Work Text:
Their new flat was at the top of a building just off Charing Cross Road in the murky, quasi-hidden space between Diagon Alley and Muggle London. It was a lovely set of rooms, all high ceilings and elegantly carved crown molding above polished wood floors and marble countertops. It was also five storeys up a steep, twisting stairwell.
Five storeys Remus Lupin was currently trudging up.
Tonight, he promised himself as he reached the third floor landing. Tonight, he would fill out the paperwork to get their fireplace connected to the floo network, and he would make Sirius finish adjusting the apparition wards, because he was not going to keep making this climb every time he needed to leave the flat. It simply wasn’t tenable.
A thud echoed down through the stairwell, a scraping sound and another dull bang followed closely behind the first. Remus paused halfway up the next bend in the stairs. He wondered which flat the noise was coming from, or if it was coming from their flat. Sirius was home, or at least he was supposed to be. He’d promised to put away the kitchenware and finish unboxing the rest of the books today.
Remus winced at the memory. Sirius had made the promise as a peace offering; his way of apologizing for the fight they’d had the other day about the bedroom furniture. Memories of their argument made Remus wince as he started climbing the stairs again. He’d also apologized for his part in their fight, but perhaps he should make some sort of gesture as well. Maybe he could—
THUMP!
This time the crash was thunderous enough for Remus to feel it in the bannister. It was followed by vicious swearing in a voice Remus knew all too well.
A year ago, Remus would have worried that his boyfriend had dropped a box or broken some plates. Now, his mind jumped straight to worst-case scenarios. He envisioned Sirius surrounded by Death Eaters, their wands raised and forbidden spells on their lips.
In an instant, Remus had his own wand out and he was running, charging up the stairs two or three at a time, praying that he wasn’t right. And if he was, that he wouldn’t be too late.
As he burst onto the top floor, Remus felt his already racing heart leap up into his throat. The front door to their flat was ajar. Remus flung it open the rest of the way, expecting to find his boyfriend fighting for his life against a dozen enemies.
Instead, he found Sirius standing alone in the middle of the sitting room. He had his own wand in hand, and he looked angry enough to cast something Unforgiveable. Sirius’s wand wasn’t pointed at a figure in hooded black robes though. No, it was aimed at something long and cumbrous and utterly gruesome. Remus stumbled to a halt, his own wand swinging to bear on the…the… It took Remus several seconds to recognize that the ungainly thing stretched out in the middle of their sitting room wasn’t some vicious magical beast or deadly spell effect.
It was a sofa.
Without a doubt, it was the ugliest piece of furniture Remus had ever seen. The base color was a violent electric blue, a hue so bright it nearly made Remus’s eyes water just looking at it. Crawling across that backdrop was a garish pattern of cabbage roses in a shade of brownish orange that reminded Remus of vomit splatters or newly scabbed wounds.
“Remus! You’re, er…you’re home early,” Sirius said. He’d gotten over the shock of Remus bursting through the door much faster than Remus had gotten over the shock of the sofa. Sirius hastily put his wand away and stepped between Remus and the sofa, as though he thought he could hide it behind his back. He smiled, but it was forced. Immense frustration and fury hid just behind his bared teeth.
“Yes, I…” For the life of him, suddenly Remus couldn’t even recall why he’d come home earlier than expected. He couldn’t focus on anything except that offensive piece of furniture. “I’m sorry, but what is going on here, Sirius?”
Sirius’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he sank forlornly down on the edge of the sofa. The crusty looking roses seemed to rustle their petals as the cushions sank beneath Sirius’s weight.
“You weren’t supposed to see it like—like this!” Sirius moaned, burying his face in his hands. “I wanted to have everything fixed and perfect before you got home.” He peeked out through his fingers at Remus. “I wanted to surprise you, Moony.”
Remus closed the front door, allowing their noise-proofing spells to take effect before any neighbors could get too upset. He took a few tentative steps into the room, always keeping half an eye on the sofa, as though it might sprout teeth and try to swallow Sirius at any moment.
“Well,” he said, trying to force some optimism into his tone. “I’m certainly surprised. I didn’t know you’d bought a sofa, especially one so…so…”
“It’s bollocks,” Sirius said with a sigh. “You don’t have to try and spare my feelings, Remus. I know it’s repulsive.”
