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One could not be jealous while pining for Sirius. Everyone wanted a piece of him, and for most parts, everyone got it. With girls it was mostly flirty kisses and a wink, enough to make their hearts flutter and make them dream of wedding bells, even when Remus knew one thing for sure: Sirius would never marry, especially not a girl.
With the boys it was different. Sirius seemed so desperate with them, for them – and while one couldn't be jealous, one could very much be angry. At least if one was Remus John Lupin. Why did Sirius always take the worst of the worst? Why did he let them treat him like garbage? Why did he go back, when more often than not he was crying himself to sleep after?
Remus had no answers to that question and he couldn't even talk with James about it, for James... there was no saying how he would react, when he found out that Rosier and Bulstrode both had fucked with Sirius, and left him devastated. It would be fine, if he blamed them – there was no love lost between James and the Slytherins. But what if he blamed Sirius? He was bad already, for whatever reason.
After the next event, Flint this time around, Sirius looked even worse, with a big bruise on his cheekbone that he quickly disillusioned when Remus entered the room. He wasn't fast enough, and deep in Remus' stomach rightful anger roiled. He couldn't, no, he wouldn't let it go on for any longer. If he couldn't touch Sirius, how dare they? Why would he give them what Remus couldn't have (not that he had the courage to ask).
“Why do you let them do that?”
“Do what?” Sirius tried for his cold pure-blood drawl, the one he only used to hide deep and dark things.
“Touch you, use you, berate you?”
Sirius' stare was hard and unflinching, but for the first time his affection was strong enough to keep up, staring back, until Sirius' looked away. “It's what I am. What I deserve.”
“How can you say that?” Remus was outraged. Snape used to rant about how Sirius tried to kill him, tried to betray them both, but in the end, he had only gotten what he asked for – and all the Marauders stood attention to save him, just in case. Sirius couldn't kill, not truly, no matter how much he struggled with his inner darkness. In some ways he was more accomplished than James who stayed on the right side of things with ease, who had never heard the siren call, like he and Sirius had.
“It's true.” Sirius sighed. “I even...” He hesitated. His eyes lingered pensively, but he had never flinched from a challenge. Brutally truthful, once he came to trust. “I get off on it.”
“You cry!” Remus exclaimed with the same candour. “After.”
Sirius cheek ticked. “One can't get one without the other.”
But that couldn't stand. Not with Remus. “One can.” He breathed slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. “Will you let me show you?”
“Sh....ow me what?” All of a sudden Sirius was just as breathless.
“How it's done. How not to hurt you. How to...” Remus wasn't exactly knowledgeable himself, not really, but hell would he be, if only Sirius said yes. If there was one thing he was better at it was studying – finding information and ingraining it into his mind.
Sirius looked at him – long, hesitant. “It... it doesn't have to mean anything. Yeah?”
Remus' heart sank, but he still nodded. “It can, but it need not.”
Sirius licked his lips, and then nodded. “Now?”
“Not now. Weekend. Hogsmeade.”
“It's not a Hogsmeade weekend.” Sirius seemed about as fazed as him.
“Exactly.”
With a nod Sirius broke away. “Agreed.” He showed his nerves (and his hand) when he buried himself in homework right after. The only times when Sirius did his homework ahead of time was when his private life was even worse than usual.
----
It was Saturday, so they could sleep in, James and Peter were informed and Remus even went through the effort to gain a little bit of leniency from McGonagal, without exactly telling her why. Hogsmeade still was the best possible option, not only that he would avoid the feeling of throwing friends out of their own dorm, while in Hogwarts one always had to assume to be watched, even with their knowledge one could never know. Ghosts, paintings, house-elves, the options were countless, and Remus didn't want to take chances. Here in the small room in the boarding house, right next to the Broomsticks, none of that was important. It was just Sirius and him, and a really good privacy ward.
Remus still felt very nervous. He had done a good deal of reading, and it had been fascinating, but doing it was something else entirely, even when he felt confident, and in all honesty curious. During reading he had needed to stop more than once to calm his... his heart, probably his heart, and he had more than one good wank from the imagination alone. In other words he was pretty excited. But at the same time it felt outlandish and weirdly new, as if he had never seen Sirius naked, or as if it was his first time – neither of which was true.
