Sirius has had a bit to drink – please excuse him.” Remus coupled the last few words with a well-aimed elbow to the ribs, which also allowed him space to move away from the wall.
“At least you had a prefect with you…Even if you were molesting him. Heaven knows the chaos you would have caused on your own or with our dearly departed Mr. Potter. Very well, I’m feeling generous, you will escape another detention. However, it is after midnight and I suggest you both retire to Gryffindor Towers for the night or else I will be forced to take points from my own House. And you know how I do hate to do that.”
“What a good idea, Professor. I was just about to suggest that myself.” Sirius fluttered his eyelashes and smiled lewdly.
“We’re leaving now Professor.” Remus said, grabbing Sirius’s wrist and dragging him backward.
“Good night sweet Princess of Gryffindor!” Sirius cried as he was dragged around the nearest corner.
“Frolicking mistletoe – Circe help me,” Minerva McGonagall muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose and left to pour herself a nice big drink. Around the corner, Sirius had yet again pressed Remus against the wall and murmured into Remus’s ear:.
“I think she likes me.”
“I think she’s ready to commit you. I can’t believe we got away with that.”
“You underestimate my pulling power, Moony.”
“Oh, I don’t think I do,” Remus said, thrusting against Sirius’s hip and drawing a moan. “The Tower?”
“…Last one there gets tied to the bed!” Sirius cried and ran for the Tower as if his life depended upon it with Remus trailing happily behind.
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no subject
Date: 2005-08-10 06:53 pm (UTC)I LOVE IT. I LOVE YOU. WHEE~!!
And McGonagall even made an appearance -- loved that!
Thank you SO~ much~!! TwT ♥ x a million!!
no subject
Date: 2005-08-10 07:57 pm (UTC)Oh maaaaaaan. This is greatness, here.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-11 01:00 am (UTC)o you ever listen to yourself?”
“I try not to, it only spoils the illusion.
DAMMIT! I JUST heard/read this exchange recently, but I can't remember where....Now it drivesss ussss crazy.....
no subject
Date: 2005-08-11 03:27 am (UTC)You are rockage to teh awesome =D
no subject
Date: 2005-08-11 11:30 am (UTC)*loves*
drunk sirius! *purrrrrfect*!
and flirting with McGonagall *snorts* ~_^
yuminess all round! Great fic!