Once, Then Ruined

By Kick Flaw


It was supposed to be a night like any other night. Not for it’s lack of significance, because it was a night that they wanted to remember forever, but for the routine they were holding to. The Marauders had rented a pair of rooms at one of Hogsmeade’s smaller inns, and had planned a post-graduation celebration between just the four of them. A farewell of sorts, one last jaunt through the carefree wilds of their childhood. This was their gateway into something foreign and just a little bit terrifying. No more could they cling to each other and their brotherhood, they were adults now and, as adults, alone in the most primitive of senses.

The time had gone quickly, hours spent in laughter and wandering the streets of wizard and muggle London alike. Now they felt it drawing to a painful close, so close to tossing them out into experience and insecurity. But they couldn’t think of that. This night was theirs to do with what they willed, and they intended to have it as they’d had so many innumerable sunsets in the past. Completely. Innocently.

“Marlene is looking delicious tonight.” Peter said of a particularly busty barmaid, waggling his eyebrows.

Remus chuckled, nodding, and James shook a tolerant head over his mug of butter beer. “You’re engaged, Mr. Wormtail, if I must remind you.”

“Consider it my bachelor party. Mmm.”

“Eh,” Sirius shrugged, “Been there, done that.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “A given. You’ve done every barmaid in this town.”

Some, of course, would claim that they’d never been innocent. Especially the ebon-haired hellion who lounged wickedly, always and ever wickedly, at their booth’s interior right corner. He curled white fingers around his goblet and drank long of the gold liquid held within, lids already at half-mast with the looseness of not-quite-inebriation. Sirius was scouting for another victim, a fling to be the cherry top of his last free midnight, you could tell by his predator eyes.

Eyes, Remus noted, that languorously focused on him when the goblet was set down. From beneath heavy drapes of bangs, they glittered.

/So/ He understood instantly. /It’s me/

Electricity shot up from the soles of his feet into his head and groin and he stared back, equally intense, this was, after all, a moment he’d been awaiting for endless nights, endless nights just like this one, filled with endless dreams. How fitting, that his last night of innocence would be the night he threw it carelessly away. What a perfect way to end his childhood.

James and Peter’s joking voices faded and their forms strayed from his peripheral vision -All he knew was the hooded invitation beckoning in star-dark eyes, the one mimicked exactly in his own. He wondered what his looked like, twin suns perhaps, or pools of honey, bright amber gloss. So much potency, so much weighty breath burdening his lungs, so much that didn’t need to be said. Not children, not anymore.

Sirius stretched languidly, and Remus shivered as a shoeless foot groped his ankle underneath the table. Hidden from view, it played, testing out his calf. Rubbing heel and arch and curled toes into his robe-covered skin. The wickedness was rising, oh, so clear in Sirius’ lowered, lash-laced gaze, sending a slight shudder through his bloodstream. It was happening, he’d always known it would someday -Sirius wanted *him*. Now, after all the others, after James and Lily and the unnamed many, it was his turn.

So much for the dignity he’d planned to maintain when his time came; Remus parted his lips around a silent moan, powerless. How could he be anything but powerless? How could he resist at all?

Smirking, Sirius drew the caress to the crook of his thigh and torso, that swoop beneath his hipbone, heel very gently settling against the burgeoning hardness there. A single undulating stroke and unrestrained lust was clouding Remus’ mind with a haze of abandon. It would be one night, and he’d be one of many, and he’d wake up alone, but he didn’t care. One night was enough for him.

The foot continued its secretive fondling, and their gazes stayed fastened, until, simultaneously, they stood and forced James and Peter out into the isle, Sirius seductively swaying and Remus stiff with control. No words of excuse, no explanations. Just the tables being left behind, the stairs sliding away beneath their gaits, a hall, a creaking door, then, finally, room 3 open before them. Filled with the muffled dinner-chatter of downstairs, but private, it was a haven, a place of lost pretensions.

Remus slammed Sirius against the door, closing it and closing the distance between them in one motion. Their tongues met before their lips did, and when they did it was all heat and wet nipping. Striving forwards. *Meshing*.

Hands entrapping Sirius’ jaw, holding it wide, Remus thrust inside, and sucked the other boy’s tongue into his own mouth. Sirius levered them tightly together by fisting his hands in Remus’ collar, leaning away from the door to delve deep /mmm/ deep. They kissed hungrily, damp smacks, groans, thuds drowning out the same life beyond their mad, *mad* embrace.

