Alcohol
Moira
I blame it on the alcohol.
I blame it for burning me up inside, for making me realize pent up emotions I've harbored for too long.
I blame it for making me see things the way, which I don't normally see except maybe in dreams and nightmares.
I blame it for the feeling of burning want and lust, which I usually feel when I am beast.
Or maybe the alcohol isn't to be blamed entirely.
Maybe it was by the way we looked at each other during the party, the way I saw him giving me the occasional glance.
Or maybe it was in those moments when I would see him smiling or talking casually with Ron and Hermione. God, but it was about time he smiled again. After Sirius' death…no, mustn't think about that now. Mustn't think of Sirius or anything to do with the Marauders when right this moment I am slowly undressing Harry.
Sweet Harry.
After my fifth glass of Firewhiskey (was it my fifth or sixth?) and not anymore having much control over my emotions, I remember approaching him. I whispered to him words that I could have regretted, words that were trapped within for sometime now. It felt like the perfect time to tell him then as he stood alone so vulnerable. Discretely, I put my arm around his waist and held his body close to mine, letting him know and feel that I meant every word I said to him. I heard him gasp softly and then moaned in agreement. And by then I knew both of us were lost.
Sweet Harry.
Here now in an unused room at twelve Grimmauld, of all places, Harry is trembling. I can sense his fear. But I hold him close and caress his fear away. I tell him that I would not dare hurt him. I tell him that I'd be gentle because I love him. I realize that now. I love him. Harry. Innocent, sweet, Harry.
I lay him on the dusty bed and follow him down. I am now just on top of him and I kiss his bare neck slowly making my way downward and he whimpers, emitting such a sweet sound.
He grabs hold of my hair as I reach his boxers. I stop my ministrations and looked up at him. His eyes driven by such passion is enough for me to know that I could go on. I pulled them downward carefully; removing the only article of clothing left that offered any shield or barrier from me. I caressed his cheek to make him at ease. He was so beautiful lying there beneath me. I wanted to make this special for him. This is his moment…his day of celebration. Today he's sixteen. A young man now.
He was ready and open for me I can see it by his constant moans. My hand now on his cock, I held it firmly and stroked it memorizing every detail from top to bottom. I took him in my mouth and, so perfect. He tasted so wonderful as I slowly worked my way up and down. I could hear him now, speaking incoherently and breathing out my name as I continued memorizing and exploring this beautiful creature below me. As his body started to shudder and his hips started to buck up, I knew he was about to come any second now. And I let him come into my mouth and I savored his own essence as it came rushing down my mouth then throat. After, I let him taste himself as I gave him a long, deep kiss.
But I didn't want this to be over…not yet. There was still so much left for him to experience. I stroked his cheek and told him to be still. I then traced my fingers on his lips, prodding it to open. And as if knowing what I was doing, his left hand, which had been lying idly on his stomach lifted. He then grabbed my own fingers. Opening his mouth he gently sucked them. His eyes ablaze with something indescribable. He sucked my fingers almost expertly. He knew how to tease that was certain, as he did this so very slowly and as his tongue played on my fingers licking and nibbling. Before I could let myself get carried away, I ordered him to remove my fingers from his mouth.
I told him to spread his legs wider. Oh and he was so willing and obedient. I told him to trust me because what I was about to do will hurt. He just nodded his head simply. Oh, to act like a child again always accepting… He was hard again that much I could see. I wanted him to touch himself. I wanted him to experience pleasure as much as pain. I brought his hand to his cock and told him to stroke it. I froze for a moment. Just looking at him touching himself in front of me, his eyes closed and his mouth half-opened as he moaned out loud, was making my insides burn more with fire. I was in need and ready and I was aching to be inside him.
As he was touching himself, I then inserted a lubricated finger, wet from his own saliva, inside his opening and his eyes suddenly flew open.
I added a second finger searching for the right spot. Ah, there….I could see him now wriggling, his strokes moving more rapid, full of want and need.
"Remus," he begged and pleaded. I couldn't anymore deny Harry and myself of the thing, which would unify us. So I removed my fingers, wrapped his legs around my waist, and drove into him quickly. There was a gasp and I thought at first that I had hurt him. His face was full of sweat, his hand was moving rapidly on his cock, and a twisted expression was on his face. I pulled out slowly and drove in again. He felt so wonderful that I couldn't even begin to describe it. We developed our own rhythm, composed of cries, moans, and sweats. I let my hand move casually towards his cock and I stroked it along with him. It wouldn't last long; I knew that, until finally he cried out. And all I could do was to follow him as I felt myself exploding within him. We were complete now and whole. This thing we had wasn't just sex because the term sex had been degraded over the years into something cheap and low. No, I wouldn't call what we had just sex. I wouldn't dare call it that. And as I lay beside him on the bed, our breaths shallow and fast, I didn't think there was a moment in my life that was as happy as this moment.
And on second thought, I don't think I blame the alcohol anymore.
-fin-