Not yet brave enough to sit down on the sofa, Remus sank to one knee next to Sirius. He reached out, taking Sirius’s hands in his own. Whatever else was going on, his boyfriend was genuinely upset.
“I feel like there has to be a story here,” Remus said. “Is James somehow behind this? Or Peter? Are they pranking us?”
“No, this—” Sirius waved a hand in a gesture that incorporated not only the sofa, but also a coffee table and two chairs Remus hadn’t even noticed yet. “This is all my brilliant idea.”
When Remus had left for work this morning, the sitting room had been empty but for a pair of bookcases pushed up against the far wall and a stack of cardboard boxes. Now they had a complete set of furniture.
The rest of the set wasn’t bad, Remus supposed. What surprised him was that, unlike the bedroom furniture, Sirius obviously hadn’t bought these pieces at the swankiest boutique in Diagon Alley. It was all older and obviously used. The chairs were handsome wingback armchairs upholstered in stately navy-blue velvet, but there were worn patches along the arms and seats. The coffee table was similarly old-fashioned and overly ornate with a glossy stained finish, though its legs had been badly scratched and clawed. The bones of it all matched the shape of the sofa, implying they were of a set, but the color and pattern of that last piece…Really, there were no words.
“Where did you even find all of this?” Remus asked. He tried to keep the amusement out of his voice, because Sirius was obviously distressed, even though the whole thing struck Remus as almost farcical.
“You know that Squib friend of Dumbledore’s who sometimes comes to Order meetings, Mrs. Figg?” Sirius asked. When Remus nodded, Sirius huffed and gestured to the furniture again. “Well, I was chatting with her, Lily and Alice after yesterday’s meeting, and Mrs. Figg mentioned that she was getting some new sitting room furniture today. I asked what she was doing with the old set, and she said I could have it if I helped her move the new things in.”
It was not an answer Remus had expected. He’d still thought the sofa might be part of a joke, perhaps one that hadn’t gone to plan given Sirius’s frustration, but it was difficult to imagine Sirius trading labor for secondhand furniture from an old Squib. Honestly, it was rather endearing. Bizarre, certainly, but endearing and more than a bit funny.
“I wanted to surprise you,” Sirius said again. He looked up at Remus through stray locks of black hair with earnest, almost yearning eyes. “I know you don’t like it here.”
“That’s not true,” Remus protested. “The flat’s fine; it’s perfect.”
Sirius huffed. “Maybe, but you don’t…you don’t like it here, do you, Moony?”
Remus opened his mouth to protest again, but the sharp look on Sirius’s face said he already knew the truth.
Honestly, Remus did like the flat. It was bloody perfect.
That was the problem.
Sighing, Remus looked around him, taking in the polish on the hardwood floors, the high ceilings with their crown molding, and the hallway that led to the spacious kitchen and its marble counters. Beyond that was the bathroom with the deep, clawfoot bathtub that Remus already adored soaking in, and the bedroom with its balcony and its park view.
A place like this was too perfect for someone like Remus. He could never hope to afford a flat like this. Not when he was only working part-time for a magical bookbinder. Especially not when his employer had implied that any more unexplainable absences would soon leave Remus unemployed again. They could only afford this flat because Sirius was paying nine-tenths of the rent along with all of their utility and grocery bills.
“It’s not your fault,” Remus told Sirius. And it wasn’t. Money just wasn’t something Sirius had ever had to think about. He’d grown up rich, then lived with the wealthy Potters for a few years, and now he had a small fortune in his Gringotts vault thanks to his Uncle Alphard. Remus knew he shouldn’t fault Sirius’s easy generosity, but it did make him uncomfortable sometimes. Especially with the flat.
“It kind of is. I chose the flat, and then the bedroom furniture…” Sirius said hesitantly.
Remus winced. Yes, he had been upset when he’d come home two days ago to find that their lumpy transfigured mattress on the bedroom floor had been replaced by an expensive mahogany bedstead along with a matching wardrobe, chest of drawers and two bedside tables.
They had talked about it before moving in together, and they’d both agreed that Sirius would be the one to furnish the apartment. It was debatable whether either of them had anything that could pass for a sense of style, but Sirius had some nominal interest in decorating their flat, so Remus had gladly handed the task over to him.
