The Sins of their Father
Author's Note: Harry Potter and all the rest is to J.K. Rowling.
Upping the ratings on this one. Light bondage at the end, so if that's not your thing, don't say I didn't warn you. :D Beta by junjou romanticist (I'll be answering the wand question next chapter… I hope) and me. Yay.
*
Chapter Three: Happiness in Slavery
The water had gone slightly cold when Sirius stepped into the bath. He sighed, prodding one of the taps with his toe and releasing a flood of mint-scented water that sent the bath overflowing.
"Is everything all right, sir?" said Lupin, from behind him.
Sirius threw the servant a look from over his shoulder. The boy was getting into the habit of entering rooms without knocking, and while Sirius didn't really give much of a damn for decorum, he did value his privacy.
"Don't do that."
"That, sir?" So the blighter was acting coy, raising one eyebrow at Sirius as he placed some towels on the back of the chair where Sirius had laid out his dressing gown.
"Knock before opening the damned doors, I meant. What if I had someone with me?"
The boy blushed, although the rest of his face remained as it were.
"I did knock, sir. And I would never have entered the room if I thought you were occupied."
"That's one way of putting it," said Sirius, who was sure Lupin did nothing of the kind. "How were you sure I wasn't?"
"You were alone when you got back to the house last night," the boy said, softly.
"I wasn't aware that keeping an eye on me was part of your duties," Sirius observed. There was a separate entrance to his room that was directly connected to a staircase at the back of the house, built at Sirius' own orders. The steep stairs were worth a broken neck on drunken nights, and the whole thing was like an open invitation to various opportunists to have a go at him when he's asleep and undefended, but Sirius did have some business the rest of the family was better off not knowing and which Orion understood well enough.
So Sirius didn't know how Lupin could have observed his return to Grimmauld Place without Sirius being aware of it, and the fact irked him, like Lupin's penchant for being a nosy git and how he seemed to be standing close by wherever Sirius turned.
"Slughorn asked me to lock up the house after you," said Lupin, interrupting Sirius' thoughts. "Will that be all, sir?"
Sirius nodded. "Wait. You will help me dress later."
Lupin bowed slightly before walking past the bath to stand beside the door. Sirius smiled at the servant before beginning to touch himself under the water, fingertips idly tracing the line of his foreskin and letting his head fall back, dark tendrils of his hair like ink strokes on the water and on his shoulders.
Lupin's eyes narrowed slightly when he heared Sirius' breath hitch, comprehension dawning on his dark eyes and the shock bleeding over his features before Lupin caught himself and got his mask back on again.
So he stood there, not taking his eyes off Sirius even as Sirius got into his task, stifling his moans as both his hands—slick now with soap and vanilla-scented lotion from the other taps—began to go up and down the length of his cock, stroking now gently, and then desperate, one finger playing with the tip until he did let out a sharp cry in spite of himself.
His eyes met Lupin's from across the room, steam and bubbles and his own desire blurring his vision even though the boy stood there in sharp focus, looking at Sirius with his hands carefully folded over his stomach.
Sirius wondered how that impassive face would look, with Sirius' cock pressing deep into Lupin's arse and Sirius' hands pulling, forcing the boy's desire to peak. Until there was only that place where their bodies were joined and Lupin's low, hoarse voice calling out Sirius' name desperately; begging, pleading for him to give it hard and deep, make him come.
As Sirius released his load into the bath water, he was already thinking about when and where he was going to fuck Remus Lupin.
Damn Bertha for being right, anyway.
*
"Where have you been?"
Remus refused to meet Slughorn's eyes, choosing instead to stare at the monocle dangling from the older man's waistcoat pocket. "Upstairs. I was cleaning up the young master's—"
"The young master," said Slughorn. Something in his tone made Remus wince inwardly, suggested stinking alleyways and dirty fingernails digging against pale flesh and Remus decided that he didn't like the old butler at all.