“Uh…” grunted Sirius as Remus pulled away and went for the buttons on his muggle jeans. No time, not a moment to lose. Blunt nails fumbled with the unfamiliar clasps, frantic and too-quick, begetting a frustrated frown between blond eyebrows /damn it/. Sirius smoothed the pad of his finger over Remus’ lips, smiling darkly. “Let me.”

The werewolf lifted his hands away and watched, impatient, until the metal button and zipper had come undone, then dropped to his knees and yanked that outlandish cloth clean off slim legs. Sirius’ favorite jap-flaps flew off of his feet with the force of the stripping.

“Jesus…” Was Sirius’ groan, as Remus descended on his cock without hesitation. He swept the head with the tip of his tongue over and over, swallowing *slowly*, inch by inch, only to pull back and sweep again. Delicately, he lapped and licked, teasing, blowing lightly, making Sirius squirm against the thin door. /Always wanted to do this/ Tender -and yet not- fingers massaged the base, a singular bit of constant contact amongst the flirting touches of tongue and lip.

“Fuck…so…uh…” the black-haired wizard tangled his pale hands in the kneeling boy’s hair, like silver buried in gold, unrepentantly *vocal*, “You’re such a…tease…god, want inside, want inside you, fuck, little more, come on, come *on*, honey…”

More than a little coaxed by such spilled words, and the heat they *injected*, Remus pressed his mouth around the head of Sirius’ cock and further, bobbing rhythmically. He could sense the tenseness in the other boy, in his hips, his thighs, his twitching cock, and it riddled him with *thirst*. Hunger. /Taste/ So close. Almost…

“Inside you, so, uh, both ways…inside me, hard, we’ll, honey, honey…*oh*…nnnn….”


Remus licked his teeth, and had just a moment to catch his breath before Sirius hauled him to his feet and walked him backwards to the bed, where he, having been pushed, sat down hard. The mattress bounced beneath him, soft and blanketed in blue, uncanopied. Nothing like the bed that always featured in his dreams, when it was a bed, but that had been left behind anyway. The light was dim and Sirius was *near* and that was all that mattered. He was dizzy; He wanted to be kissed.

Whether or not he asked, he never knew, though suddenly Sirius’ questing tongue was against his. Remus mewled as the flavor he’d sought was caught up and laved away; Sirius crashed to his knees on the floor between Remus’ spread legs, scooping the blonde’s blue velvet robes up to his waist and jerking his breeches and soft boots off, still /wish it were always/ *kissing* him. No, it couldn’t be a kiss, this engulfment, this…consumption. , Consuming, consuming him.

“No…” He gazed down into the sloe-eyed desire of Sirius’ face. “You kissed the taste away.”

The black-haired boy dragged his tongue along his lips. “I like the taste.” Words like harlot, tramp, whore, /*slut*/ sprang to Remus’ mind, spinning in the washing-machine whirl of his senses, undenied because he knew that was exactly what his friend was. That was why he wanted him so, and why he could have him.

Sudden hands gripped his hips, and he arched in rapturous, surprised response as Sirius swallowed his stiff cock all at once, right into his throat. Afraid that if he grabbed that ebon hair, he’d lose control and hold the other boy down while he fucked his mouth *carelessly*, Remus wrapped his hands in the blanket instead, riding out the implosions of overwhelming pleasure as best he could. White cheeks caved in, molding to his cock, such was the force of suction. It was as if he were trying to drain him dry, as if he lived for this alone; up and down, tip to root, again and again, just sucking. One moment Sirius’ nose was *buried* in Remus’ abdomen, the next he was tonguing his purpling head, only to slide down once more. Saliva and over-use made the blue /violet/ eyed youth’s lips red, wet, swollen, and his sharp eyes fogged with glassy wantonness.

/Merlin/ Remus thought, thrusting upwards helplessly. /He’s fucking loving this/

It wasn’t the realization that brought him over the edge of his first, real orgasm, but that certainly contributed. It could’ve been the heat that spurred him, the wavering air, the *worshipful* expression on Sirius’ face, the sensation of the back of the other boy’s mouth hitting his cock, whatever it was, he cried out, and lost control. Grabbing Sirius’ head and shoving in as deeply as he could, Remus shot straight down his unprepared throat.

