d o g . i n . t h e . m a n g e r

Dog in the Manger
[by victoria p.]

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Sirius is looking for an orgasmic good time.

Notes: Thanks to Devil Doll for the beta. C'mon, it's me. You knew hookers would turn up sooner or later.

Date: November 15, 2004

They sat at the table, and Sirius wondered how it had come to this. It had seemed like such a brilliant plan at the time.

"It's Peter's eighteenth birthday on Saturday."

Remus looked up from his book. "Excuse me?"

"Peter's birthday is on Saturday. I think we should do something." Sirius leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. "We haven't seen him in a while."

"Since when do you care about Peter's birthday?"

"I don't, really, but James reminded me. And I have an idea."

"We go down to the Leaky Cauldron and get pissed?"

"You know what your problem is, Mr. Moony?"

"No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me."

"You lack imagination. You have no sense of scope or possibility."

"And you, Mr. Padfoot, have delusions of grandeur."

Sirius laughed. "Are they delusions if you back them up with results?"

Remus put the book down. "Touché. Though some of your results have been less than... spectacular."

"Trust me, this plan will have incredible results. Orgasmic, you might even say."

"Oh, might I?"

"Well, maybe not you, but Peter will."

"Sirius--"

"Morgana's. Saturday night. Wormtail finally gets laid." Remus opened his mouth, but Sirius held up a hand, not wanting to hear his objections. It was a good idea, and it was too damned long since they'd had any fun.

He stared down into his glass of firewhisky and tried not to growl at the woman who'd draped herself over Remus.

This was not, by any definition, fun.

"So you're training to be an Auror?" the girl on his own lap was saying, her lips painted a shocking shade of pink Sirius found extraordinarily unattractive.

"Yes."

"That must be very exciting." Those unfortunate pink lips were exceptionally close to his ear now, and with the music blaring in the background, he couldn't hear Remus's conversation.

"Yes."

Remus laughed and Sirius couldn't tell why. That woman had one hand on his thigh and with the other was pushing his fringe off his forehead; he wanted to yell at her to take her hands off his Moony. He took another gulp of firewhisky and wondered how much longer Peter would be.

The girl sitting on his lap -- Mona or Moira or something, Sirius couldn't remember and didn't care -- ran a hand down his chest while nibbling on his earlobe.

"Time for another drink," he said, pushing her off his lap and rising abruptly. "Remus?"

"I'm all right, thanks," Remus said with a smile. "Ladies? More champagne?"

They simpered and cooed, and Sirius thought he was going to be sick. "I'll be right back."

He stalked across the dance floor to the bog, then headed to the bar. He was waiting for his firewhisky and the two flutes of champagne when he felt Remus press in behind him.

"What's wrong, Sirius?"

"I thought you didn't like women." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but even to his ears it sounded like an accusation. He knocked back the glass of whisky and tapped the rim. The bartender refilled it quickly, for which he was thankful. He couldn't have this conversation sober.

"I like women just fine, to sit and talk to, which is what we've been doing all night." Remus leaned an elbow on the bar and cocked an eyebrow. "What I don't understand is why you're not off having a shag. I thought this was your plan for 'an orgasmic good time.'" Sirius winced at having his own words thrown back at him. "The blonde is quite keen on you. Even beyond getting paid for it. I can tell. And she's rather nice looking, if you like the type."

"Which you don't," Sirius said through gritted teeth.

"I don't, but you do."

Sirius shrugged. He didn't, actually. Maybe he had once; he honestly couldn't remember anymore.

"Don't want to leave you alone." With those harpies, he added mentally. The idea of Remus with one of those women bothered him in ways he wouldn't even admit in his own head, let alone articulate. And the thought of it made him so queasy his own desire was extinguished before it'd even had a chance to begin.

Remus frowned. "You knew when you suggested this that I'd be alone for a while. I agreed because Peter obviously wanted to, er, come, and you know the two of you can't manage things on your own -- you always end up yelling at him."

"Well, does he have to be such a bloody nuisance all the time?"

"He's not a tagalong tonight, Sirius. He's the guest of honor. And anyway, for once it's not Peter who's set your back up. So what have I done this time?"

Sirius opened his mouth, unsure of what, exactly, he was going to say. I don't like that those women find you attractive, seemed destined to cause trouble, as did, I can't have sex because I keep thinking about you, but that thought led to, I wish I could have sex with you and then there wouldn't be a problem, which culminated in Sirius taking another large gulp of whisky rather than saying anything at all.

He'd thought he'd got over these feelings years ago. He and James had talked about it once, decided it was normal to think you were in love with your best mate for a day or two, maybe wish he were a girl so you could shag him. He'd never admitted that in his fantasies, he'd never thought about James, and never wished Remus were anyone but Remus.