"You were the one who assigned me as his valet," said Remus, coldly.
"Only because Lord Voldermort ordered me to!" Slughorn burst out, pacing the room now with heavy steps. "I have been hearing some talk—some disturbing rumors—"
"If you're uncomfortable about me shagging your precious young master, then rest assured," said Lupin, allowing one more degree of warmth to drop from his tone. "I'm not and he isn't. I doubt the thought has even entered his mind. Really, Slughorn, some people have more to think about than scratching their itch. You shouldn't believe everything Bertha Jorkins tells you."
"I don't care about whatever sort of deviant behavior Sirius indulges in behind closed doors," said Slughorn, hastily. "That's none of my business. What I meant was that he never—well, I meant that Lord Voldemort has told me nothing of the reason why you had to be admitted into this household and I've been hearing some rumors—"
"Are you saying that you suspect Voldemort of some scheme?"
"Do you deny it?" said Slughorn, looking at Remus beadily with his myopic eyes.
Remus shrugged. "It has nothing to do with you. Why would you want to entangle yourself into things by playing the nosey parker?"
"Because I was the one who let you into the house, even knowing what you really are!"
Remus took out the wand he was hiding in his sleeve and pointed it at Slughorn. His movement was unhurried, deliberate, and he made sure that the expression on his face told the older man that Remus was perfectly capable of following through with his threat. "Calm down, Horace."
"Don't point that thing at me," said Slughorn, warningly. He stepped backward, ending up against the edge of his desk. His hand reached out to clutch at one side of it. "I swear, Lupin, if anything happens to Sirius Black and those fools in the Ministry suspect me—"
"You'll what?" said Remus, conversationally. He did not lower his wand. "Plot revenge against me in Azkaban? Are you Voldemort's supporter or not? Surely you know that the lord takes care of his own."
"And you?" Slughorn laughed. Remus could see drops of sweat trickling down the man's face and soaking the collar of his shirt, but the butler held his ground nevertheless. Orion was indeed a fearsome man if he can demand such loyalty from his servants. But Orion wasn't Remus' problem. "Once you've done what you'd been sent here for, what? What makes you think they won't catch you, anyway? And don't even think about Fudge allowing you a trial. It's off to the Azkaban with you at the tip of his bowler."
Remus shrugged, finally letting his hand fall back to his lap. "That's my business."
"Sirius isn't stupid, Lupin," said Slughorn, sounding almost sympathetic. "If he finds out, well, Fudge would be the least of your worries."
"Have you never risked your life on the roll of a dice, Horace?" said Remus, pleasantly, as if they were having this conversation over tea and scones.
Slughorn didn't stop to think. "No."
"Well I have." Remus smiled. "It's the only way this world allows me to live. Good day, Horace."
*
It was another card party, at the Malfoys' this time, and Sirius was not so much drunk as saturated on good wine and those figs that Narcissa Malfoy liked so much. He was better at maths when he wasn't quite sober, though, which meant that he was on a winning streak that night and had to go away from the card table before people started challenging him to duels.
"No fault of theirs," said Lucius, the host, as he joined Sirius by the balcony. He was carrying two flutes of champagne, handing one of them to Sirius with a nod. "Betting is parts pretending and parts chances, after all."
"Pretending?" said Sirius, taking a sip of the champagne.
"To have money. Pretending that they can afford it," explained Lucius.
"Bagman?" said Sirius, tentatively. If anyone found fault with Sirius, it was that he didn't listen to gossip, so that he was always behind the news.
"If you will. He's not the only one, though. There are many of them at that table." Lucius' tone suggested a smirk, even though the expression on his face had the 'where have you been, son' look about it. As if to confirm this, Lucius went on, "You know how the times are changing, Sirius. The line between us and them is getting more marked and it seems to me that you are not so much aware of this as ignoring it entirely. Narcissa is worried about you."
