Chapter 9. Fallen Star
Warning: Coerced sex happens.
A/N: For those of you who wondered why it would be "too late," here's your answer. Kawaii Tenshi27: The curious wine will be explained. Bottlebrush: Regarding a parallel between Sirius in the cellar and Sirius in Azkaban, yes, I wanted to indicate that he had a capacity for keeping himself engaged with whatever he had on hand. As for Hadar, I've never decided if he really is unstable or if he's just too obsessively focused on his business, as if that more his true child than the flesh and blood teenager who defies him.
Chapter 9. Fallen Star
The taxi wended its way through the streets of London. The Blacks sat quietly together in the back seat, but, for once the silence didn't seem brooding or tense to Sirius. He let his mind wander; glad there was no need for verbal battle with his father.
His senses were acutely attuned to stimuli. The bright lights, the smell of the cab, the sounds of the tires swishing along the damp streets. After his sojourn in the closed, dark world of the cellar, Sirius was not surprised. His sense of touch was especially heightened. His charcoal gray wool trousers felt sleekly soft against his legs. Under his jacket, the cream silk shirt whispered against his chest like smooth, stroking fingers. He imagined Remus' deft hands on him and felt his nipples harden. Sirius shifted nervously and concentrated on the cityscape around him.
Finally the taxi drew up to one of the converted warehouses on Canary Row. At Sirius' questioning look, Hadar said, "Anders is hosting us in his company's London flat."
Anders Groot opened the door to the flat and greeted them warmly. "Good evening, gentlemen!" There was the barest hint of an accent in his voice. German? Dutch? Sirius had a quick glimpse of sleek pale wood furniture and banks of windows looking out over the Thames. Anders waved them inside; his moist, fleshy lips curling back to reveal slightly crooked teeth. "I'm so pleased to see you. Especially you, Sirius!"
"Hello, Mr. Groot. Thank you for inviting me," Sirius politely replied.
"Oh, please, call me Anders." Groot's tongue flicked out, spreading a fresh coat of saliva on his lips. "Such a charming young man you've raised, Hadar, with most excellent manners. And so handsome! I always knew he'd blossom into a true Black!" He ushered the Blacks in, one meaty hand planted firmly on each of their backs.
"You were always more sure of that than I was, Anders. I had almost given up hope that he'd ever be the least bit attractive." Hadar moved quickly to the bar. "We should start with a nice champagne to celebrate the successful end of our negotiations. I'll open one of the bottles I brought, eh, Anders?"
"Oh, please do. And did your wife prepare that…ah…special potion for me?"
"I have it right here."
Sirius glanced at Anders, wondering what his mother had prepared for this man whose hard bargaining had often driven his father to distraction. Anders caught the look and said, "For heartburn. It's a tough business, the jewelry trade." His hand slid up to rest at the back of Sirius' neck. "You're young and strong now, my boy, but after a few years dealing with the cutthroat gem merchants out there, you'll have aches and pains, too!"
His hand gave a final squeeze and then Anders turned to help Hadar with the elegant crystal flutes. When they each held one, Hadar raised his glass in a toast. "To closing the deal!"
"To Les Etoiles," Anders added, "and all of its precious stars."
Sirius raised his glass, too, but kept silent. His father was once more smiling at him with that same expression of vicious delight he'd had when they left home.
Anders pronounced the champagne excellent, but Sirius detected an undertone of the same sweetness that had tainted the wine he had shared with his parents. He kept his criticism to himself, and instead concentrated on not wolfing down handfuls of the savory appetizers spread out before him. Anders' descriptions of these delectable, little morsels flew right out of Sirius' head as soon as he heard them, blown away by the aromas wafting off the plates.
Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol, but Sirius found himself relaxing. Or maybe it was, surprisingly, the opportunity to spend a convivial evening out. Or maybe it reflected his feelings of freedom and release. His mind drifted. It suddenly struck him that he'd received no owl posts from any of his friends. He'd have to remember to check on that, although he was having some difficulty making mental notes to himself.
As dinner progressed, Sirius found it harder and harder to concentrate on the conversation. He was evidently still able to make lucid contributions, as neither of the men gave any indication that he was rambling incoherently. But, as soon as any words left his mouth, he forgot what they were. He had a peculiar and rather uncomfortable feeling of living in the immediate present, where, when a moment passed it left only the vaguest impression on his mind.