He really couldn’t complain about Sirius’s choices. The bedroom furniture was handsome enough. It was just…so much money. The silk sheets on the new bed alone cost more than Remus made in almost a month. They’d fought about it, and had then spent their first night in that new bed angry and turned stubbornly away from one another.
They’d both apologized the next morning, Remus for his temper, and Sirius for not considering Remus’s concerns about money, but their second night in the luxurious bed had still been frosty and uncomfortable.
Sirius looked at Remus with eyes reminiscent of a scolded puppy begging to be reassured he was still a good dog. “I hoped if I didn’t spend any money on the sitting room furniture it might even things out. I wanted to show you that I was listening,” Sirius explained. “That I care about your feelings…that I care about you.”
“Oh, Sirius,” Remus said, full of loving exasperation. He wanted to kiss his boyfriend and laugh with him over this whole thing, and tell him how much the gesture meant to him, clumsy and ill-advised though it might have been. Sirius obviously didn’t catch the love in Remus’s tone though, only the exasperation.
“It wasn’t supposed to look like this, I swear,” Sirius said hastily, smacking a hand against the sofa cushion for emphasis. “It didn’t look this bad when I got it from Mrs. Figg. Well, the sofa was still ugly, but it was this pale blue and the roses were sort of peach-colored. I figured with a few simple charms I could change the color and make it solid or striped or something not ugly. Only, well, things went really, really wrong.”
Remus looked at the sofa and winced again at the clashing colors and the malformed roses. “Yes, I can see that,” he said.
“It must have been some mix of the potion I used to get rid of the cat smell and the color changing charms,” Sirius explained. “It all worked just fine on the chairs, but I was only trying to change them a little. When I went to do some stronger charms on the sofa everything just got worse! I’ve tried a dozen spells now. I even tried transfiguring the fabric into some other material entirely, but everything keeps making it worse!”
He sprang up from the sofa and began pacing in front of it, nearly knocking Remus over in his furious haste. “I’m sorry, Remus,” he said, yanking his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to have this nice surprise for you. I wanted to make this place feel like home…”
“Oh, Sirius,” Remus said again. He stood up and caught Sirius as he paced by, pulling him into a hug. They’d both been a bit thoughtless. Perhaps it was the stress of moving, the uncertainty of moving in together. There were bound to be some hiccoughs in the process of fully combining two lives into one flat.
Sirius rested his head on Remus’s shoulder and allowed himself to relax. “I’m sorry the sofa’s rubbish,” he said, the sound muffled against Remus’s shirt.
“It is absolutely hideous,” Remus admitted, “but it was a nice thought, and the rest of the furniture is perfect.”
Remus felt Sirius’s fingers slip up beneath his shirt, skimming lightly along the skin of his back. Sirius sighed, caught somewhere between his earlier frustration and affection. His fingertips traced patterns over Remus’s ribs and spine. Remus could feel him draw the shape of a heart. Now it was his turn to sigh as contentment settled over him like a warm blanket.
“I love you,” Remus whispered almost absently.
Sirius lifted his head off Remus’s shoulder. One of his hands slipped out from beneath Remus’s shirt, coming up to cup Remus’s cheek.
“And I love you too,” Sirius said, leaning forward.
The kiss started sweet and gentle, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Not when Remus’s hands were suddenly in Sirius’s hair, tugging and tangling. Sirius’s hands were back under Remus’s shirt, exploring skin, fingernails scraping lightly along Remus’s ribs.
They stumbled around the clutter of new furniture, a clumsy dance of pushing and pulling at each other mixed with hips thrusting against thighs. Remus had no idea where they were trying to go, if anywhere, because neither of them wanted to break away long enough to pick a direction or destination.
Somehow, with Remus’s mouth on Sirius’s neck and Sirius’s hands grasping at the waistband of Remus’s trousers, they wound up crowded against one end of the hideous sofa. Remus caught a flash of its jarring colors in the corner of his eye, but he chose to ignore it until his knee banged against the underside of the armrest. It startled him more than it hurt, but Remus still jumped back, cursing under his breath.
Sirius laughed, but Remus didn’t hold it against him. Not when Sirius sat down on the edge of the sofa’s offending arm. He spread his knees wide and shot Remus a grin that was almost a challenge. Remus gladly accepted it, moving to press himself between Sirius’s legs, not caring at all when he bumped against the edge of the sofa again.