Narcissa was Cygnus' youngest daughter and Sirius' cousin. There was no love lost between them, but that was not something Sirius can say out loud with any modicum of politeness.
"Is there anything in particular that I've done to make her so?" he said, instead.
"Oh, it's nothing as specific as that." Lucius waved the idea away and laughed softly. His false jollility made Sirius want to grit his teeth in frustration, but Sirius didn't do things like that. Walburga would have a fit. "But you might want to consider showing us where you stand among the scheme of things."
"What are you saying, Lucius?" said Sirius, flippantly. "Where else would I stand?"
"Your father has been quite reticent regarding his support of Lord Voldemort," said Lucius, slowly. He turned towards the railings of the balcony. "And you know how much influence he has over the wizarding world. The ton, in particular, regard him with the highest esteem."
"Orion always does what he wants, you know that." Sirius downed the rest of the champagne, noticing with growing irritation that the older man hadn't touched his own. If it was poisoned, well, at least he'd managed to piss off Lucius Malfoy before going to his eternal rest. "What I tell him would be no more than the buzzing of bees, for all the consideration he'd give my words."
"I'm well aware of Orion's stubborness," said Lucius. "But people think quite highly of you, too, Sirius. You are Orion's son, after all, and his heir. If you just—"
"I don't do politics, Lucius," Sirius cut in, drunk past politeness. "There are more interesting things to attend to and life's too short to waste on powerful people not getting along."
"Well, then, what do you concern yourself with?" said Lucius. "Buggering the servants?"
"Why not, if said servant is pretty enough?" Sirius laughed. "Why don't you tell your lord Voldemort to get himself a nice bint and get it over with?"
"You're drunk, cousin," said Lucius, with barely restrained venom.
"Of course I am. You're famous for your excellent taste in wine, after all," said Sirius, reaching out to take Lucius' untouched flute of champagne. "Do you want that?"
"You should listen to young Crouch, Sirius," said Lucius, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
"Do you have the guts to do it here in your own house?"
"It won't be me to do you in, so have as much as you want." Lucius handed the champagne over. "Who knows when you'll be drinking your last?"
*
Lupin was rearranging the logs in the hearth when Sirius got back to his rooms. He sighed, taking off his cloak and leaving it on the back of a loveseat. The cloak was wet, and who knew the damage water can do on the upholstery, but Sirius reckoned he could just cover it up with a new tapestry for Walburga's next visit, which only happens once in a decade or so anyway.
"Wretched weather, as always."
Lupin said nothing, looking at Sirius briefly before going back to what he was doing. Sirius noticed that the servant was wearing kid gloves, the whiteness of it stark against the black and silver of his livery. In the dimness of the room they looked like disembodied hands holding a poker by the fireplace. And the ivory mask of Lupin's face above them.
"I'd like some rum."
"I think you'd have enough drink," said Lupin, softly. He rose from his crouching position more gracefully than Sirius would have expected from such a lanky body, but then again, clumsiness didn't belong with Lupin somehow.
"If I pass out now, that's one more night you get to spend unacquainted with my bed," said Sirius, slowly. The deliberate way he chose his words told him how drunk he really was. The thought made him smile inwardly. He tended to be a mellow drunk. Sometimes. "Or you can do with me what you will, as Lucius Malfoy had failed at quite terribly. Either way benefits you, no doubt. Give me the rum."
"Why don't you help yourself then?" said Lupin.
"Does my father really pay you to give me lip?" Sirius sighed again, loosening the ribbon that held his hair back in a ponytail and sinking down on his bed.
"I think you've had a long night," said Lupin, trying not to wince as the melted snow and bits of mud on Sirius' clothes got transferred to the bedclothes. "Your nightclothes are already laid out beside you. Shall I get the bath ready?"
Sirius shrugged, undoing the many buttons of his coat. "Help me with this."
"And here you are, thinking that you can do with more alcohol in you." There was a shadow of a smile in Lupin's tone, and Sirius noticed that the boy's face wasn't quite as severe as usual as Lupin crossed the room to stand by the foot of the bed.
