Knocking Boots
Remus was closing up the pub that Friday, working behind the bar with Dorcas and Mary. he hadn’t seen Sirius since he had left at stupid o’clock in the morning, after what was likely very ill-advised fooling around, and he had thought about it ever since. He found that if he fixated on thinking about Sirius, it left less room for thinking about Gran, or Fenrir, and now those thoughts only surfaced in the dead of night, when Remus was curled up in his quilt and the depth of his sadness threatened to cave his chest in. His waking moments were filled instead with images of grey eyes and pink lips wrapped around the brown skin of his dick, and Remus’ calloused and scarred fingers gripping thick black hair.
It was very distracting.
Work was a good distraction. School half term had coincided with uni reading weeks and the pub was full of uni students who were bristol locals and studied around the country. The monotony of pulling pints and serving drinks and cleaning up acted like a sort of white noise for his brain, and as he got closer to his workmates he found himself more and more in the moment with them, laughing at stupid jokes, revealing anecdotes from his childhood that he hadn’t ever expected to be able to share so lightheartedly. It was- nice, and fun, and easy when he was at the pub, and he was growing to truly love his friends there.
“Look who it isssss.” Mary sang as they were right at the end of close and Remus glanced up to see Sirius leaning against the wall beside the locked door. “Any developments you wish to inform us of, Rem?”
“I wish to inform you to fuck off, MacDonald.” Remus said flatly, turning away from the door. He didn’t know why Sirius was there- but he could guess.
“Touchy touchy.” Mary joked, grinning as Remus emptied out the till and put all the money in the safe hidden beneath the bar.
“Fuck off, Mary.” Remus said again. “What else needs doing?”
“That's it, I think. We can all head out.” Dorcas said, throwing her cloth in the sink and joining Remus and Mary on the other side of the bar.
“Alright lover boy, I’ll see you tomorrow. Dorky, let me walk you home?” Mary said, looping her arm through Dorcas’ and leading her towards the door. Remus said his goodbyes, and waited for them to turn the corner before he left the pub himself.
“Alright?” he asked Sirius, leaning against the wall next to him, rolling a cigarette. “Smoke?” he asked, tucking his one behind his ear.
“I shouldn’t. I quit, for Harry.” Sirius said. “Still crave a fag all the fucking time though.”
“Are we walking home?” Remus asked, pushing off the wall.
“Yeah, we are.” Sirius said. “Harry’s at Ron’s again, so…” he trailed off, biting his lip. His hair was back to its usual vitality, and he was wearing flared 70’s style trousers and a sinfully tight top under a cropped denim jacket. Remus wanted to devour him, and the force of his desire set his fingers trembling as he raised his cig to his mouth, taking a long drag in a futile attempt to calm his frazzled nerves.
They walked in silence for a while, Remus finishing his rollie and rolling another one. He barely smoked on shift and chain smoking on his walk home had become one of the highlights of his day. He saw Sirius eyeing the new one from the corner of his eye so Remus offered it silently, and Sirius took it, bringing it to his mouth and inhaling deeply.
“Fuck, I’ve missed that feeling.”
“Aye.” Remus didn’t know what Sirius wanted. They were nearing their road.
“Come in for a drink?” Sirius asked as their houses came into view.
“Aye.” Remus dropped the end of the cig and stamped it out before following Sirius into the house. The living room looked different without all the decorations. It was homely. The couches were colourful. There was Harry’s artwork hung on the wall, as well as pictures of him at various stages of his life that had previously been draped in wall hangings. Remus sat as Sirius went into the kitchen and reappeared with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
“I have no beer I’m afraid.” he said, pouring Remus a hefty measure. It was nothing like the cheap, vinegary wine that Remus had drunk on nights out during his undergrad. This was clearly expensive. Velvety smooth and rich, and Remus could see it staining Sirius lips an irresistible shade.
“That's right posh.” Remus said, feeling awkward. He was finding Sirius hard to read. He liked to feel in control of these situations.
“Yes, well, I’m a private school boy at heart. I take my wine quite seriously.” Sirius responded, eyes flicking between Remus’ eyes and his lips.
“Look, Remus,” he began, before faltering, picking at the skin around his fingernails.
“Aye?”
“About the other night. I was wondering- would you want to do it again, some time? No strings attached? Just sex. It's fine if not- I would still like to be your friend, and lord knows Harry loves you, but you know, the offer’s on the table.” Sirius’ posture had straightened out, and his head had a haughty tilt to it, all rigid lines and false confidence, clearly bracing himself for rejection.
Remus took a drink as he thought about it. In his experience, the words 'it's just sex’ never ended well, but he wasn’t particularly sure he cared. Fuck it.
“Aye, alright then.” out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius blush. Remus wanted to lick his neck where the skin was turning pink.
“Are you going tae show me your room, then?” Remus asked bluntly. He didn’t see the point in dicking around with red wine if it was ‘just sex’. Wine and chats on the sofa were entirely too romantic for no strings attached and Remus knew his boundaries. He knew how not to get attached. He knew how to be casual.
He hoped.
