Title: Forbidden Fruit
Author: remuslives23
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: Sirius/Harry
Word Count: 766
Summary: forbidden fruit: something that someone may want but is forbidden to have.
Notes/Warnings: Sexual situations. All characters are of age. Switching tense. Written for katelinmr for being all round awesome and donating to Red Cross for their Haiti appeal. This is the last of my help_haiti fics.
Disclaimer: This fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and affiliates. No money is being made and no offense is intended. Characters are of legal age for sexual situations.
He should have left the room. He should have made it clear from the first heated glance that he wasn't interested, that it was wrong (Gods, so wrong in so many ways). But he fooled himself into believing that he was imagining the dark want stirring in those green (just like his mother's) eyes, that the hastened rise and fall of that broadening chest was just a trick of the firelight.
He should have left the room.
*
His lips are red and swollen – gods, he tastes so good, so young, so innocent. Tongues stroking – he's so eager; fucking me with his tongue as his fingers twist and tug at my hair. I whisper, 'We can't' while my hands are frantically dragging him closer until I can feel him rolling his hips against mine – and it hasn't been like this (hungryhothard) for so long...
*
He tried to tell himself that the lingering touch to his shoulder, the hand that trailed half-way down his back before reluctantly pulling away was innocent. Tried to justify his own hand on the curve at the bottom of that arched spine as benign and paternal, even as heat seared through him at the contact.
*
His shirt falls carelessly to the floor and he's tugging the ends of mine from my trousers. My hands are on his skin – reveling in the surprisingly toned muscles of his chest while my lips are biting at his neck. Light stubble scratches my mouth and for a moment, I can forget how young he is, how wrong this is.
*
He can feel their thighs pressing together – they are sitting so close not a whisper of air could pass between them. He's trying to explain the wand movement he was asking about, trying to be so good when all he wants to do is shove that young, hard body down onto the settee and bury himself inside that tight heat. His cock is filling; soon his arousal will be noticeable. Soon, it will be so obvious what he wants and he's terrified that the feeling will be reciprocated because how could he be expected to do the right thing then?
*
His nipple tightens as I drag my tongue over it and he gasps, sinking his fingers into my hair. I can feel his other hand fumbling at my belt, the groan he releases when his fingers dance over my erection sends a shiver along my spine. I arch up into the touch, moaning when he draws down my zipper and relieves the unbearable ache. Then I'm reaching for his jeans, claiming his lips again in an urgent kiss as I reach in and touch the velvet-soft skin for the first time.
*
He clears his throat and shifts in his seat, trying to edge away from the press of his body. But it's not that easy; a hand falls onto his knee, thumb rubbing tiny circles on the inside. He shudders and tries to pull away, but fingers tighten around his leg and he's looking into those eyes as their faces inch towards each other and
he
can't
breathe...
*
His cock leaks all over my hand as I fist him with fast, erratic strokes. He's breathing into my mouth – short, sharp pants – while I bite down on his neck, fucking into the tight ring of his fingers. Our skin slides together, slicked with sweat as we push each other closer and closer to a place we should never have gone but that was inevitable.
*
He ran his hand over the short, dark hair (God, he aches when he remembers the last time he saw hair this exact colour and texture), rubs a thumb over the jagged scar etched into the brow. Heart pounding, he tried to resist the allure of something so forbidden, but fighting it only makes him want it more.
'This can't happen,' he whispers, trying one last time to push this away. 'I'm sorry...'
But then those lips were on his, and all his resolve dissolved in a split second.
*
His hand tightens on my cock as I gasp out his name, voice low and raspy, and the world turns white as thick ropes of my come spill over his fingers. I collapse on him, watching his face as he reaches his own end. Fuck, he's gorgeous as he writhes and bucks under me, and I muffle his harsh cry of completion as I kiss that beautifully swollen mouth, swallow my own name as it leaves his lips...
'Sirius!'
fin.