Chapter 2
Sirius hadn't seen Fenrir Greyback again since the day he had finally told his side of the story to Remus, and been promptly disbelieved. The wizard wanted the werewolf to visit him again, but wasn't surprised the man hadn't. They'd made no official plans or commitments, aside from that one afternoon of fun; but damn the sex was good, and Sirius really wouldn't mind another round or two.
For now though, he really had to get his head back in the game, so to speak. Fantasising about the large werewolf was not a safe thing to be doing when you're on the clock and about to raid a suspected Death Eater hide-out.
"Hello Lovely." A voice came from the darkness, and the very devil Sirius was thinking of materialised from the surrounding night.
"Alphard." James Potter nodded to the newcomer after recovering from his surprise.
"Alpha-rd?" Sirius questioned the werewolf. "Oh Ha ha." Fenrir unrepentantly grinned at the man and then turned to his partner.
"The house is a decoy. Filled with traps too. You want the one across the road."
"Really?" James sighed agitatedly, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "The other team's been using that place's front lawn when they do their surveillance."
"I know." Fenrir confirmed, "The guys inside have been laughing at them every time they set up for the shift."
"Why're you only telling us this now?" Sirius finally butted in.
"Let's just say, they went back on a deal. So I'm being an agent of karma." The werewolf answered with a sinister leer.
"And what deal was that?" James asked suspiciously.
"Ah ah. Informing on myself was never part of our bargain, Mr Auror." Fenrir mock scolded. James rolled his eyes but nodded in acceptance. Law enforcement across the globe, muggle and magical, realise that organised crime was impossible to eradicate. It was just a matter of keeping it away from the notice of the general, innocent public.
"Did you know Remus has warded your entire floor from my entry?" Fenrir turned to Sirius alone, having fulfilled his 'good deed' of the day. "I've been wanting to see you, Lovely."
"No, he only warded entry from the lift." The wizard disagreed.
"You want me to go balcony climbing?" The larger man asked incredulously.
"There's a fire escape. Or are those muscles of yours just for show?" Sirius asked, stepping forward to stand chest-to-chest with the other man. "I suppose I'll just have to entertain myself if that's the case."
Fenrir leaned his head forward, taking a deep sniff at Sirius' neck. "I'll see you after your shift then, Lovely." The man then melted soundlessly back into the darkness from which he came.
James looked to his best friend and partner, "I did not just see you organise to hook up with our Informant later tonight, right?"
"Of course not, Jamie." Sirius denied. "You saw me organising to hook up with Moony's brother. Completely different guy."
"Whatever you say, mate. Whatever you say."
It was nearly eight AM by the time Sirius reached the flat he shared with Remus. They'd caught the criminals they were after, thanks to 'Alphard's tip-off and had left the two wizards and one witch in the capable hands of the ministry guards until their trials could be processed. One of the guards had muttered about forgetting the trials and sending them straight on to Azkaban, and both Sirius and James had jumped down the guy's throat about it. Where was the justice in just locking up people who might have been just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Granted that was pretty unlikely in this case, but better to be safe than sorry.
Sirius stumbled in the front door, leaving his shoes under, rather than on, the shoe rack and called out a 'Honey I'm Home!' which got no response. Remus had already left for his job in the muggle world. The Black heir shuffled to his room before shucking his over-robe and trousers, collapsing face down on the bed in shirt, underpants and socks.
Fenrir could hear Sirius arriving home, from where he lounged on the open balcony. It was a rare sunny day, and he was enjoying the direct sunlight with a smoke. Climbing from the Fire escape to the balcony was child's play for the werewolf, and jimmying the lock on the door even more so. He'd enjoyed a nap surrounded by the other man's changed scent before stepping back out once the sun had risen.
The young man's contraceptive charms had obviously failed at some point, last time Fenrir had seen him. He'd bet it was that time on the dining table. Fenrir smirked – that table could become a family heirloom. Generations of future Greybacks, conceived on the same carved wood dining table.
The man's smirk faded. He'd never considered actually siring cubs. Sure he knew it was a possibility whenever he took a fertile partner to bed, but his partners were never for more than one night, and if he ever saw them again they certainly weren't knocked up.
Then again, maybe it wasn't even his. Who knows if the Black heir had been hopping into other's beds in the past few weeks? The thought made his inner-wolf growl unhappily.
Fenrir wasn't sure why exactly he seemed to be rather attached to the young Black; attached enough to feel possessive at any rate.
Firstly it could be that werewolves are seasonal breeders. Hooking up during a fertile 'season' was pretty much asking for a 6 month relationship, until the next 'season' came around. Then you could either continue as you were with another claiming, or go your separate ways. Of course, having cubs was like signing yourself up for a three year commitment, minimum. Until the cub was weaned, you are both well and truly off the market. Fenrir being a werewolf for his entire adult life was subject to these instincts too.