Sirius came up coughing, choking, with lashes tear-wet around vengeful eyes. Remus was too weak to resist as he was driven onto his back, legs still hanging off the end of the bed.

“Gonna fuck you now.” Sirius growled into the whorls of his ear, hot above him, sending immediate thrills into his spasming veins merely by speaking. Low and fierce, that voice had greater hold over him than even the planes of his muscles as he shrugged out of the rest of his cloths, greater even than those laser-piercing eyes. And, oh, he was *hard* again. /Please/

“Talk to me.” demanded Remus, glaring up as his naked friend crouched over him and efficiently hooked his legs onto his shoulders. He didn’t feel exposed, however, just vulnerable, in the best of ways.

The shadow cast by his hair in the dim light made Sirius’ grin look lawless, like a wound, used and red and angry. He dipped three fingers into a bottle that he’d fetched from his jacket pocket, brought them out slick, and began.

“I’m going to open you wide, make you thrash and writhe and go blind. You’re going to sweat and pant and beg me, honey, darling, I’ll make you incoherent. Wild with sex, until you loose all semblance of sanity. You can’t even *imagine* what it’s going to feel like. It’s going to be so much more than your sweet body can stand. You’re going to die beneath me.”

One long finger slipped up into his body, but Remus hardly noticed, he was so engrossed in the promises issuing into his mind. He couldn’t look away from Sirius’ dark mouth, not even when sparks zapped along his nerves. Dazed, gasping, he understood each sensation, each syllable, and memorized them. He wanted to be able to recount it detail by tiny *detail* on his deathbed. Once, only once, would he know this -he didn’t intend to forget.



“I’m going to pummel you, pound you into the bed and through it, through the floor, through hell and back.”

Another finger, scissoring and shocking. It was cold and not, a violation and a comfort. Loveless, but he wanted it anyway, and that sickened him, though he was sickened more by the fact that he wouldn’t want it quite so much if it weren’t.

“You’re going to scream so hard you won’t realize you’re screaming, pretty.”

Tendrils of ebony hair tickled his cheeks, caught in the sweat bubbling out of his skin. Remus thought he was going to bubble away, seethe and ooze until he evaporated. Three white fingers were stretching deep in him now, rubbing. He couldn’t see, couldn’t think. Yes, he was going to /*melt*/ if he didn’t get fucked soon /damn it/.

Remus wrenched Sirius’ lips down to his violently, stopped the flow of sordid language with his digging tongue; The invasion caused the fingers to be pulled from him, a shift, the distance separating them to become mere centimeters, as Sirius allowed his mouth to be ravaged and left bereft. They paused, panting in each other’s breath. Remus wasn’t ready to release his hold on his enigmatic friend. Just a little more of that mouth, he just wanted, *wanted*…

“Going to fuck you stupid.” murmured Sirius, and then-

-he was.

It was like nothing Remus had imagined -it was so much better and so much /oh my god/ more. A sheer assault on his body. Beyond anything he’d ever conceived. He was filled and taken and *fucked*, right there, blinded and lost to the electric fire between his legs. Sirius was in every cell of his form, permeating him, penetrating him to the core, like some possessing angel or god. A demon. No, the demon was him, and it was howling, clawing at that rippling back, utterly fulfilled for the first time.

The blanket, gray next to the all-encompassing blue of Sirius’ eyes, loosened, sliding back and forth with Remus’ body, a crumpled testament, like the scent in the air and the noises in their throats, to the night. Their night. This night, only.

Virginity long since signed away, Sirius glint-grinned down at him through streaks of swinging ebon hair, a wise and *depraved* creature, more fey than human. Remus couldn’t stop the effervescence of reverence that soaked him. This was not what he wanted, to adore his best friend so deeply, deep enough to take on a twisted sort of deification. Awe, idolatry, worship, how they became him.

Long thrusts became jabs at breakneck, erratic speed, and Remus felt himself dying and being born at the same time. He wished he could see or hear or speak, do anything other than feel, because the feelings were too meteoric, crashing and destructive, because he wanted so *desperately* to memorize Sirius in this moment. The sight and sound of him -a picture to haunt and delight him to his last day. But Sirius had spoken true, and everything was gone from his awareness except that he was being *fucked*.

They fell together, clinging, collapsing in on themselves and on each other.