But, his body seemed newborn to every tactile experience. Everything, from the texture of the toothsome roast beef, to the crisp, clean feel of the linen napkin made his nerve ends dance with delight and cry out for more stimulation.
They were talking about hair. Sirius struggled to hang onto the threads of the conversation, even though they kept slipping away from him, like a handful of wriggling snakes.
"… too long!" Hadar was saying with a tone of genial exasperation.
"Perhaps, but it makes me jealous all the same," Anders replied as he stood to fetch coffee. He stopped at Sirius' chair and smiled at him, licking his lips. One pudgy hand reached out and lightly grasped a fistful of thick, black hair. "I'd pay a high price for beautiful hair like this!"
"You already have," grinned Hadar, a satisfied gleam flashing across his features.
Sirius blinked; confused by the feelings Groot's touch aroused in him. The fingers slid through his hair in a gesture as tender as any he'd ever received from Remus. That was wrong, just plain wrong.
Sirius sipped his coffee, mentally shaking his head in an effort to rid himself of his befuddlement. The paramount thought in his mind was that those fingers, those fat, sausage-like digits, had felt good. He wanted them back, winnowing through his hair. It was easier to think about physical sensations than to try to pay attention to the discussion between the two men. That took way too much effort. Dimly he noticed that the edge of his vision was blurred.
Hazily, he watched the men rise from the table. Sirius stood up, too, only to feel a wave of dizziness that made the room spin. But, Anders was there, a strong arm around his waist, supporting him. Through the rushing sound in his ears he heard, "Alright?...easy…inside…lie down…" Sirius tried to form the words to indicate that lying down sounded like a great idea.
And then he was prone, stretched across a bed thinking, 'If I just close my eyes for a few minutes I'll be okay am I that drunk Dad's probably pissed can't hold my liquor doesn't feel like I'm drunk never felt like this before…'
Firm fingers scaled up his spine to lightly knead his shoulders, his neck. Mmmm…that felt good. The hands whispered back down to his waist, ghosting up his sides in a touch that made him shiver into the cool sheets. His clothes were gone. He was naked against smooth, wonderfully clean sheets. Sirius couldn't remember removing his clothes, but that thought was driven out of his head by the mouth against his nape. It explored along his neck, across the top of his shoulder, planting small, moist, sucking kisses against his flesh. The hands slid beneath his chest, burrowing between the sheets and his skin until the inquisitive fingertips found his nipples. Pudgy fingers circling, circling the sensitive buds until they stood upright to be gently tweaked.
Sirius' breath hissed between his teeth. He felt knees against his hips and sensed the unseen bulk of a body crouched over him, straddling him. And those hands, playing with his body and making sensations sing from his muscles, his very bones, while the mouth sucked and worked at the delicate tissue of his neck. His hips flexed as the hands caressed his firm, smooth arse. Oh, it felt good.
The hands grasped his hips, tugging and turning him over. Sirius opened his eyes, his vision blurry in the low light from the bedside candles. The talented mouth fastened over his own and he breathed in unfamiliar scents and tastes and a skilled, fluttering tongue that danced and teased the inside of his mouth the same way those magic hands burned his body. He kissed back, his own tongue thrusting into his partner's mouth, his arms encircling the bulk of a man. It should be Remus but, no, this person was bigger, broader. Sirius' hands felt layers of flesh gone to seed, muscles turned soft. Not the firm, sleek body of his lover, but someone else. But, it didn't matter, just as long as that body pushed down on top of him, hard and heavy, pressing him into the mattress, the friction of another body against him so hot and sweet.
It should be Remus, but the hand encircling him knew what it was doing and he didn't want it to stop, bucking up into its grasp, trapped underneath this man.
Cool air against his chest, exposed now since the man was moving down his body. The fleshy lips left a wet ribbon on his skin like the slimy trail of a slug. But before Sirius could complete that thought a hot, wet tongue swirled against his cock. And then with a sudden, smooth move his cock disappeared deep into the voracious mouth of Anders Groot. 'No,' Sirius thought, his hands ineffectually grabbed at the mattress, the headboard to push himself away, out of the grasp of this man. But the rolling suction pulling at him, the juicy, liquid noises leaking from the quivering, fat lips overwhelmed him and he felt himself coming and he never wanted it to end.