*
Sirius’ bedroom was both expected and unexpected. Band poster’s lined one wall, and family photos another. His bed was a large four poster, with luxurious linen navy and white sheets. He had two wardrobes and a shoe rack that demonstrated an impressive collection. Remus hadn’t really thought about it before, but it was clear Sirius had money, in a way Remus had never, in his entire life. Sirius had more shoes displayed than Remus had owned in twenty-five years. The perfumes atop his chest of drawers cost a month of Remus’ wages each.
Remus sits on the bed and leans back on his hands. Here, he’s confident. He knows what's about to happen. He knows he’s good at it. He relaxes into that headspace that he used to have while cruising the clubs in Glasgow, or the seedy bars down back alleys in Aberdeen. He never took men back to his- never took his depravity near Gran, so it being Sirius’ space made no difference to how at home he felt. Sirius dithered in the doorway, his arrogant confidence that made him so alluring suddenly gone.
“Come here then, pet.” Remus said, beckoning. Sirius crossed the room and Remus pulled him into his lap, leaning in for a kiss that he took command of. He leant back slowly, sinking into the plush mattress, bringing Sirius with him. His hands rid Sirius of his jacket without their lips parting. Sirius was a good kisser; confident, firm. His lips were soft and he let Remus take control, which was exactly what Remus liked. Remus’ fingers drifted down to work at Sirius’ ornate and ostentatious belt, and he was surprised to find that Sirius was already rock solid. It made Remus groan.
He divested Sirius of his clothes quickly, staying dressed himself, liking the dynamic it created. Sirius was a vision. His pale skin was luminescent against the dark bed sheets and his hips and ribs were covered in ink; stars and moons arced over his sharp hip bones and a set of stag antlers dripping with flowers was tattooed over his heart. Remus traced it with his fingers, brushing Sirius’ nipples in the process, making him gasp and writhe. For all his mouthiness, Sirius seemed content to give up all the reins in bed.
“So responsive.” Remus murmured appreciatively, moving his mouth to Sirius’ neck.
“It's been, mmm, so long. Not since I got Harry, two years ago.” Sirius’ voice was breathy.
“Poor bairn, I bet you’re gagging for it.” Remus whispered into Sirius’ pinkening skin. “I’ll look after you.”
Sirius arched up at that, groaning. Remus smirked, and palmed his dick. Sirius groaned again. He was loud. Remus was used to quickies in club bathrooms, where everything had to be as quiet as possible. Hearing his partner moan felt like a luxury.
“Please, Remus.” Sirius asked when Remus slowed the hand on his dick.
“Shhh,” Remus kissed Sirius again, maintaining the slow, languid pace. He moved so he was kneeling above Sirius, and took both his hands, pinning Sirius’ wrists above his head with one hand. Sirius’ body went pliant under Remus. His mouth was open, his lips red from the wine and kissing. He was the epitome of debauchery, and Remus drank in the sight for a while, using his free hand to gently run his fingers up and down Sirius’ torso, making the other man squirm.
“What do you want, pet?” Remus asked.
“Anything.” Sirius breathed, looking up at Remus with clear, icy blue eyes. “Anything, Remus.”
Remus rolled off Sirius and lay down by his side, using one hand to wank him off and the other to tilt his chin into a kiss. Sirius clearly wasn’t lying about his dry spell, because it took no time at all before his whole body was flushed and his hips were arching up into Remus’ fist, his breathing quickening. Remus bit his lip just hard enough to hurt, and Sirius came, gasping and groaning as he did so, before he collapsed back onto the bed. Remus wiped his hand on this t-shirt and watched as Sirius came down from the high.
“What do you want?” Sirius asked, shifting and beginning to tug on the bottom of Remus’ t-shirt. Without even thinking, Remus batted his hands away, clinging onto the hem of his top protectively. Sirius shrank back a little, and Remus distracted him by fisting his hair. It did the job.
“Suck me off again?” Remus asked, and Sirius nodded eagerly, scrambling off the bed as Remus swung his legs over the side. Sirius knelt in the plush rug, and immediately got to work wriggling Remus’ trousers and underwear down his thighs again, before leaning in. there was no build up like last time, no sloppy kisses to his hips, just straight to it. Sirius seemed more determined this time, maybe it was because he was sober, and could concentrate properly. Remus wasn’t sure, he was too busy seeing stars and cradling the back of Sirius’ head.
It was over too soon, with Remus coming hard, and Sirius getting back up again. His knees were red and indented with carpet fibres and Remus drew him in by the back of the thighs.
“How’s this going to work then? Just come to the pub when you’re free?”
Sirius furrowed his brow. “Yeah, okay. That works for me.”
“Good, good, okay.” Remus didn’t know where to go from here- he couldn’t stay the night. Likely wouldn’t, even if he could. To leave now felt callous, but what else was there to do? They couldn’t talk, talking wasn’t casual, talking wasn’t ‘no strings attached.’
He dithered whilst he re-dressed, watching Sirius don pyjamas and no pants, which almost had Remus ready for a second round. Seeing Sirius also clearly unsure of what to do as he tidied the discarded clothes off the floor made Remus’ decision for him.
“Right, I’ll be off. I’ll see you, yeah?”
Sirius stared at him. “Uh, yeah, okay. Thanks, Remus.” he said, voice hoarse. Remus didn’t understand his reaction, so he just left.