Cradled between Sirius’s thighs, Remus’s cock pressed against the rounded velour top of the armrest. The friction made him moan as he realized how hard he already was.
“Maybe this sofa isn’t so bad,” Remus said. His voice was already breathy, and he sucked in air before returning his lips to kiss a path down the side of Sirius’s throat. He could feel the vibrations as Sirius chuckled.
“Sure, if you keep your eyes closed, it’s not bad at all,” Sirius replied. His hands ran up Remus’s chest before fumbling with the top button of his shirt. “It’s the perfect height at least.”
“I’ll say,” Remus murmured against Sirius’s skin. Sirius’s legs were wrapped loosely around him, knees pressing against the sides of Remus’s hips as his heels dug in to the backs of Remus’s thighs, trying to pull him impossibly closer. The sofa’s armrest was still solid and soft against Remus’s aching cock and he rutted against it, wanting more, wanting to feel Sirius against him, not this padded velour.
“I love you,” Remus whispered, because it seemed worth repeating. Sirius’s response was to cup Remus’s chin and raise it up for another kiss.
Then, Remus pressed forward, trying to rub himself against Sirius just as Sirius tilted his hips trying to do the same. Weight shifted in ways neither of them had expected.
Remus had a split second to see Sirius’s eyes widen in alarm before his boyfriend lost his balance entirely went toppling backward with a mangled yelp of “shitefuck!” He made a panicked grab to try and catch Sirius, but one of Sirius’s flailing limbs knocked him away.
They both froze for a stunned second before it registered that Sirius had fallen safely onto the sofa cushions. Remus took in the sight of his disoriented boyfriend half sprawled across the hideous cabbage roses. Sirius’s grey eyes were wide with bewildered shock and his legs were up in the air. His kiss-swollen lips still open in an alarmed O, and his hair fanned out messily around his head, tendrils of it almost appearing to intertwine with the sofa’s flowery pattern.
He looked…utterly ridiculous.
Remus tried to hold in the laughter that bubbled up through his chest. His shoulders shook with it, but it was a losing battle as a snort escaped, opening the gates behind it as Remus burst out laughing.
Sirius narrowed his eyes in mock outrage, but a smile was tugging irresistibly at the corners of his scowling mouth.
“Think that was funny, do you?” Sirius asked slyly. He squirmed on the sofa, his t-shirt riding up as he shimmied down a few inches until his hips were flush at the end of the sofa. His legs were still dangling over the arm, and he stretched them out as far as they could reach. It was just far enough for his bare feet to curl around the sides of Remus’s hips. He had no actual leverage in his current position, but Remus went willingly when Sirius bent his knees and used his toes to try and draw Remus closer.
Then he was back where he’d started, his trouser-covered cock pressed against the armrest as Sirius did his best to wrap his legs around Remus’s hips.
“Lean down and kiss me,” Sirius commanded. The devilish glint in his eyes didn’t fool Remus for a second. He could see Sirius’s fingers creeping back to grab the corner of one of the sofa’s throw pillows. If he leaned down now, he was going to get a pillow to the face rather than a kiss.
Well, if Sirius wanted to play games…
Remus let his hands drift to Sirius’s knees. His fingers curled around behind them, only lightly skimming over an area he knew Sirius was ticklish. Slowly, fingers spread wide and palms pressing firm enough for Sirius to feel it all through his jeans, Remus slid his hands along Sirius’s thighs. His chest tilted forward, but he kept his head high, his eyes locked with Sirius’s.
Sirius considered throwing the pillow, Remus could read the temptation toward mischief in his expression, but before he could make up his mind, Remus’s hands had reached his hips. Sirius squirmed as Remus crept just high enough to hook his fingertips around the waistband of Sirius’s jeans. Still moving slowly, Remus inched his hands toward one another, toward the bulge hidden behind the zippered fly of Sirius’s trousers.
Just before he got there, as Sirius was wriggling and groaning, Remus stopped. Sirius lifted his head from the sofa cushion, dazed but imploring.
“Moony, please,” he whined.
