DISCLAIMER: J K Rowling thought it all up and now I am playing with some of her characters and situations. David Bowie thought up quite a bit of it, too, including the story and chapter titles and some other sentences and situations.
WARNING: Contains two boys who are barely acquainted in a public convenience doing intimate things to each other. Hold onto your hats ladies (and gentlemen?): Here comes the smut!
REALLY QUITE PARADISE
The harsh fluorescence of the strip-light glared yellow onto Regulus' upraised arm. Remus stared speechlessly at the Mark displayed there. His mind was attempting a debate relating to things like morality and loyalty but it was difficult to hear it over the rushing blood still transporting testosterone round his body at an accelerated rate.
Regulus' beautiful big grey eyes moistened. "It doesn't matter to me," he said. "I mean, I know you're with Dumbledore's little resistance gang --"
Remus was piqued at that description, but Regulus misread his expression.
" -- Don't bother to answer, I know you'd only be able to lie about it. Just because I've been chosen by the Rightful Lord doesn't mean we can't … This isn't about the conflict. This is just, I mean …" Regulus floundered, aware that he was nervously babbling.
Remus took hold of the schoolboy's wrist and turned his arm over, putting the offensive symbol out of sight. While he wasn't watching, his other hand somehow moved to rest back on Black's hip - cupping the jut of his pelvis. He looked into those deep eyes, now watching his own face uneasily, then swept his gaze over the handsome features, the shiny, straight hair, down the smooth white neck of the fair creature under his touch.
"This would be easier," Remus mumbled "if you were less …" then because he couldn't think of any word more appropriate, he repeated himself, "gorgeous."
Why would it matter if they gave themselves this moment, why should this be a love they could not obey? It wasn't like they would whisper secrets to each other. There was no pillow, there could be no pillow talk. In fact, these situations were improved, in Remus' experience, by never seeing one another again. Being on different sides of the war made that more likely.
Remus sank his mouth onto the soft throat in front of him. He fell forward so that their ribcages once again pushed against each other to breath. Letting go of the tainted arm, he pulled up the skimpy white vest, dropped it to the floor. Dark hair curled sparsely over the stretch between the nipples, gathered under the armpits and curled round the navel, accentuating the alabaster paleness of Regulus' skin. Remus ran his tongue over one dark, erect nipple.
"Doesn't matter?" Regulus' voice was wavering and breathy.
"Doesn't seem to," Remus replied softly against the bare chest.
Regulus whimpered and stroked his fingers encouragingly through the older boy's unruly, golden brown locks. With experienced fingers, Remus went back to work on the stiff fastenings of the new jeans. Regulus' pelvis pushed forward, thrusting his swollen erection into Remus' hands.
Regulus' face was mottled with red, his eyes closed and mouth open. He was almost too eager. Panic rushed a quick chill through Remus. He wasn't keen on de-flowering. I could get messy in more ways than one. Especially if it was his best mate's baby brother he unwittingly initiated.
"What do you want to … How do you like …?" he panted into Regulus' ear. Hard, warm cartilage brushed his lip.
"Don't know," was the ragged answer, which didn't calm him any.
He now had the zip on Regulus' fly opened all the way down, but Remus put his hands safely onto the young Death Eater's shoulders and pulled back to watch him.
"What?" Regulus asked, tense. When there was no response, he tried, in a sensual, deep- throated whisper, "What do you want to do? We can do anything." He stroked a palm down Remus' chest, grinding his groin into the answering swelling in Remus' pants. Remus glanced down towards the movement and his breath stopped at the sight of the glistening purple head pushing its way out of Regulus' jeans.
Remus' palm was against it before he could think to stop himself. He grasped the thick shaft, metal teeth scratching across his knuckles. He was so thrilled by the sensation of holding that flesh that it took him a moment to realise that Regulus wasn't wearing underwear. That thought sent yet more blood rushing into his already painfully engorged cock.
A skinny hand shoved roughly down the front of his own, worn-out jeans, finding space between waistband and skin, then wriggling under the elastic of his underpants. His own voice sounded rasping, alien as he grunted out words he didn't know were coming: "Shall I fuck you?"
In answer, Regulus pushed off both of their exploring hands, to turn round. He took up position: facing the cubicle door, feet apart, arms braced in front of him. Remus yanked down the stiff, blue denim and stood back as he undid his own trousers, admiring the perfect form of the youth before him, naked down to the knees. A few sketched lines of dark hair curved over his lower back.
His buttocks were firm, smooth, white, almost oblong. Like no woman's ever were. Remus felt between them, his other hand going into his pocket. He swapped hands, tried the other pocket, pushing round past the wand, into the corners. Desperate, he tried the back pockets, knowing full well it wasn't there.
"Shit! I haven't got any …" He had a sudden vision of his jacket, hanging on the peg by the door: the jacket he'd decided not to wear at the last minute. The jacket with the lube in the inside pocket.
His feet skittered forward. He was being pulled by the fabric of his T-shirt. Regulus reached back and pulled out Remus' wand.
"I know a …" he rasped impatiently, then muttered an incantation. There were many occasions afterwards when Remus wished he'd paid more attention, but he was too distracted to commit the words of the spell to memory.
A substance - body temperature, slimy - coated Remus' fingers, oozed its way over his prick and, he found when he got himself back to it, Regulus' anus. Remus stopped worrying about whether his partner was experienced. Gratefully he caressed the boy's face.
He rubbed his slick finger-tips over the enticing puckering, then pushed in. His movement was met by the flesh under him, pushing back, intensifying the intrusion. His finger was encased in moist, soft warmth. After only a couple of thrusts, he added another finger. He pushed, wiggled, scissored for as long as he could bear to. Regulus twisted his head, sucked in one of Remus' fingers and bit down on it.
Remus groaned, withdrew the fingers of his other hand from the young, tight arse and replaced them with his prick. He stroked Regulus' erection and shoved in hard. After that there was no other sensation, just the hot, red, dark pulsing round his cock as he repeatedly pulled back and rammed in, pistoning furiously. He had to piece together the rest of the experience afterwards from the tooth marks all over one hand and the come drying on the back of the other.
Pace and heat built steadily until he climaxed. His head felt like it was exploding along with his groin, scattering stardust through the darkness behind his eyelids. Every nerve-ending tingled and he collapsed in a mass of goosebumps over the other man's sweat-slicked bare back.
The two teenagers hardly looked at each other as they replaced their clothing. They exchanged brief nods of thanks before Remus slipped out of the cubicle.