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Sirius really should organise this cupboard.
It was full of mess that didn’t need to be there: boxes crumpling in on themselves, loose debris from all four corners of the house. They should have done it before they moved the new things in, but they had foolishly assumed a baby wouldn’t need much storage, and now Harry’s things were all mixed up with the stuff they had shoved somewhere so they wouldn’t have to deal with it. It wasn’t nice.
Sirius found the little black coat with the squishy hood at the end of the railing, where Remus always left it on Friday evenings. During the school week, when Harry was wearing it every day, it would be placed on the back of Harry’s desk chair for easy access. But when the weekend rolled around Remus would sweep the room for washing and tidy up as he went, and something about that break of time would compel him to put the coat away.
Sirius didn’t really mind, since Remus always left it in the same place, but he didn’t like seeing the mess in the cupboard. It reminded him of a time before Harry. A time when everything was messy. It didn’t fit with the organisation they tried to cultivate in their lives now.
Resolving to deal with it soon, Sirius extricated the coat from its hanger and turned from the cupboard.
Harry was sitting expectantly on the edge of his bed. His trousers were getting too short for him again, but his socked feet were still kicking a couple of inches from the ground.
Sirius smiled at the sight. He placed the coat on the back of the chair and knelt in front of Harry, where he felt his face fall.
“You buttoned your own shirt?”
Harry nodded proudly. “All me, look!”
“I see,” Sirius acknowledged, trying to sound encouraging. “Well done, sprog.”
One of the buttons was in the wrong hole, leaving a gape in the shirt, but it was shallow comfort. Sirius fixed it for him, then reached for Harry’s Velcro-fastened shoes.
“You’re getting so grown-up, now,” he said reluctantly. “Maybe you’re ready for laces?”
Harry shook his head. “No. I like these. No time for laces.”
Sirius laughed, relieved. “Of course. You’re a very busy man.”
He slid Harry’s tiny feet into his shoes, tightening the straps until they settled into the well-worn grooves.
“Boys? Breakfast,” Remus called from the kitchen.
Harry sprung to his feet, nearly falling over in the process. He shrugged off Sirius’ steadying hands, bellowing, “Pancakes!” as he charged from the bedroom.
Sirius stayed kneeling on the floor for a moment. Then he sighed, rising and grabbing Harry’s coat and backpack. He took them into the hall, leaving them by the front door, ready to go.
In the kitchen, Remus was at the stove, and Harry was hopping beside him, tugging at his trouser leg. “Is it pancakes, Moony? You said yesterday, we could have pancakes. You promised.”
“I did, indeed,” Remus confirmed, smiling. He ruffled Harry’s wild hair. “Pancakes are inbound. Go and sit down.”
“Yes!” Harry ran over to the table. Sirius automatically made to help him, but Harry climbed into the chair by himself.
“Did you see that?” Sirius asked Remus.
“Yes. Well done, Harry,” Remus said with the appropriate level of enthusiasm.
Harry beamed.
Sirius huffed under his breath. He went to the cabinet, retrieving Harry’s Snitch-patterned plastic dining set and setting it down in front of him. He filled Harry’s spill-proof cup with pumpkin juice.
“I want tea like Moony,” Harry protested.
“Not a chance, kiddo,” Sirius said.
Remus chuckled. “He could try it. It’s decaf.”
“No,” Sirius said, vaguely surprised by his level of aversion to the idea. “He’s four. Four-year-olds don’t drink tea.”
“I did,” Remus said.
Sirius grinned. He went and wrapped his arms around Remus from behind, rising up on his toes to rest his chin on his shoulder.
Remus leaned into him, tilting their cheeks together. He stilled suddenly, and Sirius heard him inhale.
Sirius didn’t know what had prompted it, but he happily scented Remus in return. He smelled particularly good today. “That’s different. You were a very sophisticated child.”
It took Remus a moment to answer. “And Harry isn’t?” They both glanced at the boy in question, who was currently putting the blunt end of his fork up his nose. “Hm. Point taken.”