Then, in one angry moment just after Halloween in their sixth year, he'd almost ruined everyone's life. After that, his fantasies had become more mundane. He forgot about Remus kissing or touching him, and hoped for a smile, a word, a look that wasn't full of reproach and fear.

Time and Remus's own disinclination to fight mended their friendship, but the fear that he'd lost Remus, could lose him at any moment, lingered in the back of Sirius's mind. And this time, he worried the loss would be permanent, because it wouldn't be because of something he'd done, it'd just be someone else coming along and taking his place in Moony's life. Taking the place he'd wished was his, back when he believed in wishing.

"Padfoot?" Remus nudged him with a hip.

He ran a hand through his hair, opened his mouth to speak and--

"There you are."

"Mona," he said, eyeing her suspiciously. The one who'd draped herself over Remus earlier -- Francesca maybe? He hadn't paid attention. -- joined them as well.

"Moira," Remus whispered, but Sirius ignored him.

"You know, I'd love to show you some of the rooms upstairs," she said.

"Your brother loves the jungle room," Francesca said, and Sirius felt his stomach turn.

"Figures Regulus couldn't get laid without--" Remus's foot landed heavily on his and he snapped his mouth shut.

"What about you, Remus?" The two women ignored Sirius and his faux pas. Sirius held his breath.

"Ah, I'm not--" Remus began. "That is to say, you ladies are lovely, but not at all my type."

"Oh!" Moira said, and Sirius could see the light dawning in her eyes. Light, but not judgment, which was good, because Sirius didn't want any trouble. "The Wandwaver is right next door. They have the most beautiful young men--"

"No, thanks," Remus said easily, and Sirius had never been so grateful in his life for Moony's lack of funds. If imagining him with a woman was bad, imagining him with another man was a hundred times worse.

And yet, he found himself saying, "If you want to," and gesturing to his pocket meaningfully. His mouth, as usual, raced ahead of his brain.

Remus froze for a moment, and Sirius recognized a flash of hurt in his eyes before he smiled. He leaned in and whispered, "I don't need to pay to get laid, Sirius. I'm doing fine in that department all on my own." Sirius shivered at the warm breath caressing his ear.

And then Remus's words sank in. "You're getting laid? By whom?" he demanded, ignoring the way the women watched them.

Remus smiled enigmatically and Sirius felt like throttling him.

"You're a fucking liar, is what you are," he said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "But I am fucking... someone." He took the glass of whisky out of Sirius's lax grip, turned it halfway round and drank, mouth covering the spot from which Sirius had been drinking.

Sirius found it hard to swallow, breathe or think. His entire being was focused on Remus, and for the first time since he'd walked into Morgana's, his body responded, heat pooling low in his belly, breath running short.

"Prat," he said, voice sounding strange to his own ears. "Who is it?"

Remus took another sip of whisky, lips glistening in the dim light of the club, eyes dark and knowing. His smile was feral, sending another shock of electricity through Sirius's body. He couldn't breathe. Remus was so close, looking at him hungrily, smelling of firewhisky and the Ivory soap he insisted on buying in the Muggle grocery. Everything faded from consciousness except Remus.

"Why do you care so much?" Remus's voice was a low, intimate purr in his ear. He opened his mouth, but found himself unable to speak. Remus put a hand on his shoulder, then trailed long, elegant fingers down his chest and over the bulge in his trousers. "Wish it were you?"

Sirius licked his suddenly dry lips, breath catching at the way Remus's eyes followed the movement of his tongue. His mouth felt clumsy, swollen, as if Remus had already kissed him. Remus pushed closer, until there wasn't even space to slide a sickle between them.

"Remus." He could hear the whine in his tone, but didn't care. He'd beg if he had to.

"Sirius." A whisper of sound he felt more than heard. So close now, he could taste the whisky on Remus's breath, which caressed his skin.

Remus closed the slight distance between them, hands coming up to cup his face, lips moving gently over his. Sirius responded eagerly, opening his mouth to meet Remus's tongue with his own.

He leaned back against the bar, almost overwhelmed at the sensations coursing through him at the touch of Remus's hands and mouth. He tangled his fingers in Remus's hair, shivering in delight as the soft strands brushed against his skin. Remus shifted, pushing against him, and the combination of heat and friction, even through their clothes, was irresistible.

A hand -- not Remus's -- clamped down on his shoulder.

"We don't cater to you lot in here," the bartender said, pulling them apart. He turned away with a muttered, "Perverts."

Sirius was ready to climb over the bar to hit him, but Remus held him back. "It's not worth it," Remus said, lips warm against his ear, and then turned to the women, who smiled knowingly at them. "If Peter comes back before we do, you'll... entertain him until we return?" They nodded, and Remus turned back to Sirius. "Shall we?"

"Shall we what?" Sirius asked, body still humming from that kiss. Merlin.