Slowly, however much time later, reality infiltrated, and Sirius rolled heavily out of Remus’ adoring arms. The werewolf stretched, marveling at the unfamiliar looseness of his body, the knowing languor that graced his bones. He fancied that he moved like his lover now, all slinging, experienced polish. Everything was indefinably different. Even the candlelight that limned his lover’s outline was a personal revelation. Staring unabashedly /I have the right to/ Remus turned onto his side and propped his head on a hand, ever the meticulous observer, and smiled lightly at the ache his movement awakened in his lower back.

Sirius had his arms folded behind his head and his eyes closed, an altogether too self-satisfied smiled tugging up his lips. Naked, and unrepentantly so, he sighed, kicked his legs back and forth where they hung over the end of the bed. In the murky midsummer heat they rested, quiet.

“What does this change?” Remus asked eventually, waking the black-haired boy from his half-drowse.


“Mmm.” /Of course/ He traced a soft finger over his best friend’s /lover’s/ pale arm and noticed, not for the first time, the difference between his own tan, freckled flesh and the unmarred whiteness beneath it. He always sought the sun, comforted by it, just as Sirius sought the shadow, burned so easily by bright rays. Sometimes he thought the sun was all that could hurt the other boy, physically, emotionally, period, and paused at the irony.

“Doesn’t it ever bother you?” Remus found himself asking against his will.

“What?” Blue-violet eyes curved to him quizzically, and Sirius took advantage of his momentary, pondering lapse to unfold his arms and uncramp his muscles with an extended stretch, before relaxing casually.

Remus shrugged one shoulder. “This. All of your one-night-stands that never change anything.”

“I like my one-night-stands.”

“I know, but don’t you ever want something more?” He should let it go, it wasn’t going to get them anywhere, and it certainly wasn’t going to change the promiscuous ways of his negligently sexual friend, but somehow, he couldn’t.

Blinking at him, Sirius replied: “What’s so good about ‘more’. I’d really love to know. Everyone seems to be so hung up about it.”

“I don’t know. Security. Loyalty. Trust.”

“Ah, yes,” A nonchalant finger tickled up Remus’ belly, to the point where his robes had bunched, forgotten, underneath his arms, dragging through the wetness of come still sticking there and dipping between perfect lips in lascivious abandon. What had been satiation unfurled into lazy, swirling arousal deep in the blond’s stomach. “But I have that already. Friends, you know, Pete, Jamsie, you.” Sirius grinned at him.

“What about love?” Remus tried not to shiver as the salacious gesture was repeated and he was obviously ignored in favor of it. /Taste/ “Sirius?” He hitched. “What about being in love?”

“Shut up, Remus.” The velvet-eyed boy slid away from him, scooting up the bed to lean against the headboard amongst fluffy, light-blue pillows. High contrast, Remus discerned, doing as he was told and rolling over onto his front to continue his observation, the downy innocence of the bedding and his nude lover. Corruption.

He kept his gaze tight to Sirius, wondering, and feeling his sluggish lust quicken, as Sirius arched luxuriously, rolling his muscles with a comfortable smile and a soft ‘hmm’ of pleasure. It was almost as if Remus was no longer in the room. Sirius’ head fell back, neck bared, and his hands ran a slow, sumptuous path from those taut tendons down. Over collarbone and chest, fingers splayed across stomach, then hipbone, naked thigh, stroking, all with his eyes flutteringly closed, though Remus knew that if they’d been open they’d be lush and enticing. Sirius bent to cover knee and shin and arch of foot, moaning in this most primal form of self-adoration, so softly it seemed like breath.

The hedonism spun through Remus, a contagious gravity that made him want to devour every inch of the creature before him. He *wanted*. He couldn’t stop *wanting*.

Sirius cupped his ankles, drew his hands up along his calves, caught the backs of his knees with a hiss and pulled. Long legs folded as he lay into the pillows again, spread wide, so open, and Remus shuddered, wishing it were his hands scratching those pink lines down slim thighs. Lightly this time, Sirius trailed up his stomach and chest, flicked his nipples, until he was wrapping his hair in his knuckles, pulling his own head back *brutally* with an undulating groan. A slave to the phenomenon of sex. Remus very nearly came at the sight -he was excruciatingly hard again. How many times? How many ways could he be lost?

“Nnn…” Sirius breathed, completely gone in his world of pillows and visceral sensation.