“James’ son, through and through,” Sirius said quietly. He felt Remus tense, so he squeezed him tighter. “That cupboard is still a mess.”
“We’ll deal with it soon,” Remus promised. He reached for the big plate they used for serving and started piling the pancakes onto it. “It’s not a priority. We can always use the spare room for storage.”
“I don’t wanna ruin that room, too. We might need it.”
“Right,” Remus said dryly. “For all the guests we entertain.”
Sirius’ stomach fluttered significantly, but he didn’t say anything. He took the pancakes to the table, smiling helplessly when Harry squealed in delight.
Harry worked his way through three pancakes, getting syrup all over his face. It was double what he had been able to eat a few months ago.
Sirius sat at the table and watched ruefully, drinking coffee. He had no appetite this morning. He felt a little nauseous, actually. Like he was under the weather, but more restless. Winter’s chill always managed to sneak its way into the house even around Remus’ excellent warming charms, but Sirius wasn’t cold in his T-shirt and cotton joggers. Meanwhile, Remus was pale in his thick jumper and woollen pyjama bottoms, hunched over his own pancakes. Sirius could feel him glancing his way every so often.
Sirius didn’t even want to get dressed for the school run, throwing his ratty leather jacket on over his T-shirt and stuffing his bare feet into his old boots. The primary school was only up the road, anyway. He still made sure Harry was bundled up well, zipping his coat up under his chin and forcing him into a scarf and bobble hat.
Harry protested and sulked all the way to school, but he soon forgot about it when he met up with his friends, rushing off without even saying goodbye to Sirius. Sirius wasn’t offended, but he lingered by the school gates for a while, watching Harry run around the playground with the Weasley kids.
It was cold enough outside to see breath, but Sirius didn’t start shivering until he was back in the warmth of the house. He kicked off his boots and drifted into the living room.
As expected, Remus was reading in his favourite spot in the corner of the sofa, curled under a blanket. He looked completely absorbed, but he still looked up and smiled when Sirius came in.
“What’re you reading?” Sirius asked.
“Just a Muggle novel,” Remus replied. “See him off alright?”
Sirius grunted, flopping down next to him. “I won’t even need to take him, pretty soon.”
“That’s a while off, yet.”
“Not far enough,” Sirius said without thinking.
Remus looked at him for a moment. Then he marked his place in his book and set it on the side table, turning to Sirius fully.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“Nothing,” Sirius said. Then he shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Feeling a little wistful?” Remus said shrewdly. “Nostalgic for dirty nappies?”
“No. Fuck, maybe? It’s just, I swear he was this big, yesterday. Now he’s climbing up to the table by himself.”
“They grow up so fast,” Remus said flatly. Sirius snickered, despite himself. “Isn’t that good, though? It means we’re doing something right, at least.”
“It is good,” Sirius said slowly. “Obviously, I want him to grow up. Or— I dunno, maybe I don’t. What’s so great about being a grown-up, anyway?”
“I can think of a few things.”
Involuntarily snickering again, Sirius nudged Remus with his elbow. “You know what I mean. Being a kid is being blissfully ignorant. Something as simple as pancakes for breakfast makes your entire fucking day.” He sighed. “I guess I’m thinking selfishly about it. It just makes me happy. Like, sharing that innocence with him.”
Remus was quiet. When Sirius looked up, Remus was watching him with a fond expression.
He felt himself flush a little. “What?”
Remus shrugged a shoulder. “I’d just never have pegged you as a kid person, before.”
“Yeah, well. A lot has changed since before.”
Remus nodded solemnly. He took Sirius’ hand, squeezing. “You’re really great with him, you know.”
“Yeah?” Sirius said, shamefully eager for Remus’ approval.
“Yeah. You’re a natural, honestly. It makes me jealous, sometimes.”
“Don’t be daft. You’re better than me. He loves his Uncle Moony. He’s already trying to follow in your footsteps as a bloody tea connoisseur.”
