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.

APART FROM REMUS, WHO BELONGS TO JULIE.

Author's Note: I've rather set myself up with the question of Bill's patronus. I just put it in to the last chapter because I wondered myself what it might be. I couldn't see it on HP Lexicon and don't remember anything from canon. I'm open to suggestions.

WARNING: May Contain Tonks.

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

Sirius found that his wet tongue was running over his lips. His right fist clenched convulsively round the tube he'd just picked up. Bill was laid out naked on his bed, looking golden and perfect. The pale fur of Bill's body hair gave the impression of a halo of light, or an Aura of goodness. His white buttocks were framed by the light brown skin on the rest of his body. Sirius huffed hot breath over the lips he'd just moistened.

Steady hazel eyes looked straight at him. The look was relaxed, gentle, fogged with lust and affection. Bill looked vulnerable and as though he could think of no position he would rather be in. It was as dirty and sweet as a dream come true.

Sirius was drawn to the smooth skin of the firm bum. He positioned his face over it and gently bit. Bill gasped. Sirius kissed it better. Bill hummed happily. Sirius lay down beside his man, also belly-down, his hard cock pushing into the mattress beside Bill's shoulder, his head on Bill's arse.

He placed little tongue-tip licks around Bill's coccyx before lapping flatly down between the cheeks. When he slipped over the anus, there was a groan and a push back against his face. But Sirius moved away from temptation, on down, fingers joining lips on the seam of the taint and remaining there while his mouth worked on the ginger-haired balls.

As Bill moaned and panted, he grabbed hold of Sirius' leg, digging his nails into the outer thigh. Something soft hit Sirius in the head. A pillow. Bill lifted his hips and attempted an uncoordinated shove. Sirius stopped what he was doing to manoeuvre the pillow. His hand lightly stroked Bill's hard cock on the way past. Then Bill's rear was positioned. He was displayed and available and Sirius reminded himself that he was the only man who'd ever seen this.

As Sirius climbed into the space behind Bill, Bill raised his leg, gently moving it up into his lover's crotch. Sirius pushed into the contact. His cock pulsed. Bill massaged Sirius with his thigh as Sirius rained kisses onto Bill's butt.

Haphazardly, Sirius slopped lube onto both of his hands. He was on the verge of losing control and was aware that he still needed to be gentle. He slid his left hand against the pillow until he reached the place where Bill's prick dipped it. He wrapped his slippery hand round the shaft and moved slowly in the confined space. Bill's hips shifted to give him better access, making his arse come up closer to Sirius' other slicked fingers.

He rubbed round the hole, briefly, before pushing in the first finger. To start with there was resistance, but then the muscle yielded and Sirius' digit was firmly grasped. He circled it at the tip, in the soft, warm space. The combined sensations on his right index finger, his pumping left hand, the noises Bill was making and the stroke of the thigh muscle against his groin were already almost too much.

Hurriedly, Sirius moved off Bill's leg and positioned himself kneeling behind his bottom. He had to minimise his contact with that perfect body now if he was going to last any amount of time inside it. He rubbed his thumb over the head of Bill's cock as he added the second finger. He wiggled and scissored because he wasn't going to manage to wait for a third.

He edged his body closer and Bill, thrashing with need, pushed his back. Sirius freed both his hands to hold Bill's hip while he lubricated, then positioned his penis and pressed it in. He was encased in hot tightness. They both groaned out in the same note at the same time.

He needed to get the position right almost immediately, before he lost himself completely, or he'd never hit the prostate. He tried to remember from last time, but the angles were all different. Bill's moan told him when he'd hit the jackpot and he gave himself over to thrusting. Thought was gone; feeling was all.

His arousal intensified rapidly. One thought made it through the lust. He wanted to feel the spasms of Bill's orgasm around him before he had his own. He grabbed at the space between their legs, aiming for Bill's prick. Instead he touched his own. He could feel his overheated, overstretched skin moving in and out of Bill's sweating flesh. He tipped his head to see it. The vision of him shafting his Adonis was too exciting and he came immediately, screaming obscenities.

He regained consciousness spread-eagled over Bill's back and apologised.

"Nothing to be sorry for."

"Came too soon."

"It's fine. But now …"

Bill turned onto his side and Sirius slipped off him. It took him some seconds to realise that Bill was finishing himself off by hand. He took over. It was a matter of only a few strokes. Sirius looked between the agonised ecstasy on Bill's face and the fountain of spunk exploding out of him.

After a quiet moment, Sirius asked, "You really staying? All night?"

"Unless you decide to get rid of me."

There was no point in even answering that. Sirius straightened the bedclothes and tucked them round them both and then they slept. When the morning sun woke them they still had their arms over each other's backs.

Sirius made breakfast in bed. Well, he went down to the kitchen and yelled at Kreacher until the food was ready and then carried it into the bedroom. Which was almost the same thing. They fed each other scrambled eggs and marmalade toast and coffee. They lounged around reading the Saturday Prophet. Then they had a bath together and washed each other's hair. All the while there was fumbling and stroking and sucking and snogging.

