HARRY POTTER AND EVERYTHING RELATING TO THAT MAGICAL UNIVERSE BELONG TO JK ROWLING, WARNER BROS, BLOOMSBURY BOOKS ETC. AND I AM VERY LUCKY TO BE ALLOWED TO PLAY WITH IT ALL.

Top Dog

Bill leant against the wall of the corridor and pushed himself stiffly to standing. He was glad he'd taken today off work. Absolutely nothing had happened. All night. Just the same as every other watch he'd taken. Now came the most exciting bit - sneaking out of the Ministry building before the staff arrived for the morning. And that wasn't particularly dangerous. If he got caught he would just say that he was looking for his father's office. The more he practiced lying the better he got at it.

His mother was in the kitchen at The Burrow, sitting at the table with her hands wrapped round a half drunk cup of tea.

"Oh, you're all right!" she said, leaping up as he Apparated in.

"Of course I am," Bill answered with a hug.

He towered over her, leaning down to kiss the hair on the top of her head. She'd done the same to him when he'd been small.

"You must be hungry!"

She broke away, heading for the pans. He caught her glance at the magic clock. Now that she was confident about the safety of one of her flock, she needed to check on the rest of them.

"More tired than hungry," he tried to answer, but she insisted on conjuring him a plate of scrambled egg, bacon and mushrooms.

As he ate, his father came downstairs dressed for work.

"Ah! Bill. No concerns last night, I hope?" Arthur asked. His father had been worrying about him too.

"Absolutely trouble free. As usual."

"Wouldn't do to be complacent. One night something will happen to someone," Arthur insisted. He looked reassured, though.

Bill slept until midday. When he woke he felt well enough to work. Next time he would just take the morning off. Today, though, he had a free afternoon. And he knew where he wanted to spend it.

Sirius answered the door looking terrible. His lids were heavy and the hollows of his face dark. He saw Bill and exhaled hard, colour flooding his face.

"Come in. Thank God."

Bill felt guilt thud into his stomach with the weight of granite. He had known perfectly well that Sirius was worrying about him as hard as Mr and Mrs Weasley were. He'd fallen asleep without letting him know he was safe.

Sirius stalked ahead into the house, briefly supporting himself on the banister before turning to give Bill an obviously forced smile.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine," Bill offered.

"Anything happen last night?" Sirius checked.

"All fine," Bill insisted.

"Fine."

They looked at each other. Sirius was running his eyes rapidly all over Bill's face and body. It was as though he were checking that everything really was fine. Or, Bill realised with a sharper pang of guilt, as though he had been thinking that he might not see it again.

"Very fine." Clearly Sirius was trying for seductive, but his voice shook.

"You look like you need to lie down," Bill answered. He layered his voice to sound like lust, but was actually thinking that it was sleep Sirius needed.

Bill wrapped his arms round thin shoulders and Apparated them both to Sirius' bedroom.

Sitting down on the bed, Sirius said, "We could have walked. I liked what happened when we tried to walk up here yesterday."

"Good thing we had a bit more patience at lunchtime," Bill said, smiling, "or Snape would have got a proper eye-full."

They smiled rather than laughed. Making light was one thing, but it was too tough a subject to be really funny.

Bill didn't know what to say. He didn't want to ask how worried Sirius had been, whether he'd slept, what Bill could do to make things better; he couldn't think of anything else to talk about.

Sirius put his wand down on the bedside table. Bill was reminded of the time they'd fellated his wand together.

"It's our one week anniversary!" Bill announced.

"We should have a shower to celebrate."

The first corner of a plan formed at the edge of Bill's mind. He did know way to make amends. He just didn't know if he was brave enough to carry it through.

"Afterwards," he said, leaning into Sirius' body, stroking back the ebony hair, pressing their mouths together.

Sirius responded with feverish energy. They lay back together. Bill wasn't sure who had started the move down. From then on, though, he was careful to let Sirius lead their actions. Sirius' movements were frantic and jagged. He pulled at Bill's clothes ineffectively and it was Bill who removed them.

Bill watched his lover climb onto him. The blinding desire was infectious. He sank into it. His hands pushed their way inside the silk shirt, up the hot, smooth skin of Sirius' sides. Soon they were both naked, writhing and exploring with hands and mouths. Bill's brain worked away under it all, questioning himself, trying to work out if he could go through with this. He lost his thinking abilities as the fog of arousal descended, but kept pulling himself together, forcing himself to ignore his thrusting lust for long enough to make a decision.

When he was absolutely sure, he parted his knees, lifting them to the level of Sirius' hips, grabbed Sirius' left hand and sucked in three of the long fingers. He angled his pelvis forward to rub against Sirius' stiff, sticky cock. Sirius froze.