Of course, less seriously, part of the attraction was simply that it pissed off Remus. The little shit had had everything: two loving parents, full Hogwarts education, and their mother's inheritance when she passed away. Fenrir had been an 'Oops baby' and his Ma had never let him forget it. John Lupin had simply hated his very existence.
Maybe it was just the normality of it – having a relationship, of sorts. He was always so busy running business, making deals, keeping the pack in line; and then he could give himself a break and think about Sirius Black instead. Or waste some time trying to enter his home, despite Remus' wards. It was like a tiny holiday for his brain.
A large part of Fenrir's attraction to Sirius would definitely have to be that he was a Black. With the aptitude for Dark magic, good looks and mental instability came a vein of sexual deviancy, and Sirius had most certainly inherited the lot. Actively seeking out sex with a werewolf (yes he had spied the shape of that sex toy hidden under the man's bed) and begging to be knotted… Fenrir licked his lips just remembering. He threw away the cigarette butt and slipped soundlessly back inside the apartment.
"Now that's a nice view, Lovely." Fenrir announced his presence to the half-asleep wizard. He carefully spread himself over Sirius' back, then ground his quickly hardening cock against the other man's backside. Sirius gave a pleased sounding moan, and rubbed back with his still clothed arse.
"Don't call me Lovely. I'm a bloke, therefore not lovely." The wizard argued. "Though I will accept 'awesome', 'handsome', 'dashing' or even 'Hot Stuff' as acceptable."
"Hmmm. Nope." Was the simple reply. Fenrir's hands had by now worked off Sirius' shirt and were eagerly heading lower. "Lovely. My Lovely."
Sirius wiggled a little, trying to turn himself over, so he could undress the possessive werewolf. He was held in place by strong muscles.
"I have this pressing desire to mount you; claim you again. Remind you just who you're mated to." Fenrir growled lowly, not letting the other man move. "So you're to stay right where you are." Sirius had since lost his underwear and shirt, while the werewolf was still fully dressed. One of Fenrir's thumbs slid between Sirius' cheeks and rubbed firmly against his eager opening.
"Claimed? Mated?" Sirius objected, though notably he ceased his efforts to change position. "Just when did I agree to that?" He let out another moan as the adventurous thumb finally entered him.
"When you had me fuck you in your fertile period. When you begged for my knot like a bitch in heat. When you let me mark you as you came." Fenrir growled, roughly shoving his own clothes out of the way. He achingly slowly pushed into the man laying under him on the bed.
"And when your season comes around again, I'll remove any competition and fill you up all over again."
Fenrir was acting weird, in Sirius' informed opinion. Ultra possessive, always watching and not letting Sirius out of his sight for a second. His attention was very intense – almost like the man was concentrating or committing the wizard to memory.
Strange occurrences required a serious drink, so Sirius headed for his beloved whiskey collection. Pouring two fingers, the large werewolf boxed Sirius in against the counter, and stole the glass out his hand.
"Been seeing anyone in the last, what, six weeks Lovely?" The taller man asked, sniffing at the expensive bourbon.
"No," Sirius answered, watching Fenrir carefully out the corner of his eye. "I do know that much about werewolves since, you know, I live with one." Fenrir hummed, sniffing the drink again and making no move to return it.
"That brother of mine been acting odd lately?" Sirius began to wonder where these questions were going, and if they might explain Fenrir's strange intensity.
"Yes!" The younger man agreed, temporarily distracted and turned in the other's arms. "Did you really have to wipe your cum on the underside of the rug?" The werewolf smirked unrepentantly. "He spent two weeks sulking because the place apparently smelled of you, and then nearly a whole month trying to figure out why it still smelled of you! He tried to set the rug on fire, and when I wouldn't let him, Moony demanded I take it to the car wash."
Fenrir stopped grinning abruptly. "Take the rug to a car wash? What?"
"The rug's not really a rug. It's my motorbike." Was the flippant reply.
Fenrir allowed himself to be pushed out of the road. He quickly swallowed the drink from the glass he was still holding, and followed Sirius to the 'not-really-a-rug'. He watched, bemused, as the coffee table was banished to the side of the room, and a small rune in the rug's pattern was tapped by the wizard's wand.
True enough, the rug transformed back into its original state, of a black Harley Davidson motorcycle complete with side car. Fenrir was reluctantly impressed at the transfiguration matrix that would have had to go into that.