"There's an alley out in back."

"Why--" he looked back at the bartender, who glowered at them. "Oh. Yes. Please."

Remus's hand on his back burned through the thin fabric of his shirt as he propelled Sirius to the back of the room and out a heavy black door that opened onto narrow, dirty alley.

Before he had a chance to protest that this wasn't exactly his idea of a romantic spot, Remus shoved him against the brick wall and kissed him, soft, wet lips and slick tongue licking at his mouth. Sirius gasped, which Remus took as an invitation to slip his tongue against Sirius's. Remus pressed against him, their erections brushing, and Sirius trembled with pleasurable anticipation.

Remus pulled Sirius's shirt from his trousers to slide warm hands up under the material, trailing fire along his skin. Sirius groaned at the contact and reached out to return the favor, enjoying the feel of Remus's skin beneath the pads of his fingers.

He lost himself in the rush of sensation, and was startled by his whine when Remus pulled back, hands unbuckling his belt.

"Have you ever done this before?" Remus asked, easing down the zip and stroking Sirius's prick through the slit in his underwear.

It took him a moment to find breath to answer.

"I've had sex before."

"With a man?" Remus's hand moved firmly over his aching cock; Sirius thought he was going to melt.

"Once." But it wasn't you. It wasn't you, so it didn't matter.

Remus slid gracefully to his knees, hands pushing Sirius's trousers and y-fronts down over his hips. "James?"

Sirius wasn't sure because the light was dim, but there might have been a hint of jealousy in Remus's eyes.

"Merlin, no," he said. "James only ever lets girls touch his prick." He sounded breathless, needy.

"Ah." A warm exhalation over the head of his cock. Sirius groaned.

"Moony, please."

Remus laughed and darted out his tongue to lick at the moisture glistening on Sirius's cock. He closed his eyes and smiled a familiar smile. Sirius recognized it -- it was the same look of pleased concentration Remus wore at the first bite of chocolate after days without, or when he'd figured out a complex Arithmancy problem without help.

The difference now was that Sirius was causing it, which sent another rush of heat through his body, to know he could have such an effect on Remus, the way Remus had such an effect on him.

And then he was done with thinking, because Remus had taken him in his mouth, soft lips and clever tongue, wet and warm and--

"Oh, God. Remus." He let his head fall back against the brick wall, gasping for air. Remus laughed around him; the vibrations sent another shock through his body, and he moaned.

Remus moved slowly, dragging his lips along the length of Sirius's cock, licking at the vein pulsing on the underside, one hand cupping his balls and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure.

Sirius couldn't help but thrust into the wet warmth of Remus's mouth as Remus increased the suction, his cheeks hollowing out.

"Look at me," Sirius demanded roughly, pulling Remus's hair. Remus's eyes opened, gazed up at him through dark brown lashes and the too-long fringe falling over his forehead, the heat of a million suns in those eyes, and in the greedy sucking of his mouth. Sirius tried to warn him, really he did, but he couldn't stop it; the orgasm rolled through him like an oncoming freight train, hips straining against Remus's hands as he spilled himself over and over down Remus's throat.

Remus swallowed it all and licked his lips when he was done, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself. He rose easily, mouth covering Sirius's in a long, lazy kiss that Sirius wanted to last forever, loving the taste of himself on Remus's tongue.

Sirius leaned his head on Remus's shoulder as Remus cleaned him up and tucked him in, his whole body weighed down with sated lethargy, the release of tension too long coiled in his muscles.

"Come on," Remus whispered in his ear. "We have to go back in and get Peter."

"Mmm, Moony, do we have to?" Sirius wanted to stay pressed against Remus for as long as possible, maybe fall asleep curled up around him, the way he used to as Padfoot.

"We most certainly do." He kissed Sirius again, hard and quick, and rolled his hips, so Sirius could feel his erection. "The faster we do that, the faster we can go back to your flat so I can fuck you."

Sirius, and his cock, perked up at that. "Why don't I go home and get ready, while you manage Peter?"

Remus shook his head. "Do you think I want to miss the show? If you're not going to let me prepare you, I at least want to watch you prepare yourself."

Sirius swallowed hard, not sure which scenario turned him on more. "God, Remus. You are a pervy bugger."

Remus's smile was mischievous, his voice low and hot. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet."

Sirius decided he liked the way it felt when Remus laughed against his neck. He decided he liked everything about Remus, and he liked it even more when Remus was pressed up against him.

"Is that a promise?"

"Do you want it to be?"

In answer, Sirius pulled him close for another heated kiss.

"All right, let's go back in," he said when they were done, "but if Wormtail's not done yet, I swear on Merlin's wrinkly balls that we're leaving him."

"It's a deal."

As Sirius pushed his way back into the brothel, he thought it really had been an orgasmic good time, after all.

end

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