Remus laughed disbelievingly, but he looked pleased. “I never thought I’d have kids. Since, you know, it just wasn’t on the table for someone like me. I never imagined it would happen some other way. And I certainly never imagined it would be so—” He trailed off, a frown twisting into his smile.
Sirius thought he understood. It wasn’t entirely comfortable to think that raising Harry with Remus was the best thing he had ever done, when it had been borne from such terrible circumstances. It felt almost offensive to suggest there could be anything about James and Lily’s death that wasn’t absolutely awful in every single way, even if rationally Sirius knew it could have been much, much worse. Even if that was what he told himself when it all got too much, and looking at Harry was making it worse instead of better.
Sirius didn’t want either of them to feel morose, so he pulled his legs up and shuffled up against Remus, trying to worm his way under the blanket.
Remus obligingly lifted it for him, draping an arm around his shoulders. Sirius sighed as he melted into him. It sometimes felt like Remus was designed solely to hold Sirius, with his body so soft and solid at the same time, his heartbeat steady and comforting under his cheek.
He smelled amazing, too. Not just his soap and that stupidly expensive fabric conditioner he insisted he needed (because he didn’t trust Sirius to clean his jumpers with magic anymore) but that wonderful, abstract Moony-smell. It made Sirius think of tree bark and tea leaves and crisp, freshly inked parchment.
It made him think of sex with Remus. The particular way that smell would bleed into the delicious tang of his sweat and musk.
Sirius buried his face in the soft wool of Remus’ jumper, drowning himself in that perfectly familiar scent. Smells like home, he thought, and felt himself shiver again. He still wasn’t cold; it was actually stifling under the blanket. His skin felt a little damp, tight, almost itchy.
Remus tensed, and then a palm was pressed to Sirius’ forehead. “Sirius. You’re burning up.”
“M’fine,” Sirius murmured. “You just smell good.”
Remus pulled Sirius up higher on his chest, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. He inhaled deeply, then hummed.
“Thought so. It’s heat.”
“What? No. Not for another week.”
“Trust me,” Remus said. “I know what your heat smells like.”
Sirius groaned. “Fucking hell, really? I don’t have time for this. I’m supposed to help Harry with his Show and Tell.”
“You could’ve taken suppressants,” Remus pointed out.
“Told you, I don’t want to,” Sirius said, stomach fluttering again. “Shouldn’t need to. We’re mated.”
Remus kissed the claiming scar that marred his throat; Sirius’ breath caught. “I see, so it’s all down to me. Never mind that I might have other things to do.”
“Please,” Sirius scoffed. “You’re not tutoring today. And anyway, you always finish your marking the moment you get home, you fucking swot.”
“Still. I might be washing my hair.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sirius laughed, pulling Remus down to kiss him.
He suddenly felt incredibly needy, as though acknowledging what was happening gave it permission to consume him. Sirius didn’t know why his heat was early, but it didn’t actually matter too much, as long as he had Remus. As long as Remus held him close, kissed him deep and hot until he was flushed and frantic, then pushed him down on the couch to loom over him and kiss him some more, Sirius was okay.
But then Remus halted their progression, and that wasn’t so okay. He had drifted back to Sirius’ neck and was now lingering there, sniffing and mouthing at the skin.
“Mm. You smell so good.”
“No shit,” Sirius grit out. He tugged at Remus’ shoulders, trying to get him to lower his body on top of him. “Come on.”
Remus chuckled quietly. “Settle down, love. You know I’ll take care of you. Just let me indulge myself a little longer.”
“No,” Sirius insisted, tugging harder. “Stop being such a bloody tease.”
Remus pulled back, smiling, and Sirius thought that his mate was gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous. Those plump lips, that handsome scar. Those soft, wise, golden eyes. The sandy scruff dusting his jaw had been Sirius’ idea, but it had been a good one; it wasn’t often Remus thought he looked good, but he thought so now, Sirius could tell.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with the beard, and everything to do with the desperation Sirius knew was all over his face and in his scent. Either way, he would count every second Remus spent knowing exactly how attractive he was— how mad Sirius still was for him— as a wonderful victory.