Remus smirked. He was fairly certain Sirius was past the point of plotting to start a pillow fight, but he wanted to be sure. He wanted to win without ever having to fire a shot. Adjusting his own stance so he could lean forward more easily pushed Remus’s own cock harder against the sofa’s armrest. He shivered at the delightful pressure as he let his torso drop down until his chest was resting against Sirius’s thighs and his head was mere inches away from Sirius’s cock.
Raising his chin high enough to look Sirius in the eye, Remus smirked.
“It you hit me with that pillow now it’ll probably hurt you more than it will me, Sirius,” Remus warned.
Sirius scowled, but it gave way to a shudder as Remus nuzzled a cheek against the bulge of his erection.
“All right, all right,” Sirius huffed. He let go of the throw pillow, stretching his arms out over his head and wiggling his fingers to prove they were empty. “Just…for fuck’s sake, Remus, please touch me!”
“Of course, love,” Remus said with a grin. Just as eager as Sirius, Remus undid the button on his boyfriend’s jeans before taking the zipper between his teeth and pulling it down.
“Oh Merlin,” Sirius groaned. He’d managed to lift himself up on his elbows so he could watch as Remus tugged his jeans and pants far enough down his hips to let his cock spring free.
Remus was still bent over the arm of the sofa, and, despite the velour stuffing providing delightful friction against his own groin, the position also dug into his stomach and grated against his hipbones. It wouldn’t be comfortable for too long. Which just meant there was no time to waste.
Remus used one hand to steady himself against the back of the sofa. The other he wrapped around Sirius’s hard cock. He ran his fingers up the shaft, swiping his thumb across the already leaking head, before guiding it toward his lips and swallowing Sirius to the root.
Stretched out on the sofa before Remus, Sirius was mewling pleas and curses alike as he writhed enough to make the sofa springs squeak. Sirius’s heels were pressed against the backs of Remus’s thighs again, right beneath his arse, digging in and trying to pull Remus as close as possible.
Remus thrust against the arm of the sofa. It was good, but in the back of his mind, in the one small part not consumed by the taste and feel of Sirius’s cock in his mouth, Remus knew he wanted more than just rutting against the side of the ugly sofa. He wasn’t in a rush though.
Pulling his head back slowly, Remus dragged the flat of his tongue along the underside of Sirius’s cock until the tip reached his lips. Just a light scrape of teeth to make Sirius moan, then Remus bobbed his head back down, tongue twisting as he sucked. There wasn’t much room with Sirius’s tight jeans still clinging around his hips, but Remus managed to work a hand in enough to squeeze and stroke Sirius’s balls.
“Re—Remus, too much!” Sirius hissed, squirming and gasping. It wasn’t said in the same breathy voice that usually let Remus know his boyfriend was about to come, so Remus pulled back, wondering if he’d done something wrong. He’d just looked up to gauge Sirius’s expression and ask if he was all right, when a pillow smacked into the side of his head.
As Remus staggered upright, nearly toppling over the arm of the sofa himself, Sirius howled with laughter below him. He had the pillow clutched to his chest and flashed Remus a familiar grin. It was the sort of smile he always wore when they’d managed to pull off a particularly tricky prank at school.
That smile had twisted Remus’s heart into knots since they were fifteen years old. He couldn’t even find it in him to be mad now. He could sure as hell fake it though. Eyes narrowing, Remus did his best to glower down at his boyfriend, though he was certain Sirius could see the playfulness in his eyes.
“And I suppose you think that was funny, don’t you?” Remus asked.
“Hilarious,” Sirius drawled. One of his hands stroked across the pillow clutched to his chest. Then he reached lower to idly stroke his own cock.
“I should just leave you there to take care of yourself,” Remus said. His words were undermined by the fact that he was already stalking around to the front of the sofa.
“You could,” Sirius replied with the same taunting casualness, “but then who would take care of that for you?” His eyebrows rose as he nodded toward the tented front of Remus’s own trousers.
Remus pounced. The sofa bounced beneath him as he rolled onto Sirius, both of them laughing as their limbs tangled together. Remus ended up caught between the back of the sofa and Sirius’s front.
Somewhere in their playful scuffling, Sirius’s jeans and pants had slipped down past his knees and off one foot entirely. Remus’s shirt had come completely unbuttoned as well. He caught Sirius’s wrists and trapped them against the sofa cushions.