But... even though he agreed that it wouldn't mean anything, a worrying amount of hope still bloomed in his heart. What if he could make Sirius feel so good that he would never want someone else again? What if he could make him fall in love? What if... To make matters worse, the positives were far outweighed by the fears. What if he screwed it all up, ended their friendship and scarred Sirius for life?
But sometimes one had to be the Gryffindor and follow through, even with a rabbiting heart and cold feet. Now when they entered the room, he could tell that Sirius was equally scared, equally hesitant, not despite but because acting so confident, so dismissive. He didn't do that to friends. But it was as good a first lever as any. Better even.
“Stop it, stop acting.”
Sirius flinched, visibly flinched and nodded, suddenly falling into subdued silence. “I... Sorry, Moons.”
It was promising; Remus could feel his excitement rise. “I want you naked, on your knees, on the rug there. You have two minutes, and treat your clothes with respect.”
Fascinating to watch how Sirius simply obeyed, didn't even try to talk back or make a joke or whatever he did with the teachers, unless he really wanted to do something and needed permission, not command. Within the realm of two minutes not only had he shrugged out of his robe and trousers and put them into a neatly folded pile next to him, he also had lost most of his fake-bravado. Kneeling like that he didn't look humble, he looked like another person entirely.
“Adequate,” Remus praised, not quite comfortable with the whole yet. He didn't exactly know how to go on from there, but at least it wasn't all bad, he could practically feel himself harden and his mouth water at this absolutely delicious sight.
For a moment he revelled in the moment, right until Sirius' eyes came up in unsure confusion of how to go on. It was time to show, time to be the man Sirius needed.
“Aren't you a little slut, begging for it with every fibre of your being?” The word felt strange in his mouth. He wasn't used to speak them, much less with such appreciation. He wouldn't call a Slytherin that, not even the bad ones, and now he very definitely called Sirius that. Sirius whom he would have praised and coddled, given the chance. “A whore willing to go down for anyone.”
It was terrible in its beauty, what it did to Sirius. All arrogance, all poise fled from his pose, making way for a different kind of grace, broken and settled. His face, his expression, his whole being made one think of trees constantly bowed by the wind and grown to withstand the force by leaning into it. Remus couldn't even remember to ever have seen him like that. So relaxed, if in an unsettling stillness.
“Tell me what you want, dirty little thing.” That felt wrong too, but in a different way. Few guys put such effort into personal hygiene like Sirius, and there was nothing, nothing little about him. He had almost an inch on Remus. Not when he kneeled of course.
“Your...” Sirius voice was so quiet that it was barely even a word, and it broke off before he finished. Remus understood anyway.
“My cock?” He scoffed. “You want my cock?” Everything in this situation was absurd, when they so clearly wanted the same thing. When he only had to close his eyes to practically feel what would happen. When he had to restrain himself not to let the mere thought drive him up the wall, but Sirius needed something, and Remus would give it.
He tried not to allow himself hope, again, but it was a small, yet feisty thing, growing in the most hostile places. He would do it so well, so well, Sirius would never want another. And if he couldn't he would at least make this last. Make it perfect for them both. “What makes you think you are even worthy? That I would let you put that mouth that probably has been... everywhere on my parts?”
Sirius' eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. “Please...”
Remus pretended to ponder him, when in reality he basked in the sight, so beautiful, so willing, so perfect for him. “If – and that's a big if at this point – I allow you to suck me off, no more than that, you'll keep your dirty hands of me. You'll put them behind your back and keep them clasped. I don't want to be soiled by whomever you touched last.”
Sirius' head sank in agreement.
“You'll close those slutty lips around him, keep the teeth away, and put that dirty tongue to better use than talking. Understood?”
Sirius nodded again, barely perceptible but with determination.
“Good. Now show me you can be a good boy after all, you can be taught.” He nudged Sirius' knees apart and commanded “wider”. They followed easily, allowing the spread to emphasize Sirius' hard, ruddy, painful looking erection. “Close your eyes.” They fell shut. “And keep them that.”
Sirius' breath deepened as he gave himself over completely, and while Remus contemplated what to do next he hated, hated, hated. Someone had seen Sirius like that and instead of savouring it, protecting it, seen it fit to hurt him, while he was at his weakest, most vulnerable. Someone had hurt him, and deeply.