“Take me to bed,” Sirius demanded.
Remus’ smile gained an edge. “You looking to get tied together?”
“Yeah.” Sirius could feel himself growing wet at the thought. “Need you, Moony.”
“You need me to knot you,” Remus clarified.
“Yeah,” Sirius breathed.
Remus hummed. “So you need me to make love to you, until I fill you. Then you need me to keep you full. Keep my cock buried deep inside the wet, warm mess I’ve made of you.”
“Moony,” Sirius said helplessly, awed as always by Remus’ mouth. He did such a good job of affecting the appearance of a mild-mannered professor, Sirius thought, nobody would ever guess he spouted such poetic filth when they were fucking.
“Do I have that right, darling?”
Sirius drew a shaky breath. “Yeah, you got it. Fuck me, fill me, knot me. But—”
He stuttered, anxiety simmering suddenly in his gut. He wanted to give shape to it, this intangible desire that had been lurking with him recently. But that would make it real, and that was dangerous, because what if Remus didn’t—
“But?” Remus prompted.
“I want. I mean, maybe we could—” He cut himself off with a noise of frustration.
“Sirius,” Remus said fondly. “You know I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Well, maybe you won’t want it.”
“If it will make you happy, then I absolutely will.”
The words reassured Sirius a little. “Just, I thought maybe we could… skip the protection spell.”
Remus’ eyes widened. “Oh.”
“You know, maybe it doesn’t have to be off the table,” Sirius continued in a rush. “Maybe you can have— maybe we can have a— not that Harry isn’t family, but it would be, you know. Ours.”
“Yeah,” Remus said. “Is this why— I mean, have you been thinking about this for a while?”
Sirius initially wanted to shake his head, before he thought about it. The first time he had forgone suppressants for something other than his innate resistance to any form of denial, or his sly desire to rile up Remus’ Alpha. The first time he had felt that implicit sense he was doing it with purpose.
That was a while ago, he realised.
“I think I must have been,” Sirius admitted. “But I guess Harry growing a lot recently made me, you know. Think about it more.”
“You know all babies grow up eventually, right? They don’t stay small and cute forever.”
“I know that,” Sirius said impatiently. “It’s not about that. I do want him to grow up, really. I just… I dunno. I think about it, and I want it. A kid that looks like us. A sibling for Harry. I mean— come on, Moony, have you really never thought about it?”
Remus was quiet. He looked— Sirius didn’t know how he looked. His eyes were glassy, like they got when he was thinking, or looking at Sirius. But his mouth was dimpled, like it got when he was worried, or disapproving.
Sirius’ heart sank. “You don’t want to.”
Remus shook his head. “Sirius, I love you. You’re my mate. How could I not want that with you?”
Sirius exhaled. “Then it’s just the wolf.”
Remus laughed weakly, a hint of bitterness in it. “Just the wolf? You know there’s no just about it.”
“You’ve survived. You do fine. More than fine.”
“I’ve been incredibly lucky.”
“Our kid would be lucky, too,” Sirius argued. “It wouldn’t be like our shitty childhoods. They would be raised in our home. Grow up fucking loved, and accepted, and everything else we never had.”
Remus’ expression softened. “We couldn’t protect them forever.”
“We can’t protect Harry forever, either.”
The statement hung heavily between them.
“True,” Remus admitted. “But he already exists. If we do this, I’m essentially condemning an innocent child to a life of hardship.”
Empathetic as he was, Sirius couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You’re being dramatic. It probably won’t even be a wolf. And even if it is, it will be okay. We’ll deal with it, the same way we’ve always dealt with it. Nobody’s life is perfect. Everybody has shit to deal with. By that logic, nobody should breed.”
