Chapter two: In the House of Jewels all is Too much of a Delicious Nightmare to Register
AN: 'The House of Jewels' is the name of the brothel Sirius and his brother go to—I just realise I hadn't said that earlier. I'm thinking about maybe changing the title, but I'm kinda okay with how it is right now, so yeah. The song is 'come one closer' by 'Jem'. Just a heads up, in case you wanna listen while reading. This chapter isn't rated M—but the next one will be, so, ye be warned!
The curtains slid open, and the circle of light focussed on a trapeze, lowering slowly down to a platform on the stage. Surrounding the platform, there were dancers—dressed in frilly skirts and holding girly umbrellas. They moved slowly to the music, but no one really paid attention to them. There was a boy standing on the trapeze swaying his ass in time with the soft beat. He had his back turned to them, and had a white shirt on, just reaching below the curve of his behind. Above the shirt he was wearing a black vest, and his stockings reached mid-thigh, the white lace almost touching the fabric of his white boxer-briefs. Above the stockings there were black-and-white tube socks, reaching halfway his leg and there was a black topper on his head. In his hand was a dark wooden cane, securely locked around the ropes of the trapeze—for safety as well as show.
Sirius had to admit that the boy was really pretty—he hadn't even seen his face yet, and already he was making a fine picture to watch. He recognised the music, and stared enthralled as the lithe body moved to it—a sharp swing of the hips every time the heavy beat reverberated through the old theatre. As soon as the boy put one foot to the floor of the platform everyone catcalled and whistled—the older man, Lee, went berserk, stomping his fist on the balustrade in encouragement.
The boy got off the trapeze—still moving rhythmically, and turned slowly, putting one foot on the first step down—and they could see the black tie around his neck. As soon as he gave his hat a little poke, revealing his face completely, Sirius went into cardiac arrest.
Remus Lupin was standing right there, looking absolutely delicious and perfect and drop-dead-gorgeous—never mind that Sirius wasn't supposed to think all that, it was besides the point. Remus was there, showing off the goods to the whole of Paris, shaking and being followed by that light with everyone's eyes on him, probably trying to burn the sight on their retina to use it for jerking off later and he was so... and... it had to be forbidden, but Sirius couldn't stop watching.
Come on closer, I wanna show you, what I'd like to do.
He stepped down, bending slightly through his knees as he shook his figure to the music, gesturing everyone over with a wriggle of his finger—the hand on his hip was such an overused move, but proved of excellent use as the whole room went quiet in awe, staring at the stage.
You sit back now, just relax now, I'll take care of you.
Walking down the steps, he turned his body slowly, teasing the spectators with little bits of skin being revealed as he continued his way—twirling the cane in his hands, seemingly trying to lure the watchers into doing rather indecent things, if the hip thrusts were any indication.
Hot temptations, sweet temptations, infiltrating through.
When he reached the stage, he used his cane as a dancing pole, slowly moving his hips against it before doing another turn.
Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you.
After that he discarded it—hundreds of hands reaching for the cane as he threw it into the crowd. Moving closer to the side of the stage, he dropped the black jacket down over his shoulders a bit, giving a wink.
Come take it slow babe, do it my way, keep your eyes on me.
Swaying his hips in a slow circle, he leisurely made his way to the pole—seemingly stranded on the right side of the stage—dropping through his knees he lay down on his back, arching his chest into the air, and men whistled loudly at the move when he outstretched his legs moving them as if he were ridding a bicycle.
Your reaction, to my actions, is what I want to see.
He rolled over to sit up on his knees, and tipped his hat to the side in a practiced move, giving them another wink as he rolled his hips. Roaming his hands over his body he raked his fingers over his thighs and undid the last button of his shirt first. Then he threw his tie off, biting his lip, twisting his face into a look pinned down to the finest perfection.
Leave me open, or emotions infiltrating through.
Getting up he bent forward to the audience, turning his body in a fluent move as he stepped sideways to the pole. His hands flitted under his shirt, revealing the white garters plastered to his skin and his white underwear—the crowd went wild.
Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you.
He bent his leg back in a girly gesture, and took the last step towards the pole, his hands above his head. Some guys up front tried to get his attention, demanding he took of his clothes, now, but he shushed them by pressing a finger to his lips, and bending forward again, pressing his ass against the metal pole in the most hotexcitingsexy gesture Sirius had ever witnessed.
He wriggled against it—more catcalls and screaming, and in reward he blew the audience a kiss—and then brought his back against it too, sliding down. Opening his legs obscenely he dropped his hat into his hands and quickly covered up, hiding his boxers and touching his exposed thighs. Moving up slowly he returned the hat to his head, and opened another button, shaking against the pole, as he eventually walked round it—now three buttons undone, and they could see some of the lace of his garters. He gracefully threw his leg around the pole, hugging it with his knee and the whole crowd cheered, showing off his inner thigh again. Swaying his hips in time with the tone of the music, he did a twirl around the pole, discarding his hat as he did.
And now you're satisfied, a twinkle in your eyes, go to sleep for ten,
With more thrusting against the pole he straightened up, and slowly swayed over to the centre of the stage—there were two dancers waiting there, dressed in black shorts and black tops with white ties—taking one of the background dancer's hand, he made a pirouette, and landed in the other boy's arms.
And anticipating, I will be waiting, for you to wake again.
He took the boy's tie in his hand, and they danced slowly together, before he turned to the other boy. Swaying their hips together one of the boys undid another button, while the other unclasped his garters, the white stockings slipping down a bit.
Hot temptations, sweet temptations, infiltrating through.
Pushing the boys away he twisted his body sensually, dancing to the music in tempting, deliberate movements, dropping through his knees and to the floor, thrusting his hips up in the air.
Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you.
He slowly rolled over and got up, one of the dancers offering a hand—he made a twirl and their bodies collided. Slowly he moved his hips against the other's, swaying out of the man's grasp, closer to his public.
Hot temptations, sweet temptations, infiltrating through.
One of the boys came to stand right behind him, settling his hands on his hips as he moved the lean body to the music, from side to side. The brunette trailed his own hand up to the boy's neck, imitating a passionate embrace.
Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you.
There was only one button left to undo to this shirt, and he linked his leg with the other man's, did a rather impressive turn around the man's body, and went back to the stairs, where he lowered himself onto the final steps.
Hot temptations, sweet temptations, infiltrating through.
Heaving his chest, he stiffened his legs, and bent one up—giving everyone a good look of his fair behind. His hand slid up his thigh to his foot, and one of the boys came over, taking his hand and pulling him away from the stairs and into his arms.
Sweet temptations, hot temptations, coming over you.
With the last tones dying away, the tallest boy thrusted his hips against the brunette's—his chest against the boy's back—pulling off the black vest. The other discarded the shirt under loud applause, and embraced him, a hand on the back of his thigh, the brunette's legs tangling with his own. As the middle boy winked at his public, the curtains closed.
It was the sound of Regulus' voice that shook Sirius back to the land of the living—having been staring at the covered-up stage for five minutes straight.
"...come, because your friend's the act?" He focussed on his brother, who looked just as shocked as Sirius was—though he seemed to think Sirius had known.
Then he coughed once, and made up his mind—he didn't want to think about this, because if he would start thinking about it, in a place like this, it could only end badly. He gestured to Regulus' drink, downing his own.
"Just finish your drink and let's get out of here," he hoped he wouldn't run into Remus—that was the last thing he wanted. He needed to find a secluded area, jerk off, and then think about all the things he'd discovered about his best friend, while suppressing the memory of how good the brunette had looked in nothing but flimsy garters and briefs.
Of course, luck was not on Sirius' side. Regulus had barely touched his drink, when Remus appeared, apparently heading over to the bar. He had redressed, now wearing a red skirt and matching garters, together with a shirt that exposed his chest. From the looks of it he had quite some admirers—bills were sticking out of his stockings and skirt, and he was even getting money pressed into his hands as he walked by—even though the idea of people touching Remus like that, skimming their fingers over his thighs as they gave him a happy slap on his ass, made Sirius sick, he just couldn't tear his eyes away from the brunette.
"Ruru!" Remus had just passed their table—not noticing anything was off—when Lee called for him, and the brunette turned, smiling brightly as the man caught his hand.
"Hey sweety," Remus flopped down in the broad lap, and Sirius tried his hardest not to notice how the man's hand landed on to the boy's silky thigh. He winked at the man across from Lee, and Lee stuffed some money down his garters.
"You working tonight Ruru?" The man purred, and Remus pouted cutely at him.
"Not tonight darling, just serving," he shifted slightly and grinned when the man gasped, "I'm sorry doll, you're gonna have to find someone else to take care of that."
"No way you can be persuaded?" Lee snapped some more bills between his thigh and the lace, giving him a meaningful look.
"I'll tell you what, if you behave tonight, I'll give you a little extra tomorrow," Sirius did his best to just ignore everything Remus was saying—because this was so not like him. The teasing tone, the inviting movements, the sensual touches, the come-and-get-me act. Not Remus. And Sirius was sure this really wasn't Remus. It just couldn't be. "How 'bout that?"
"Hmm," the man pushed Remus' thighs apart, settling him more comfortable in his lap. It took everything Sirius had not to start yelling when he saw the hand disappearing under the skirt, and Remus bit his lip, "what extra?"
"You can have me anywhere you want babe," Remus promised, and wriggled cautiously out of the man's grasp. When Lee caught his wrist again, he clacked his tongue, "now, now, that's only if you behave tonight."
"Anywhere?"
"Of course sweetheart," Lee nodded his consent, waving more bills his way, and Remus allowed him to stick them between his belt and his skirt.
He gave Lee a wink, ran his hand over the other man's thigh—earning himself a slap on his ass and more money—and headed straight over to the bar.
"Si—" Regulus began silently.
"Shut up," Sirius hissed—forced himself to tear his eyes away from Remus' fine figure, and stood abruptly, "we're leaving."
--
"Excuse me?" Sirius tapped his fingers against the register, glancing about once—he felt more nervous than the first time, because now he knew Remus was here, and he didn't want the brunette to see him first. Oh no, he was going to make that bastard pay for not telling him—for letting other people touch him, and watch him, and feel against his skin and...—he was so pissed off it was hard to control his anger. The night before he'd shattered one of the most expensive vases his mother had brought to the hotel-room. He just couldn't believe Remus would keep something like that a secret. Let stand, allow other people to...
"Oui monsieur?" the blonde girl smiled up at him, and he tried to relax somewhat.
"This is a brothel, right," he asked, just to be sure—she gave a nod, her smile turning devious, "I pay for the boy's body?"
"Oui," she wrote something down, twirling the pen in her hand, "do you have anyone in mind?"
"Ruby."
AN: this has to be the worst chapter ever. It all went fine inside my head, but then suddenly I realised you guys don't have my head, so I was going to have to actually write the scene out. Oh, how deliciously wrong it went. Ugh. Remus is OOC, but you know... it'll be explained why he's OOC, if it isn't obvious. I love the idea of Remus as a whore... wait, that sounded wrong...
AN2: I know this was a pretty fast update, but I'd just said to myself: as soon as you get ten (or more) reviews for this chap, you'll update. So yeah. Here it is.
Oh: the more reviews I get, the sooner I update ;)