Gasping to regain his breath, Sirius felt himself rolled over and pulled forward until his vision was filled with a thick cock, its reddened flesh seeming to beg for the soothing caress of a tongue. The heavy musk-drenched scent of sex was a sweet perfume and Sirius knew how it would taste, but he had to be sure, his tongue craved to taste and feel this strange column of flesh. He sampled it with a few delicate licks before fastening his mouth over the head and slowly easing it into his mouth. He was on his knees curled over between Anders' legs, servicing him, obeying his commands like a whore.
In a small corner of his mind a horrified Sirius tried to break free and run, but his legs were broken, his bones were shattered and he couldn't crawl away, couldn't drag himself away from this nightmare.
But, that was just a tiny part of him, easily ignored. The rest of him gloried in the taste and smell and feel of this man. He thrilled to hear a guttural voice chanting his praises, "Ach, that's it...Good boy...Good boy...Good boy."
Sirius' mouth released him only when the flesh turned flaccid. Panting, he collapsed on the bed and the surreal quality of the night threatened to overcome him. But, then the hands came back, silently urging him into a warm, strong embrace. His body, cradled against Anders' bulk, again tingled with the pleasure those skilled hands brought to it. Anders' mouth locked onto his neck, his crooked teeth worrying the skin, his blubbery lips sucking like a starving man seeking every scrap of meat off a bone. Small bruises formed, mixing pain with pleasure and Sirius reveled in it.
Except for the small part of him that retched with revulsion.
Time was meaningless, suborned by the play of caressing fingers setting his flesh afire. Sirius' muscles rippled and twitched, begging for the silken, burning touch. Murmured words poured into his ears like honey. Whispers telling him of his beauty, chanting psalms to his perfection, an aural caress as sweet as any he'd ever heard.
A hand fondled his arse; slicked fingers entered him. The voice in Sirius' ears seemed to come from a great distance, only some of its message getting through to him. "Prepare you…beautiful boy…my prize…fuck you…"
No, that had to be a mistake. Remus was the only one allowed these intimacies. Disturbed, the broken Sirius in the back of his mind renewed his struggle to escape. He lost. His body craved to be touched and stimulated and satisfied. Hands. Tongue. Cock. Fucking. He wanted to be fucked.
So Sirius whimpered when Anders drew away from him and stood up. A quick kiss shushed him.
"We will celebrate our union with some trinkets, yes?" He said in the first complete sentence Sirius had understood for a long time. Groot fairly chortled as he brought a small, velvet bag back to the bed. He stood smiling down at the black-haired, long-limbed creature stretched out so delectably before him.
"You want a good, hard, fucking, yes?"
"Yessss," Sirius hissed.
"You want it bad?"
"Yes." Except part of him didn't want it at all.
"You'll wrap your legs around me and give me that nice, tight arse any way I want it, won't you?"
"Yes." 'No,' cried the small voice in Sirius' head.
"Then let us consummate the deal!"
Anders tipped the bag and slowly spilled a glittering shower of falling stars from Sirius' throat to his groin. A thin stream of diamonds poured down his body, the stones blinking in the candlelight, flaunting their fiery hearts. They came to rest; some rolling off Sirius onto the sheets, others nestling in the dips and hollows of his body, caught by muscles or hair or sweat, adorning him with the price of his purchase.
Anders dropped the bag and was on him. Inside him, pumping in a deep, steady rhythm that made Sirius pant. And still he talked, his words a singsong in time with his thrusts. "To your mother for her perfect love potion. Sweet, wasn't it? To your father, for feeding it to you. For giving you to me. And to you, my handsome star, worth your weight in diamonds."
Sirius groaned in ecstasy, as that thick cock rammed into him. The diamonds pressed into his flesh, their bright hardness leaving behind their own bruises. Sirius didn't care, because he was getting what he wanted. Moaning his pleasure, he drowned out the screams of horror and fury of the broken boy trapped inside his mind.
TBC