Remus shook his head again, but he was smiling now. “Maybe they shouldn’t. Not with the world the way it is right now.”
“It looks pretty good from where I’m standing,” Sirius said, stroking Remus’ fringe back from his face. “Are you that miserable?”
“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” Remus said, in an odd voice, like he didn’t know where the words were coming from.
Sirius’ lips twitched into a smile that felt at once fragile and fierce. “Me too. And if we can manage it, after all the shit we went through? Then anybody can, surely?”
Remus looked at Sirius, almost reverently, for a long time. Sirius waited, heart in his throat.
Finally, Remus drew a slow breath. “Okay.”
“Yes?”
Remus looked vaguely terrified, but his eyes were shining. “Yes.”
Sirius couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah? You’ll knock me up? Put your pups in me?”
“For God’s sake,” Remus sighed, but Sirius didn’t miss his flush. “I regret this already.”
Sirius kissed him around his grin, but things didn’t stay playful for long. Something about knowing what they were about to do— what Remus was about to do to him— had Sirius rapidly overwhelmed, far beyond what his heat usually did. His heart raced ahead of him, and he was panting into Remus’ mouth, already stiff and slick in his flimsy joggers.
He sprawled his legs open as much as he could on the sofa. He needed to feel Remus’ weight between them, feel how he was hard for Sirius. He needed to know Remus wanted this just as badly as he did. His tugging was edging on violent now, fingernails snagging in Remus’ jumper.
Mercifully, Remus finally listened. Sirius sighed with relief as their bodies flushed together, reassured by the solid weight of Remus’ cock, but it quickly wasn’t enough. Sirius ached to feel it inside him, pushing in where he was already so wet and sensitive, stretching him wide open. Remus had an unusually large cock, especially considering the rest of him was so slight, lanky marvel that he was. Sirius would love and worship Remus’ body whatever it looked like, but he couldn’t help the primitive thrill he felt, knowing he was going to be so full.
He wrapped his legs around Remus’ narrow waist, grinding their hips together. The friction felt good, but the clothes chafing between them was maddening. When Sirius tried to get them naked, his hands didn’t seem to want to cooperate, and that was even more maddening. Heat had never made him this useless before.
“Get our clothes off,” he pleaded with Remus. “Need your skin.”
Remus made an agreeing noise. He sat up just enough to pull off his top layer and peel Sirius out of his T-shirt. Sirius immediately started groping for Remus’ lovely scarred skin, but Remus took his wrists and pressed them to the sofa cushions above his head.
Sirius groaned through gritted teeth, but Remus just shushed him. He dipped his head to mouth at the ink decorating Sirius’ chest. Sirius huffed and squirmed, but he was pinned, unable to resist Remus’ hot, wet, teasing tongue. It dragged over his collarbone, dipping into its hollows, tasting the sweat that was starting to gather there. A whine was pulled out of him when Remus sucked on his nipples, back arching of its own volition.
When Remus nosed back into the crook of his neck, he bared his throat instantly, instinctively.
“That’s it,” Remus murmured under his ear. “Good boy.”
The praise drove Sirius wild, had him flushing from head to toe. He tugged his wrists against Remus’ hold and was hit with another wave of that feeling when Remus growled in warning, animalistic and almost unbearably sexy.
God, Sirius loved him like this. Pure, unrestrained Alpha. It was worth enduring heats every month, just for this. Remus was never shy or hesitant— he liked being in control— but he was never more dominating, more possessive, than when Sirius smelled like this.
“Mine,” Remus said lowly, mouthing at the scar he had left on Sirius’ neck when he mated him those three years ago.
In an ideal world, it would have happened much sooner; Sirius had been Remus’ since basically the moment they met. But the war had taken its toll, stolen time from happiness and given it instead to worry and doubt. If it hadn’t been for Harry—
It didn’t bear thinking about. Though Sirius suspected he would find the reason he was so fixated on this now, if he did.
“Yours,” he agreed shakily. “All yours.”