"Do you know what the other servants are saying?"
"It ill befits you to listen to kitchen gossip."
"Do you mind so much?" Sirius gave up on his coat, lying back on the bed instead and resting his weight on both his elbows as he looked up at the boy. When Lupin didn't answer, Sirius laughed. "Get undressed, Lupin."
Lupin paused, half-bent with his hands reaching out to help Sirius get out of his wet clothes. "That's not a good idea, sir."
"Swallowed the etiquette book, haven't you? Don't you have anything more creative in your repertoire?"
"I don't get paid to give you lip, apparently." Lupin straightened back up, looking down at his palms. "You're an idiot, aren't you?"
"Such a way to address your master. I can get you sacked, can't I?" Sirius matched the servant's tone, although his own voice had more humor in it. And more alcohol fumes.
"You won't even remember this conversation tomorrow."
"I know how to remedy that." Sirius smiled, tugging at the ribbons of his jabot with one hand. "Accio, Lupin."
He caught the boy with his free arm, shifting his position so that Lupin was lying more comfortably on top of him. "This isn't so bad, is it?"
"You're wet," Lupin pointed out. "And you smell like dog."
"If I let you go now you're going to hex me unconscious and blame the rum the next day." Sirius' hands began to travel from the sharp curve of Lupin's hipbones to the boy's arse. Lupin, who was suspiciously stronger than he looked, tried to push him away, stopping only when Sirius wrapped one hand around his neck. "What have you got to lose, Lupin?"
"Don't tell me rough play doesn't turn you on," Lupin gasped.
Sirius laughed softly, lifting his hips so that Lupin can feel how hard he was.
"Well, yes," he admitted, grudgingly. "You know it's going to happen, anyway, why fight against it?"
"You don't know me, Black," said Lupin, his breath catching when Sirius' hand travelled lower, back arching involuntarily so that Sirius could feel the boy's hard-on rub against his own even through a thousand frustrating layers of damp clothes.
"I trust myself." And because he couldn't stop himself, Sirius bent down to nuzzle the boy's unruly hair, taking a deep breath of the strawberry shampoo that Lupin used; the incongruous scent sending a painful message from his brains to the very balls of his cock. "Do you want it to be rape, Lupin?"
"Don't."
Sirius snapped his fingers, conjuring ropes that trailed down from the posts of his bed. Lupin looked up at him, eyes wide. The boy's fingers tightened on the lapels of Sirius' coat, but Sirius hadn't taken his hand from Lupin's neck yet and the boy wasn't taking any chances.
"Tell me if it hurts you," said Sirius, against the curve of Lupin's ear. He used magic to tie the ropes around Lupin's wrists, reducing the slack of the ropes so that Lupin had to scramble up in a sitting position over Sirius, his arms spread wide. "Let me wallow in your pain."
"Someone's a poet," said Lupin.
Sirius let go of the boy's neck to slap him on the mouth.
"Speak only when I say you could." He reached out, kissing Lupin deeply, pulling at the boy's lower lip with his teeth and tasting the sweet vanilla taste of sugared paper that Lupin rolled his cigarettes in. Sirius had caught him at it one day, the stolen moment and a memory of Lupin relaxing when he thought no one was looking at him.
Lupin moaned against Sirius' mouth, their teeth meeting painfully as the boy began to kiss back, pushing at Sirius so that it seemed like a battle between them, seeing which one would back off first. Sirius smiled inwardly. He'd played games like this before, and knew the rules well enough to make them suit his purposes.
So he broke the kiss, applying himself to taking Lupin's clothes off before the other boy could catch on to what he was doing. His eyes narrowed as the black fabric of Lupin's livery fell back to reveal the pale flesh of his chest, the angry pink lines marring the smooth, creamy surface.
"Old master treated you badly, huh?" he said, tightly, tongue flicking out to give one cinnamon nipple the briefest of licks.