Remus could never do that. He opened his fly and let his cock spring free with a noise that made Sirius almost jump, but soothed his shock with a gentle hand in his hair. “Good boy. If you got to be a little whore, you'll at least be mine now, right? You'll be good for me, you dirty little cocksucker.”
Sirius whined, as he felt Remus nudge against his lips and then parted them, doing exactly what he was supposed to do, and with such ease, such skill. “Cocksucker” surely was right, though Remus at this point found it more praiseworthy than abominable. It felt incredible, the soft warmth and wetness of his mouth, the push of his tongue and pull of his cheeks. The way he pushed himself into it, until the head hit the back of his throat. How he went on, even when gagging a little. He was so good, so perfect, asking for nothing than to be used, hot and aroused.
At some point his hands twitched, as if to touch himself, but it took no more than a cough from Remus to bring him back into pose. Still, it felt like another opportunity. “No...” he drawled, because speaking normally was impossible at this point, it felt too good for that. “Can't allow you to touch yourself... Not some dirty little fiend like you. Wouldn't do anything else, ever, if I allowed you. No self-constraint whatsoever.” It hit close to home, he could tell, The face went harder, the sucking more intent. A single tear slipped down Sirius' cheek. But he didn't stop, didn't try again, just did his damn best to get Remus off in the best way possible. It worked terribly effectively.
His hands found their way into Sirius' hair, his hips twitched, and before he fully realized he was doing it, he fucked Sirius' mouth as if it was the most normal thing in the world. In his grip Sirius felt like a puppet, a doll made to be used, but despite his difficulties to breathe and his clear discomfort he looked ever so willing, ever so relaxed. It barely lasted seconds anyway, before Remus lost track, couldn't hold back and spilled into his mouth, deep into the throat, and then, as he pulled out all over his perfect, plush, pouty lips.
Sudden almost obsessive jealousy hit him like a gut-punch. How many others had done that. How many had ignored Sirius' peril after? Had him let him bring himself off, or maybe even forbade it? He couldn't tell, wouldn't ask, or there might be murder. But he could damn well do a better job. With a single jerk and the strength of an enraged werewolf he pulled Sirius off the ground and threw him onto the bed, half bowing over him, half sitting on top. He couldn't move one bit if Remus didn't allow it. With sharp insistence he closed his hand around the still rock-hard cock and started to pump it, giving it his best, all he could think he would like himself. Sirius whined and whimpered, far, far beyond words, and that was intense too. Remus knew he couldn't bear the sight for long – such perfection wasn't for humans to have.
“Be good for me,” he asked. “Be good and come!”
With a wholly inhuman sound Sirius did, spilling over his hand and the bedsheets. It went on for longer than Remus had thought possible, and when it finally ended, Sirius fell back in deep exhaustion. “Thank you,” he whispered, and turned away, coiling into himself, ready for the breakdown he had learned was inevitable.
But Remus wouldn't have it. He hadn't studied the topic for nothing. Gently he slipped against Sirius, pulling him close and massaging his tense neck and shoulders. “So good for me, Sirius. So good. You did incredible. I'm so proud of you.” That felt good too, praising him, as he had berated him before. “You did all that I asked of you and more. So good.”
Tears still came, as he knew they might. Such experiences could devastate someone. But it wasn't the desperate crying of the nights, when Sirius closed the curtains around his bed, but was distraught enough to forget the silencing charm. It was gentle summer rain where those had been thunderstorms. It was salvations, where those had been destruction.
“I still cried,” he eventually managed, with the smallest of triumphs in his voice, and Remus couldn't help but chuckle.
“You did.” He ran his fingers over smooth skin gently and added. “But no new bruises I can see. And you don't look like shit either. Could use a little sleep, though.”
Sirius nodded and for a long time remained silent. So long in fact that Remus almost assumed he had fallen asleep. A blessing, probably. Eventually though, he took a deep breath and asked cautiously: “Hypothetically, what if – just in case – I would like to do that again?”
Remus' heart made another little jump. “Well, for starters, it would stop to not mean anything.”
Sirius gave a little chuckle. “I guess I can live with that.”