“This is surprisingly comfortable,” Remus said, breathy with laughter and desire.
“Me or the sofa?” Sirius asked as Remus hooked a leg over Sirius’s hips.
“The sofa,” Remus replied with a grin. “You’re prettier though.”
“And you’re wearing far too many clothes,” Sirius muttered as he rubbed his cock against Remus’s trousers. “I’d help you out of them, but my hands are a little trapped right now.” He flexed his wrists, which were still caught in Remus’s grip.
“Are you going to hit me with another pillow if I let you go?” Remus asked, already knowing he’d risk it if it meant getting out of his trousers and feeling Sirius’s cock pressed against his own.
“No more pillow throwing,” Sirius promised with a grin, “but I might bite one if you fuck me properly.”
Remus laughed and released Sirius’s wrists so he could squirm out of his shirt.
Comfy though it was, the sofa was not conducive to an orderly or dignified removal of clothing. They both fumbled with buttons and buckles, tugging at shirts and trousers. Sirius’s jeans wound up hanging over the back of the sofa, while the cushions swallowed one of Remus’s socks when he toed them off. Knees and elbows knocked, and then, as they were collaboratively trying to wrestle Remus out of his trousers, they rolled too close to the edge of the cushions.
Sirius managed to catch himself against the floor with one foot. He even managed to keep his hold on the waistband of Remus’s trousers. Unfortunately, Sirius tilted in a way that sent Remus slipping straight off the edge of the sofa.
It was less of the sudden tumble Sirius had taken over the edge of the sofa’s armrest, and more of a slow but uncontrolled slide off Sirius’s lap, out of the trousers Sirius still had a firm grip on, and down onto the floor. Landing bare-arsed on the rug with a small thump, Remus was already teary with laughter.
“This is going to go down in history as our least coordinated shag ever,” Remus said as he finished kicking off his pants and climbed back up on the sofa to straddle his boyfriend. Sirius rose up to meet him, kissing Remus before pulling him back down onto the sofa cushions.
Sirius still looked almost nonsensical stretched out against a backdrop of scabby roses and electric blue, but Remus didn’t care. Ridiculous or not, Sirius was still the sexiest thing Remus had ever seen.
“We can take this to the bedroom,” Sirius offered, his hands sliding down Remus’s back to cup his arse.
“No,” Remus said, shaking his head as he kissed his way toward one of Sirius’s nipples. “I want you here.”
They both snickered at that for a minute before Sirius’s hands left Remus’s arse and came up to cup his chin and draw him up. The look in Sirius’s eyes was surprisingly solemn.
“I just want you to be happy, Remus. I want us to be happy together,” Sirius said. “If that means getting rid of the bed and sleeping on the floor, I don’t care, as long as you’re sleeping beside me.”
Remus smiled, soft and sweet this time. Yes, Sirius could be thoughtless when it came to money, but he could also be incredibly sweet, and the latter mattered so much more to Remus than the former.
Sure, the sofa was ugly, the bed was too fancy, and their kitchen cupboards were still bare but for three pint glasses nicked from a Muggle pub in Soho, but none of that felt important as Remus lay there with Sirius in his arms.
There would be other arguments, Remus was certain, about money, about the flat, probably about stupid little things neither of them had ever considered before.
But this was his home. Not the flat, but Sirius, wherever he might be.
“I am happy,” Remus said with complete honesty. “I’m happy with you. I’m home with you.”
Sirius’s grin was almost as bright as the blue of the sofa below him. “That’s all I want,” he whispered.
“Oh?” Remus asked, breaking the moment to tease and rub his cock against Sirius’s. “Is that all you want? Because I want to fuck you right here on the ugliest sofa in the world.”
Sirius groaned even as he laughed and pulled Remus back into another kiss.
The dorm room beds at Hogwarts had given Remus and Sirius plenty of experience fucking in close confines. Still, the exact mechanics were different on a sofa. They wound up on their sides. Remus’s back was pressed into the soft back of the sofa again, and Sirius’s back was pressed against him. Sirius had cast lubricating spells on himself and Remus’s cock before promptly losing his wand between the sofa cushions.