Before Bill went home, just after midday, they had one last, long, intense kiss. It left Sirius in a daze that lasted the rest of the day. He woke early on Sunday full of energy and happily attacked the housework. He went into Buckbeak's room and gave the Hippogryph the attention it had missed out on the day before, as well as clean straw and a brush down. What it needed most was some exercise, but there was nothing he could do about that.

The front door was knocked in the afternoon and Sirius dashed down the stairs. He forced himself to stop and do some steady breathing before he answered it. It wasn't going to be Bill. Not at the weekend. He was still a little disappointed to see Tonks there.

"Wotcher Cuz! Thought you could use some company, I know I could. I brought afternoon tea."

He certainly did want some company. He liked his brave, funny, clumsy second cousin and wanted to get to know her better. If he couldn't have Bill (and today he couldn't) then she was a pretty good second choice.

They ate scones with jam and cream, cucumber sandwiches and tiny mushroom quiches, which Tonks eventually admitted her mother, not she, had made. They poured Earl Grey out of a silver teapot into bone china teacups and did crude, humorous imitations of the stiff table manners of their shared aristocratic ancestors. Afterwards they retired to the drawing room with snifters of best brandy. Tonks kicked her shoes off and lay back on the settee where Bill and Sirius had explored each other's bodies just over a week before.

Their hysterical giggling had subsided and they sat still, calm and relaxed.

Tonks sighed. "The Ormerods have disappeared," she said. "Constance and Edgar. No sign of them for a fortnight. It's happening again."

Sirius gulped at his brandy. He had predicted that it would be like this. They were not a couple he knew. His heart sank nonetheless. Soon people he cared about would start to go missing and bodies would be found in houses with Dark Marks floating over them.

"What's the Ministry's response?" he asked.

Tonks looked over at him warily before replying: "They're going to blame you."

Anger surged through his body, but it was swiftly replaced by exasperation.

"Of course," he replied. "Notorious mass murderer and madman on the run from Azkaban. I've gifted them that, haven't I?"

"Well, at least it's not Harry's fault for once!" Tonks forced a laugh.

"Poor little sod." Sirius shook his head.

Tonks turned her hair black and a lightening scar appeared on her forehead.

"Stop it! That's just disturbing!"

Tonks laughed and changed her appearance. Sirius noticed some grey streaks in her now brown hair. An odd choice for a young woman. It reminded him of someone.

"So, cuz! You know Remus Lupin pretty well, don't you?"

That was who she looked like. She was staring away, towards the ceiling.

"For years. Most of my life. He's my best friend. Why?"

"Tell me about him."

Sirius felt uneasy, but replied, "He's a were-wolf, as you know. He's my age, thirty five, has no money, no dress sense," why was he focussing on the negative? "He doesn't like ketchup, knows nothing about Quidditch and far too much about the Goblin Wars. He's prissy and particular. I mean, what do you want to know? He's a half-blood .." Ooops! His roots were showing. He hadn't meant to sound superior when he said that word. And why mention it? Oh, and Tonks was a Half, too, wasn't she? "Erm, like you. So that's good. Why do you want to know?"

Tonks started to blush before turning her skin black to hide it. Sirius couldn't understand that tightening round his chest.

"You don't think …" Tonks started and then stopped. She sat up and looked Sirius in the eye. "You don't think there's any chance he might like me, do you?" she asked.

Sirius said quickly, "Not his type."

"But I can be any type!" she whined, changing her hair from short and dark, to long and blonde, her skin through a wild array of tones, her nose-shape from cute to Roman to hook. Then she gave Sirius a start by sprouting ginger hair just like Bill's, with freckles to match. Luckily for his sanity, this didn't last long before she morphed into the Pocahontas look. She was making him dizzy.

"It's not just about appearance!" he snapped. What was wrong with him? She fancied his best mate. That should make him feel all warm, not frozen like this. He stood up and looked out of the window.

How could he warn her off without spilling Remus' secret? He had to spare his cousin the heart ache and indignity of falling for a man who wasn't interested in women. But wasn't he? There had been girlfriends before Sirius. He didn't know what had happened since. At one time they had thought that they knew each other inside out. But they hadn't really, had they? After all, Remus had spent a third of their lives believing his supposed best friend capable of horrendous crimes against people they had both cared about.

Sirius sat back down and looked at the young woman on his settee. "I was away for a long time. I don't really know what his type is any more. You're a lovely girl. Why wouldn't he like you?"

She smiled and her hair sparkled with girly pinks and lilacs.

She stayed late and he woke up with a hangover on Monday morning. He was up and dressed by midday, but Bill sent an owl with a message that he wouldn't be able to get away from work at lunch time.

The house became empty and oppressive. Sirius prowled it, hating everything. He could feel the old melancholy starting to descend.

He marched purposefully down to the cellar and climbed onto the top of the mangle. He balanced there carefully and stretched up to open the coal hole, before transforming into a dog and leaping through it.