He looked down into Bill's face. For a moment they were both completely still, Sirius resting on one elbow, his legs lying between Bill's, his fingers in Bill's mouth. Bill smoothed his hands down to Sirius' buttocks and held them firmly.

"Do you mean it?" Sirius choked out.

Bill just swallowed and nodded. He wriggled himself up against Sirius' naked skin to make the point.

"I thought you didn't." Sirius planted one soft kiss on Bill's forehead.

"I haven't," Bill said round the fingers, "I want to." Because you are different and special, he didn't say.

Sirius nodded; his eyes glittered. He shifted slightly down Bill's body and softly pulled his hand free of Bill's lips. He moved it down between their bodies. Bill could feel the solid, rounded wetness of the end of the penis against his perineum, and the smaller, wetter, harsher feel of the fingers massaging his hole.

He knew exactly what Sirius was doing, he'd done it enough times himself. He tried not to think about what it felt like to be Sirius.

Sirius rolled off him and the loss of the body warmth was like a slap.

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked.

Bill nodded. He was absolutely sure. Sirius waited.

"Yes, I'm sure," Bill said.

He grabbed a pillow from beyond his head and lifted his hips to place it underneath.

Sirius took his wand from the little table and pointed it across the room. Some sheets of paper fluttered to the floor as a little tube rose up from underneath them and flew to the bed from the top of the chest of drawers.

Sirius got back into position between Bill's knees, saying, "Then you're going to have to relax."

Bill realised then that his buttocks were clenched together. He made an effort to relax all his muscles. For some reason, on no evidence, he was expecting this to hurt. He made his breathing slow, reminded himself that he trusted Sirius. Completely. Sirius smiled.

Bill watched as Sirius squeezed lube onto his fingers and ran them over each other. Bill noticed for the first time that the nails of the middle three fingers of his right hand were short, whereas the rest of his fingernails were long. Grey eyes looked down between Bill's thighs and Bill couldn't stop himself from imagining what that looked like.

Making eye contact, Sirius lowered his mouth onto Bill's cock. Bill gasped and Sirius popped in a finger. It felt like a trapped fart until Sirius started to move it and a chilli burn began. Bill thought he'd been stupid not to try this out for himself first. It was easy enough to finger-fuck yourself. That way he would have been prepared.

It felt like pain and Bill's body was about to react to it as though it were pain, but realised in time that it wasn't. The finger movement created a new, intoxicating sensation. Bill managed to relax into it. His brain started to close down.

Sirius continued to lick along the head of Bill's prick, lulling him further, so that he never noticed the entry of the second finger. The nerves inside Bill's anus sang incoherent messages to his brain. The rub was like raw skin, the stretch like hunger, but there was no making out the shapes within him. He felt himself falling inside himself. There was so much for his senses to process, almost too much. He gritted his teeth against the push.

Sirius stopped moving. "Should I stop?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"No!" Bill nearly screamed. His arse pushed itself down on the static fingers.

They couldn't stop, this had to happen. It was his gift to Sirius, his way of telling him he loved him, without using the words. The words would lead his lover to ask about Fleur and he could never leave her. Because as much as he loved Sirius, or himself, or could love Fleur, none of it matched the love he had for his unborn children. The need for them hollowed him out.

Sirius removed his fingers and knelt up. Bill stopped himself clenching again. He closed his eyes. The wet, rounded tip was smoother than the fingers and soothed its way inside, little bit by little bit. Bill snatched at Sirius' arm and pulled him down so that their bodies pressed together. He kissed Sirius on his panting mouth as he pushed into him.

Sirius drew in a gasp of air. Then he muttered unintelligibly. His hips rocked back and thrust in. Bill grabbed at his buttocks, stroking then kneading, then digging his nails in as the momentum increased.

Bill only existed in his groin. His prick was rubbed between their sweaty bellies and Sirius' prick rubbed to the same rhythm in his arse. He was heat and little else.

Sirius braced his arms against the mattress and tipped his pelvis. Bill realised what was coming and wondered for a second whether he would cope. Then it was too late and his insides exploded with colour, shape, sound and writhing liquid. After only a few strokes of intense joy, Bill heard himself shrieking as he came.

He lay back, boneless, breathing deeply. Above him, Sirius still moved to and fro. His unfocussed deep grey eyes glistened, his panting was shallow, forced and fast, his mouth twisted into a grimace. He looked to be beyond ecstasy. Bill tried to commit the image to everlasting memory. Then Sirius bared his teeth, groaned, thrust hard twice and fell onto Bill's chest.

After a few minutes Sirius made to pull out, but Bill stopped him with a hand on his lower back. He wanted them to be closer than possible for as long as they could. He ran his other hand through silky black hair.

"How was that?" Sirius mumbled onto his collar bone.

How was it? Indescribable. So together, so full, so rubbed and so loved and something above and around and within all of those things.

"Good," Bill reassured him. "Very good."