Remus pressed two slick fingers into him, shivering in anticipation as Sirius clenched and released around his stroking fingers. Sirius pushed insistently back, drawing Remus’s fingers deeper inside. They both groaned, and Remus buried his face in the curve where Sirius’s neck met his shoulder, pressing kisses to his lover’s skin and whispering half-hysterical encouragement and praise in Sirius’s ear. Sirius kept things simpler as Remus gently fingered him open; he begged for more, more, more.
“Please, Moony, more…”
They weren’t pressed for time though, and it was the most sublime form of revenge for Remus to slowly and softly reduce Sirius to a quivering, pleading wreck desperate for his cock. Only when Remus felt himself getting too close to the edge rubbing his own erection against Sirius’s thigh did he finally remove his fingers.
“Merlin,” Sirius breathed, already sounding winded.
“Not quite,” Remus whispered, “but I’ll keep that fantasy in mind the next time we want to roleplay.”
Sirius shivered as Remus’s warm breath ghosted across the back of his neck. One of Remus’s hands slid across his arse, pausing to teasingly circle his slick hole before sliding down the length of his thigh. When Remus’s fingertips caressed the ticklish spot on the back of Sirius’s knee, he jerked and squirmed, but Remus held him in place, tender but implacable.
Remus lifted Sirius’s leg, giving himself a better angle and more room to maneuver as he aligned his cock with Sirius’s hole.
“Remus, please…” Sirius begged. “I’m sorry for hitting you with the damn pillow, just please fuck me!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be biting that pillow?” Remus asked. His own voice was just as tight and eager as Sirius’s.
Sirius laughed breathlessly. The pillow in question was under Sirius’s head now, and he pressed his face down into it, showily opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into a patch of electric blue velour with a very canine-like growl.
Chuckling against Sirius’s shoulder, Remus gave his boyfriend exactly what he wanted, pressing slowly into him until he was fully seated. He paused then, giving Sirius a moment to adjust, and relishing the tight heat of being balls deep in Sirius.
The narrow confines of the sofa didn’t allow for rough, frantic thrusting, but Remus didn’t want that anyway. Right now, he wanted to make love to Sirius, to show his boyfriend, his lover, his everything, just how much he cared for him.
Remus’s thrusts were slow and deep, and their position on their sides let them share control of both the angle and the depth of how they joined together. Sirius shifted, bending his legs at the knee and pushing backwards, wrapping his ankles around the backs of Remus’s thighs and pushing his arse back, fucking himself on Remus’s cock.
The change opened Sirius’s legs further, which gave Remus better access to slide a hand across Sirius’s hip and wrap a hand around his hard, leaking cock.
“Yes!” Sirius hissed, as Remus thrust forward, hitting his prostrate and squeezing his cock at the same time. “Love your cock, love your hands, love all of you, Remus!”
The words swam in Remus’s head and he wanted to answer in kind, to tell Sirius he was perfect: the perfect lover, the perfectly imperfect boyfriend, the partner Remus wanted to spend the rest of his life with. There was a disconnect between his mind and his body at the moment though, and Remus’s tongue couldn’t form words. Instead, he did his best to show Sirius how much he loved him.
As he thrust deeper, he pressed kisses against the back of Sirius’s neck, not even minding the long black hair that tickled his nose and got stuck in his mouth. He thrust again and again, wringing cries of pleasure from Sirius with ever brush against his prostate and every stroke of his cock.
The bright blue of the sofa and its spiraling pattern of grotesque roses made the whole thing feel surreal. Remus let himself sink into the pleasure of sensation. The weight of Sirius’s cock in his hand, the sweaty press of Sirius’s back against his chest, the soft pressure of the sofa cushions against his own back, the tight squeeze of Sirius’s arse around his own cock.
Everything seemed to blur and fade beyond those sensations and the coiling, tightening pleasure and the love that lurked beyond it all.
“I’m going to come,” Sirius murmured. His head was thrown back, back arched, his eyes squeezed closed, and his face pressed into the pillow. His mouth was open, not quite biting the pillow, but gasping against it as his hips thrust forward into Remus’s hand and back against his cock.
“Do it,” Remus said, finally finding his voice. “Paint this sofa with your cum. I’m going to fuck every last drop out of you.”
That did it. Sirius gave an inarticulate cry muffled by the pillow he buried his face against. His hips stuttered forward as Remus plunged deep into him. Hot ropes of cum shot out over the unsightly roses, painting them pearly white.