/Merlin help me/ agreed Remus, but it went unspoken, aching, *aching*.

Still-red lips, that wound of a mouth, opened, swallowing one finger to the last knuckle, and sucked. Hard.

Flashes of earlier snagged the blonde. /Hot, tight, heat, heat, wet, red, contact, mouth, suction/

Having duly enjoyed his play, Sirius split his legs further and reached down to the puckered hole exposed between them. Remus bit his lip, fascinated, as the slick digit circled, pressing gently. So fucking wrong, so fucking *hot*, and it breached. Slid in like it had slid into the black-haired wizard’s mouth, which was now bent around an ‘oh’ of self-induced euphoria.

After a few thrusts, Sirius reluctantly returned his finger to his mouth, sucking in another alongside it quickly. Two pushed up inside of him now, and he used his other hands to grip one knee tensely, hoisting it as far away as he could. Remus could see *everything* *perfectly* down to the slight quivers in Sirius’ cock, erect and gleaming. He was doing himself and it was…it was…Two fingers became three, twisting, harsh, siphoning mewls and whimpers and pants from the wet-mouthed boy. Sirius’ cheeks were flushed, and he was sweating, as he fucked himself on his saliva-slick fingers, in and out, plunging into his greedy channel over and over. Precum oozed out of his engorged cock.

Remus trembled, unable to look away, as always. Merlin, it was so incredibly /dirty/, so vulgar, decadent, and it dimmed his sanity with desire.

Then, Sirius slit open his eyes.

Glazed and dark, they were the epitome of sin. Sex throbbed from them. They were speed and sugar and silk. Everything he’d been taught was criminal. Wicked. *Debauched*.

If it were criminal, god, he wanted a life sentence.

Before he was quite aware of what he was doing, Remus had risen to his knees and shucked his wrinkled robes. Crawling forward between Sirius’ long, sprawled legs to grab the hand that was halfway from one yearning cavern to the next. He stabbed three fingers into that mouth and Sirius sucked them eagerly, unperturbed by the invasion. He’d probably intended it. Shudder after shudder wracked their bodies, and it had barely begun, only intensifying as Remus plundered the slippery digits into his lover’s sleek hole.

Once, like iron, and then he was feverishly forcing Sirius onto his hands and knees, yanking his hips into the air with vice-like, unrelenting hands, shoving into his writhing body.

This was the darkness he kept at bay. This was astounding. And it glittered in his vision, how everything, everything glittered…

Deification. Adoration. Sublime capitulation.

“Oh,” gasped Sirius, muffled into the pillows, “*Oh* fuck, yeah, break me open…want to-want to be *nailed*…”

Remus smashed in over that white, bowing back and snarled: “Keep talking.”

“Uh…uh…” Each thrust wrung a groan and nearly incoherent words out like water from damp cloth. “Fuck me, honey, just, so, right, uh, harder, want you inside me so far I feel you in my throat…come on…uh…”

Sirius thrashed, tearing at the blankets, helpless, his black hair matted with sweat.

“You’re such a whore.” Remus whispered as he bent close to the wild-eyed boy. The words shocked him, unbidden, but oh so right, because he was hurting. A hurt that never seemed to end. /Whore. You whore/ All Sirius could do was moan, fucking back, needing more. *More*.

So the blond lurched backwards, a strong arm hauling his lover’s form up as well, into a position that had them both kneeling, back to front, and Remus lunging into the hungry warmth at the juncture of straddling legs. Limp in exhausted pleasure, Sirius’ head lolled back onto his shoulder, and the ride rolled on.

The room was an ocean around them, boiling from their heat. Remus though incoherently that the entire universe, planets, stars, black holes, had succumbed to their rhythm, that everything, suddenly, was at his angered mercy. And if Sirius was everything, and Remus really believed he was, than it was true. He pressed his jaw to the black-haired youth’s temple, sticky with perspiration, and understood holiness. The night was sacred. They were sacred. Together, in the most carnal of acts, angels, gods, demons, he feared he would dissolve.

“Remus…” Sirius whispered.

“I know.” He whispered back.

How long it lasted, Remus couldn’t tell, and he didn’t particularly care. He never dissolved, but he did explode. He felt his pieces scatter across the universe, disappearing into whiteness, disappearing into the whiteness of Sirius’ skin, never to come together again.

But when he did come together again, dirty in the night, and alone, he felt he had come together wrong.



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