Disclaimer: Not mine, all the beautiful and talented J.K. Rowling's. Hmm? What's that? Flattery will get me nothing? Well, damn. Time to baking a giant-ass cake, biatches.
A/N: Okay, so don't torch me for uploading an update for a fic that was supposed to be a one shot, when I'm supposed to writing Leopard Print, Guide to Seduction and keeping my promise by continuing Tattoo Tissue, but I've had major writer's block and I was listing to the Arctic Monkeys' Do I Wanna Know and this just came to me. Do not fret, though, my readers, I am currently finishing a chapter for Leopard Print Thongs :) Enjoy!
Hands grabbed at his robes, tugging at them insistently. Remus laughed, the low, mocking sound aimed at the other boy. Aimed to hurt. Aimed to be cruel. The other boy heard the laugh, but continued to lift the robes over Remus' head, ripping his shirt open. Buttons popped and tore from the thin white material, hitting the floor with surprisingly loud clatters. The ruined shirt was pushed open, revealing a scarred and lithely muscled torso. The other boy, some sixth year Ravenclaw, ran his hand over the scars, some still puckered and others smoothed by the flow of time. The hands, slim and long, smoothed back up and over Remus' shoulders and down his shirt-clad arms to his hands, larger and rough.
Remus tore his hands from the boy's grasp, denying the romantic intimacy he obviously sort for. The Ravenclaw swallowed, his face a sudden mixture of fleeting emotions, some of which made Remus shiver with the intensity of the want displayed in those lowered blue eyes. The control he had over this younger boy – over a Ravenclaw, of all things – sent a thrill through him, flooding below his navel. Control was something he had never been allowed to have when he had been with him. The boy felt his response and lowered himself to his knees, his eyes never leaving Remus', as if asking for his permission. Remus made no answer, but simply folded his arms and leant back against the shelves of the cupboard, watching as the boy clumsily lowered the zip on his trousers and reached inside his boxers. Remus' breath didn't even hitch when he both watched and felt the Ravenclaw's warm, wet mouth close around him.
It was nice enough, of course, been given a blowjob in a broom cupboard. But it was never enough unless it was him, unless it was hot and hard and heavy, filled with a delicious lust and desire, swimming with passion and emotion. Remus closed his eyes, willing himself not to think about him. Not about him. Never again.
That train of thought, however, was broken off when the boy pulled back with a wet pop and looked up at him with wide eyes. "I think there's someone outside." He whispered anxiously. Remus looked down the boy with something akin to distaste in his gaze and was unable to do anything to keep it from translating to kid on his knees before him.
"They won't come in." Remus said, hearing his voice coming out too flat and emotionless, "Touch yourself, hurry it up."
The boy looked momentarily disappointed that Remus wouldn't be returning the favour, but went back to his task eagerly enough, his other hand able to easily access his trousers and free his own arousal, his robes already in a crumpled head on the floor. Remus watched him with a slight curl of his upper lip, wondering with a hint of disgust if that was how pathetic he had been with him. Willing and ready to do anything. The thought made Remus start to go soft. He groaned in disbelief, leaning his head back; he didn't want to leave without getting what he had come for, but there was no helping it if the boy didn't arouse him enough.
"Leave it alone!"
Remus picked his head back up, werewolf senses pricked and listening. The Ravenclaw had heard anything, too caught up in his own world down on the floor, but Remus had heard each word as though the speaker was right beside him. The voice was, unmistakably, James'. Standing right outside the broom cupboard. Another voice, one that sparked so many conflicting emotions in him, muffled and hoarse. Remus rolled his head back again, groaning with an entirely different meaning this time, picturing him outside, trying to fling the door open, James trying to stop him. His arms uncrossed themselves, letting his hands knot in the boy's short blonde hair. The Ravenclaw sensed the change in Remus' mood, felt it between his lips, and moaned, the vibrations humming through the werewolf as he listened to the struggle outside.
Suddenly, light flood across Remus' closed eyelids as the Ravenclaw cried out around him and shuddered, spilling onto the floor. Remus pulled on the boy's hair roughly, forcing himself down his throat, his head rolling forwards. His eyes cracked open lazily as he came silently, filling the boy's mouth and hearing him choke and splutter as he looked up at him from under hooded lids. A sadistic smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth as his pulled out of the boy's mouth and tucked himself back in his trousers, amber eyes never leaving grey.
"Re- Remus." Sirius whispered, his breath hitching on the werewolf's name. Remus bent to retrieve his robes and fold them over his arm methodically, half-heartedly tugging his torn shirt together. He glanced around distractedly and looked at the boy, who was still on the floor, looking both terrified and ridiculous at being caught with one half of Hogwart's newest couples by the other half.
"My tie." Remus said to the boy impatiently, "Where is it?"
The boy glanced around hurriedly and retrieved the tie, passing it up to Remus. The werewolf considered the Ravenclaw for a second, before reaching down to wipe the corner of his mouth with his thumb. A low growl came from the general direction of Sirius as Remus pushed by him into the low light of the corridor. It was past curfew and he needed to be back in the tower. He ignored the pale and worried expression on James' face and strolled towards the staircase as though he hadn't a care in the world. No one saw the façade crack as he turned the corner at the top of the staircase and the sounds of pained cries – so different from pleasured moans earlier – echoed from two very different boys below in two very different ways, the third boy attempting and failing to mediate an understanding between them.
Shouts of pain from the Ravenclaw echoed through the corridors as Sirius took his frustration out on the unfortunate pawn, whilst Remus slumped down the wall, bringing his knees up to his chin and hugging his robes to him as he sobbed, the dangerous mixture of arousal and anger having dissipated along with his orgasm. Footsteps approached to the background noise of Sirius' fists pounding at the Ravenclaw and the boy's cries.
"Why are you doing this to each other?" James asked with a sad sigh as he sat down next to Remus. The werewolf rubbed at his eyes roughly, frustrated at showing weakness to the person who would tell Sirius about his tears at the next available opportunity.
"I warned him, Prongs." Remus answered, his voice a hoarse croak. His cleared his throat and looked sideways at James, hoping to convey that even though he was hurting, he didn't regret giving Sirius a sample of the pain he was experiencing, "I told him that if he treated me like treats all of those girls, that I'd leave him."
"You've done more than that."
"You expect me to lie down and take his shit?" Remus spat, making to stand up, "You think I should just turn a blind eye as he fucks his way through the population of the school and pretend it's not happening like the obedient little boyfriend I am?"
James sighed and pulled Remus back down, putting a comforting arm around him, "Of course not. I just meant…Merlin, I don't know, Moony. I'm caught in between my two best friends here, having to watch you both tear the other apart. What am I supposed to say?"
Remus leaned into James, tears escaping once again and dripping from his chin. "Say that it'll be okay." He begged, a sob cracking through the last word, "Tell me that I'll stop loving him….that…that it'll stop hurting when he walks all over me like I don't mean anything to him."
James didn't say anything, both of them aware that even if he did, none of it would be true, so he tightening his hold on his friend instead and pulled Remus' head onto his shoulder to let the other boy cry it all out like he should have done the night he had caught Sirius with a younger Gryffindor in his bed.
Meanwhile, Sirius was crouched over the Ravenclaw on the floor below, his head in his hands as he stared blankly at the blood started to dry on the kid's nose. He was alright, of course, just out cold. Sirius wasn't a killer. Although it felt like he could be when it came to Remus. Fucking Remus, fucking other blokes where he knew Sirius would find him, when he knew Sirus was in possession of the fucking map. If there was any time to prove to the petulant werewolf that he was sorry, it was now. Before he lost him for good.
