Written for the Daily Weird Prompt Competition, for the prompt Stripper!Sirius.

Enjoy.

637 words


Strip

Sirius Black was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and now he was scrounging for his daily bread. That was difficult for him, as much as he hated to admit it. His Uncle Alphard had left him a grand sum, that was true, but the majority of that had bought his London flat, and there was precious little of it left now.

But Sirius Black had something. He was no stranger to fawning looks of girls, giggling over his charm. He looked good, and he knew it. Years playing Quidditch had refined his muscles, and he was proud.

It had started as a joke amongst his friends, until James had drunkenly suggested he try it as a career. Now, stripping was his main source of income, and as he prepared for his next appointment, he couldn't help but smile. It had to be said, he got a lot out of it. Aside from the cash in his back pocket, the ego boost could not be compared to anything, and occasionally, one of the girls would ask him to stick around. Sirius Black was not the kind of man to say no.

Tonight, they wanted a Quidditch star for a birthday party, so Sirius picked out his favourite Warbeck record and the modified robes of his favourite team, the Montrose Magpies. He made sure he was showered and shaved before checking the time. He was expected at the address in ten minutes time, by Floo, and he checked he had the address correct before pinning a note to the fridge in case anyone should call by.

It was a small house in Godric's Hollow, and something about the address felt familiar, but he let it slide. He'd probably just performed there before, after all.

Arriving in the living room, he was greeted by screams and cheers of a dozen drunk women and one or two men - he guessed they were probably boyfriends - and he let his eyes scour the room. He took in the family-orientated room, guessing the parents were probably away, and the short skirts. In the middle of the room, his gaze fell on the birthday girl and his heart initially sank. Staring at him, aghast, sat Marlene McKinnon.

"What the fuck?" she asked, glancing at Mary MacDonald, sat at her right. Sirius just smirked. Now this was a woman he could please.

They had history together, sure, in a dark broom closet at their old school, but Sirius' memory didn't fail him, and he knew it was a history he wouldn't mind revisiting. He was sure he could still feel her nails clawing at his back.

Turning on the music, he began his routine, ignoring her question as his eyes never strayed from hers.

The screams and comments from the girls were background noise, disappearing into a haze, as Marlene's shock faded into something more playful. A smirk graced her features as she allowed her eyes to watch him, eyeing his body, analysing his every move. He felt blood rush south, and the stark realisation hit him that when he revealed all, he might be sporting an erection. Usually, the dance was fun and lighthearted, but something about Marlene's gaze was intoxicating and sensual. He drank it in unabashedly, realising that he didn't care. The story would get out anyway - he might as well make it one worth telling.

When it was all over, and he was naked in the middle of the room, he began to gather his things.

"Sorry to duck out, ladies, but I must be on my way," he told them, glancing around the excitement in the room.

"Stay." Marlene's eyes were fixed on him as the giggles faded. Pulling his trousers back on, he smiled.

"Okay."

It seemed for him, the night was just beginning.