"Now," Sirius spun and pinned the werewolf with a glare. "You've been sniffing me repeatedly since you got here; won't let me out of your sight; went all possessive-alpha all over the place – not that I'm complaining when it's in the bedroom, mind; asked about Remus' funny behaviour; and you stole my damn drink. What is your problem today?"
"My problem, huh Lovely?" Fenrir adopted a leer and backed Sirius into the would-be heirloom dining table. He grabbed the wrist of the wizard's wand arm, knowing that as a Black this situation was liable to turn explosive at any moment. "Remember last time I had you up against this table, hmm?"
Sirius nodded, feeling a swoop of lust despite his current confusion.
"Did you remember your little contraceptive charms afterwards? Because the earlier ones would had to have worn off by then." Fenrir purred in the man's ear, taking another deep breath, inhaling his scent knowing now that the cub was definitely his.
Fenrir was right in thinking that the situation would get explosive, though it wasn't Black who started it. Sirius, in fact, had frozen in place, eyes wide and jaw dropped.
It was Remus coming back after finishing his shift at work, who started the train-wreck that was that afternoon.
"What are you doing here?" The tawny haired man shouted, barely in the door, and already able to sniff out the intruder. He rushed into the room and was promptly apprehended by the more muscular werewolf, instead of sending him tumbling like he'd intended.
"Hello Brother." Fenrir snarled. "Been noticing anything different about your housemate lately? Anything you might have just 'forgot' to mention?" Remus' eyes automatically drifted to the still stunned Sirius. "You can smell it right? You can tell that he's carrying my cub."
Remus looked guilty, but stayed mute.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sirius finally came out of his stupor. "Or told James, so he could tell me? Given a hint? Anything?"
Remus raised his hands placatingly. "Sirius, you're an alcoholic and have been since our seventh year. Greyback is a career criminal, among other unsavoury personality traits. Do you really want to even try to bring a kid up like that?" He attempted to reason. "Besides with the way you drink your chances of carrying to term are practically nil. If you didn't know then you couldn't get as upset."
A moment of absolute stillness before all hell broke loose.
"It's MY choice what I want to try to do or not! And how dare you…"Sirius screamed at his housemate. Already his wand was in hand, and the infamous silver whip materialising.
Fenrir physically tackled his younger brother to the ground, roaring like the angry beast he was and fists flying.
The silver whip hit both werewolves mid-brawl, and they instinctively sprang apart to avoid further lashes.
"You gave me that bottle I wanted for ages, when you hate the Whiskey collection!" Sirius's final accusation was able to be heard. "You're trying to kill my baby!"
"You didn't even know about it, or care till a few minutes ago!" Remus shouted back. Fenrir took advantage of Sirius' attention being on the other man to dart into the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" Asked Remus, always on the lookout for the renegade werewolf to be doing something nefarious. Before the other two could catch up, Fenrir slammed open the pantry door and grabbed the central support for the rotating shelves. In his hurry, several of the bottles went crashing to the tiled floor, causing Sirius to run over. Before he could be prevented, Fenrir tore the support from the anchors in the floor and ceiling, destroying every last bottle of spirits and sending broken glass and splashes of bourbon everywhere.
"No more poison for you, Lovely." The werewolf growled, and tossed the broken timber in Remus's general direction.
"NO!" Shrieked Sirius, fire igniting behind his eyes. A slash of his still wielded wand with a wordless scream, and both werewolves were caught in a tornado of broken glass and alcohol, which tossed them out the front door.
Remus's wards immediately apparated Fenrir to the outside of the building. Remus himself was pulled along as he had landed underneath his brother following the glass-tornado.
"That's why you warded me out, huh Remus?" Fenrir spat, pulling himself up and away from the other man, blood starting to drip from his many glass cuts. "Didn't want me to find out about the cub. Didn't want me find out that you're trying to kill MY child!"
Remus gained his feet, and began circling counter to his enraged brother. "You'd just raise another monster like you, biting children and ruining innocent lives. And dragging Sirius down with you."
Snarling, Fenrir charged into Remus, dodging a wild punch with inhuman reflexes, and taking them both back to the ground.
"Biting you was an accident! I wouldn't want a weak little shit like you in my pack anyway!" The larger werewolf rained punches and clawed scratches down on the pinned werewolf. "Everything's a 'curse' to you. Something more for you to whine about. Doesn't mean you get to poison my cub!"
Luckily for Remus, Aurors had arrived on the scene. Brawling werewolves on a muggle city street, were not exactly inconspicuous. The two were separated and detained.
Remus was released after twenty-four hours in a holding facility in the Ministry. Fenrir's record went against him, and he was sentenced to three months at the Tower of London, Britain's lower security prison. When he got out, the Alpha had a mate with cub to find.