Lupin made a growling sound from the back of his throat, pushing himself against Sirius. "Forget that. Please. Just—please."
"Seems like I'm not the only one who enjoys rough play," said Sirius. His hand tightened on Lupin's waist, and he picked through the tangle of emotions he was feeling to realize that he was angry. "What have you done to yourself?"
"Why do you care?" Lupin said, looking directly at Sirius. In the flickering firelight, Sirius realized that the boy's eyes were almost noctilucent: glittering gold in the half-dark.
Sirius took a deep breath. "Because you're mine."
"It was a long time ago. I was a kid." Lupin finally looked away. "And I was stupid. It's not what you think it is."
There was more to it than that, Sirius knew, but there was no way he was going to try solving the mysteries of Lupin's past when he could be doing other, more important things. Without saying anything more, he bit at Lupin's nipple, pulling at it as he had done with the boy's lips, tugging and sucking until Lupin started rubbing against him again, whimpering.
"Fuck me, please. Fuck me."
Sirius smiled, moving away from under Lupin so that he was kneeling on the bed in front of the boy and no part of their bodies were touching anymore.
"A good servant only knows to obey, Lupin," he said, reproachfully.
Lupin struggled against his bonds, the rope cutting at the flesh of his wrists, rubbing them raw. He was breathing heavily, sweat-slick body almost glowing in the dimness and his hair catching the light like a candy floss halo. Sirius began undoing the fly of Lupin's trousers, releasing melting, trembling heat. He held Lupin's cock briefly, fingertip brushing across the tip and feeling the wetness there before concentrating on getting Lupin's trousers off. Someday someone was going to invent a spell that would take care of little details, like getting people naked more quickly and with minimum effort. As it were, Sirius had to do with a lot of patience and a cunning flip of his wrist, pulling Lupin's trousers and pants down to his ankles and effectively binding the boy's feet together as well.
He slapped the boy's cock playfully before kissing the tip, feeling the blood pulsing under the sensitive skin before taking Lupin's cock into his mouth, nipping when he felt Lupin thrust against him. His hands grabbed at Lupin's hipbones, the hollow of his stomach making them perfect handles, to stop the boy's movements.
"What did I say, Lupin?"
Lupin's voice was hoarse, breaking in mid-sentence. "Please, Sirius, please. I can't—"
Nobody has ever said Sirius' name in that way before. He smiled, saying the words around Lupin's cock, "What do you want?"
"Inside," said Lupin. He was frowning, eyelashes fluttering closed when Sirius began to suck hard at his pulsing flesh. Sirius looked up, noting Lupin's flushed face; the way the boy was turning a moist pink that reminded Sirius of the inside of a shell.
Sirius got off the bed, moving to stand behind Lupin while his fingers fumbled to undo his own trousers. Next time he would get the boy fully naked and taste every forbidden part of his spare body, but right now he was too close himself, wanted nothing more than press himself into Lupin, fuck him hard enough the whole house would hear him scream.
He said as much to Lupin, whispering furiously against one pink ear and feeling the boy tremble against him, and then Sirius was thrusting inside, his own cock slick with pre-come, past the rough opening and the tight, tight warmth. Someone gasped as he pulled almost roughly at Lupin's cock, feeling the boy's arsehole tighten around him.
"Sirius!"
"Yes," said Sirius, thrusting harder and hearing the bed creak under Lupin. He leaned against the boy, so that Lupin was supporting most of his weight, Sirius' knees banging against the bed frame.
It didn't take long until Lupin was shuddering against him, letting out a poorly muffled scream and sinking down so that the ropes were taut around his wrists, thrusting back so that Sirius' balls were flush against his arse.
Sirius gasped as Lupin's arsehole pulled at him greedily, tighter than before, and his thrusts slowed, not letting more than an inch of his cock out of Lupin.
"Remus," he breathed out, before coming himself. "Remus."