Remus kept thrusting, hands pulling Sirius’s hips back. He wouldn’t last much longer himself, not with Sirius clenching and shuddering against him, but he wanted to stay true to his promise and fuck every last drop of bliss out of his lover.
His undoing came when Sirius gasped his name. “Remus!” It sounded like a prayer and an expletive and promise all at once and Remus toppled over the edge. His eyes closed as his hips snapped forward one last time and he came deep within Sirius. The near kaleidoscopic color and patterns of the sofa seemed burned against the inside of Remus’s eyelids, but he didn’t give a damn as pleasure and release swept through him from bowed head to curling toes.
Panting and trembling, they disentangled themselves but stayed close together in the afterglow. It took both of them digging beneath the cushions to find Sirius’s wand and cast cleaning charms. Sirius joked about leaving the cum stains on the sofa, but Remus wrinkled his nose at the thought of stiff, crusty velour.
When they were done, they settled back down together, face to face this time. Remus pressed feather-light kisses across Sirius’s cheeks and nose and carded fingers through his long, sweat dampened hair. Sirius ran his hands up and down Remus’s back until they settled on his arse, tracing patterns and teasing his crack in a way that promised another round once they’d had a time to recover.
Remus felt dreamy and sated. The former sensation was heightened by the pattern of the sofa, which filled his vision, a still-ridiculous backdrop to Sirius’s beauty. Remus nuzzled his chin into the curve between Sirius’s neck and shoulder, hands tugging his boyfriend still closer to him.
“You can buy a new sofa,” Remus said. “I don’t mind…”
“I don’t know,” Sirius replied. “I think this one’s starting to grow on me.”
*
Over the next day, by combining their skills and digging through old textbooks, Remus and Sirius were able to make some progress transfiguring the sofa. It stubbornly resisted any efforts they made to get rid of the rose pattern, but they did succeed in toning the colors down. It was always going to be ugly, but now it was at a tolerable level.
Still, when James and Peter arrived the next evening, they both gaped in shock and horror at the powder blue sofa covered in pinkish-orange cabbage roses. Then they burst out laughing.
“What—what is that?” Peter managed to gasp out, pointing an almost accusatory finger at the sofa. James was doubled over, too busy wheezing and wiping at tears to say anything.
“It’s our sofa,” Sirius said, lifting his chin in a haughty, Pureblood manner that dared anyone to challenge him.
“Did you find it on the kerb or rob someone’s colorblind granny for it?” James asked when he’d recovered enough from his fit of laughter enough to speak.
“He got it from Mrs. Figg,” Remus said, emerging from the kitchen with four cans of ale. “And it’s surprisingly comfortable.”
James and Peter both caught the beers Remus tossed to them. James decided to test Remus’s assertion, dropping heavily to sprawl across half the sofa. He frowned thoughtfully for a moment, bouncing on the cushion before nodding.
“It is pretty comfy,” he admitted. Peter was still frowning at the sofa, but he took James at his word and carefully sat down at the other end. His frown quickly turned into a look of startled delight as he discovered they’d all been telling the truth and the sofa was quite comfortable.
Sirius dropped into one of the velvet wing-backed chairs as soon as Remus handed him a beer. He caught Remus’s wrist before he could take the other chair, pulling him down until Remus was sitting across his lap, legs up over one arm of the chair.
The armchair was far more cramped, but he was instantly reminded of Sirius in a similar position over the side of the sofa. Sirius’s mind must have gone to the same place as Remus’s, because he grinned lasciviously down at Remus before glancing fondly at the sofa their friends were currently occupying.
James was too busy opening his beer to notice, but Peter caught Sirius’s glance and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. A moment later he sprang off the sofa so suddenly he nearly knocked James off as well.
“You had sex on that sofa!” Peter shouted, jabbing an accusatory finger toward the furniture in question. Now it was James’s turn to dive off the sofa, flipping a cushion and almost spilling his beer as he tumbled to the floor and crab-walked away.
Remus and Sirius both burst out laughing.
“Pete, mate, we’ve been living here for almost a week now,” Sirius said quite rationally. “You’d be hard-pressed to find somewhere around the flat we haven’t had sex yet.”