Present - In the previous chapter, Sirius hand cuffs Remus to the bed in a plan to keep him from leaving.
Enjoy and review x
I snatched the damp dishcloth from the edge of the sink, furiously squeezing it, drawing grey moisture in between my fingers, before swiping it across the worktop. It was quite curious as to how Molly thought this rag could be used to clean things, taking into account the dark brown streaks I'd just left on the side and the fact that it had the smell of a dirty sock that had been left to stagnate outside in rainwater for a month.
"Stupid, bitch..." I muttered to myself, covering the rest of the worktops with the dirt from the cloth. "This sort of crap is for house elves... ever wonder why we have Kreacher?"
There were so much better things I could be doing in my spare time, doing with my fiancé... doing... in my fiancé...
I smirked, leaning back against the counter and pulling a tea towel from the rack, watching Remus as he bent about to reach for plates. As of late, I hadn't really spent the time to stand and admire his arse from afar, and decided to take The Hag's punishment as a blessing, as it was, well, rather nice. These days, he seldom had the money to buy new trousers, meaning he was currently wearing a pair I'd bought him on his 20th Birthday, that seemed to be firmly holding his behind in a rather depraved manner, intoxicating, persuading me I wanted to as well.
As he reached out further and further across the table to collect a plate, it became ever more compelling to do something primitive and jaunty. So with the dishcloth in my hand, I made a lash at his now unguarded rear, bearing a broad grin when he turned to glare at me with glowing pink cheeks.
"You're gonna die, Black," he hissed, rising and slowly drawing in on me in an all too threatening approach.
Though his tactics of intimidation didn't quite work on the man that had been famed as a child for being -frequently forced into dresses by his quite insane mother- afraid of nothing but those huge chickens with the feathers all the way down their legs that made them look like they were wearing flares; ducking around him and folding my arms with a faint cocky smile. He shook his head and turned away, grabbing the newly named 'dirtying sock' from the edge of the sink to wipe down the table. You'd have thought that my earlier exploitation regarding him and bending over would have taught him not to expose his arse while I was behind him with a towel, but clearly it hadn't.
"Honestly, you've though that all these children had been raised by barn animals," he moaned, scrubbing fervently at the filth on the table.
"Well, judging by Molly's tail, I think they must have been," I grinned, sincerely hoping that the charm hadn't quite worn of yet, the image of Arthur crawling into bed next to her and having a little curly pig's tail pointing awkwardly back at him still amusing me.
"Our kids won't be like that," he dictated, scrubbing more furiously at a dark stain on the table top. "They'll be perfect and beautiful and will be loved by the world!"
I felt my core light up, pleasantly radiating out of my body.
"Kids? As in plural? More than one?"
He gave me a curt nod.
"Oh, Remus, my beautiful Remus! I love you, I love you, I love you!" I called, grabbing his face and pulling him into a full-frontal kiss.
He toppled backwards onto the table, from an awkward jerk of surprise, though it was useful enough, pushing him further up it and crawling above him. I attacked his lips once more in an onslaught of passion, before he politely pushed me away, panting somewhat.
"Siri, honey, what if Harry and the others come down?"
"Darling, I'm not ashamed of what I am. If they find out, they find out. Besides, I want to soil the table Molly eats her food off of..." I grinned, sitting down on him so he couldn't escape.
"We have to eat off this table as well!"
"Yes but we've both had a fair share of each other's bodily fluids throughout the years, so it doesn't really bother me. Now shut up and let me kiss you!"
He nodded back at me, glowing with embarrassment as he lent up to meet in the middle with a bitter sweet touch of our lips, slow, repetitive, comforting; fervour carefully pushing its way forward, to crush into the very rhythms or our lips, of our bodies; hand surreptitiously making its way under his shirt. His head tilted up, exposing his neck, coaxing me to kiss down it, biting against the warm pump of his artery and leaving a dark, red mark in its place.
He suddenly started, knocking me backwards off him and onto the floor.
"Oh, don't stop on my account, I was enjoying it," scoffed the voice of a Weasley twin, as I clambered back to my feet.
"What are you doing down here at this hour?" Remus attempted to reprimand, off the table now but still as wonky and dishevelled.
"Got a problem, kiddo?" I smirked, wrapping my arms around my fiancé's waist and letting a hand run down toward his groin before he graciously pulled it off and placed it at his side.
"No," the boy said, lifting the mug of tea up to his mouth. "But my mother will..."
"But you're not going to do that, are you?" I hissed, moving towards him, presenting a look as hostile as I could muster.
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't... But I might be more inclined if there was something in it for me..."
For a heavy moment, I considered offering him a night with Remus, but came to the conclusion he was probably having enough twincest as it were from the rational thinkings of my mind - if I had an identical twin, I so would! So, reluctantly, I dropped a bag of money into his palm and towed Rems from the room.