Warning: Depending on how literal you take James' teasing, there may be a hint of bestiality in this story. Consider yourself warned ;-)
Additional tags: Sexual humor, mild smut, kissing, light petting, friendship/love, canon divergence (AU)
Magical Touch
xxx
Sirius slings the carrying strap of his guitar case over his shoulder. "Well, I'm off, then," he says.
James, leaning against the door frame, watches unhappily. "We've barely seen the whole week. Can't your stupid band rehearse without you?" he grumbles. Sirius huffs a laugh.
"I'm the lead guitarist, Prongs, remember? Or maybe you don't," he adds with a grin. "Maybe I buggered your brains out."
James makes a face at him. He's being selfish, and he knows it. This upcoming gig is important to his friend, and so it should be important to him.
The fledgling rock star before him grabs a handful of Floo powder with one hand while giving him the V sign with the other. "See you," he calls over his shoulder, and makes to fling the powder into the fireplace.
"Sirius."
James has pushed off the door frame and crossed the room before he even knows it. He grabs his friend around the waist and draws Sirius back against him, sticking his nose into the flood of dark hair and inhaling deeply. "Stay," he murmurs. "Please."
Sirius staggers for a moment and has to grab James' arm for support, but he leans back into the embrace and hums in pleasure when James slips one hand underneath his jacket and shirt to stroke the warm skin he finds beneath. "No offense, mate," he says, "but I don't think any of us can get it up again any time soon."
"Don't care," James mutters, nosing Sirius' neck. "Just want to be with you. Please stay." He smiles when his friend tilts his head to give him better access, and ups the ante by brining his mouth and tongue into play.
The Floo powder evaporates in a rainbow-colored cloud as it's flung into the embers right before Sirius twists in James' arms and catches his friend's bottom lip between his teeth. James puts all his not inconsiderable persuasion skills into the kiss, and when Sirius finally slips the carrying strap from his shoulder, guitar clattering to the floor, and says "Oh, what the hell", his grin is so wide that both his cheeks hurt.
As they make their way back into the bedroom, Sirius' prediction about renewed erections proves true: After a morning of vigorous shagging, it's not going to happen for a while. Still, James feels his heart pound and his mouth go dry as he undoes Sirius' shirt buttons, and takes a ridiculous delight in his friend's quickened breath when Sirius does the same for him. They tumble down onto the bed together, both naked to the waist and Sirius with his boots still on, which for some reason James finds so damn sexy he wants to kiss him senseless.
Snuggling up against Sirius' back he flings his glasses aside and buries his face in black hair as he lets his hands wander - not to excite, but simply because it feels so good to run his fingers over all that warm, ink-decorated skin. Sirius sighs in pleasure and wraps an arm around James' neck, leaning back against him, and James basks in the prickling sensation of their stubbled cheeks rubbing together as he nibbles at his friend's earlobe.
Although he can't remember that Sirius was this unshaven when he got here. For reasons unknown to him, there's also a lot of hair in his mouth all of a sudden. He feels the unmistakable tingle of magic around them, Sirius is twisting and stretching in his arms, and when James raises his head, he looks into a pair of beady dog eyes.
"Oh, ha ha," he says dryly. "Hilarious, Pads, really. How about a new set of jokes for a change?"
Padfoot cocks his head, the very epitome of innocence, then he rolls around, presenting his throat and belly, and emits a pleading whine. James stares at him.
"That's a joke, right? You're messing with me 'cause I called your band stupid, is that it?"
The whining intensifies in volume as well as in urgency.
"I don't believe this," James says, struggling to keep the grin off his face. "Here I am, ready to offer my undying love on the altar of your gorgeous body, and you want me to scratch your belly."
Padfoot flops onto his front and covers his eyes with his front paws, whimpering in what sounds like physical pain. James can't help it any longer, he bursts out laughing.
"Okay, okay," he concedes. "Let's cuddle doggie-style."
He gets a wagging tail in the face for his trouble as his arms fill with happy dog, and he sinks his fingers deep into Padfoot's soft fur. This is actually quite nice, he realizes, the warm, pliant body in his arms, the familiar smell, the gentle yips of pleasure Padfoot gives whenever his fingers find a particularly sensitive spot.
"Doesn't matter anyway," he murmurs into one of the floppy black ears. "As soon as I can, I'm going to shag you silly again, no matter what form you're in."
The full-body shiver he receives in response is extremely satisfying.
*Fin*
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to Mrs Rowling. I make no money with this.