Remus made a satisfied noise. He inhaled deeply against Sirius’ throat, then laughed a little, breathless. “Merlin, Pads. I wish I could explain how good you smell. How you smell like mine. It makes me feel… dangerous. I honestly think— if anybody ever tried to change it, or tried to hurt you, I’d rip them apart.”
“Oh, God,” Sirius choked. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Remus breathed. Then Sirius felt his teeth sinking into the scar, and the world faded out as he became a dismantled collection of sensation.
For a dizzying second, he thought he might actually come. Heat rushed through him and his cock jerked against his belly, twitching in a puddle of precome. His joggers felt abruptly soaked, stuck to his thighs, clinging in the cleft of his clenching arse. He heard himself making noise, gasping for breath.
By the time Remus released him, his throat was raw, inside and out.
“Remus,” he managed. “Fuck me. Please.” His body felt cavernous. A vast, slick, empty space that needed Remus to fill it. He couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before, like he might die without it. “I can’t— I need you now, please.”
“Alright, love. It’s alright.” Remus’ voice was strained, slightly hoarse. He slid his hands underneath Sirius’ back, encasing him in his arms. “Wrap yourself around me. Arms and legs— that’s right, just like that. Now hold on tight, okay?”
At Sirius’ nod, Remus hauled them both upright, clambering to his feet with Sirius clinging to him.
Sirius already knew Remus was deceptively strong— there was a layer of lean, Lycan muscle woven beneath his slender exterior— but it still left him breathless. It was thrilling in an entirely primal way, to be hefted around like he was nothing, carried to the bedroom to be fucked.
Remus walked slowly but surely, big hands grasping Sirius’ thighs, hard stomach rubbing teasingly against Sirius’ cock with every step. They were both breathing hard when he finally laid Sirius down on their bed.
Remus’ hands betrayed his own impatience as he divested them both of their remaining clothes, tossing them carelessly aside before crawling between Sirius’ legs. Sirius spread them eagerly, reaching for him, but Remus remained upright. He slotted his hands under Sirius’ knees and pushed his legs back without ceremony, tilting his hips up, exposing him.
Sirius had to moan, because Remus really was fucking incredible like this, casually exerting his control with his strong hands and long, looming body. Sirius’ eyes raked over him greedily, until they landed on Remus’ cock, huge and flushed and predatory between his legs. It was too heavy to curve up against his stomach, instead stuck straight out, bobbing obscenely when Remus moved. The base was already slightly thickened, a hint of the knot that was going to swell inside Sirius and lock them together, keeping him full of Remus’ come, until—
Until he breeds me, Sirius thought wildly, shuddering. He’s going to breed me, and I want him to.
He couldn’t stop thinking it, and it was the heat, but there was also a part of it that wasn’t. A part that was stitched into the scars of their old wounds, eking out into the space of the home he and Remus had built together.
There was so much space left inside these walls. So much love left to fill it with, even after four years pouring it into a child they were never supposed to raise. A gift they couldn’t ever have anticipated. A phoenix from ashes.
Sirius knew he was greedy, wanting that again, but he didn’t care. The world had made him selfish. The world was selfish, and cruel, and unfair.
But Remus had made him want to live in it, anyway. Remus had shown him how good it could be.
Overwhelmed with awe and need, Sirius stretched his arms up above his head, tilting his head back to bare his tender throat. Pleading with his body, because he couldn’t find adequate words.
“God, look at you,” Remus breathed. He ran a fingertip through the slick coating Sirius’ hole and made a hushed, reverent sound. “You’re soaked. You want this so badly, don’t you?”
Sirius managed a nod. “Don’t you?”
“Yes.” Remus sounded almost surprised by it. “Yes, I really do.”
Sirius’ heart swelled, until it was thudding almost painfully against his sternum. “Please.”
Remus nodded too, like something had been irrevocably decided. He took his cock in hand, rubbing it back and forth in Sirius’ cleft, smearing the slick over his length. His eyes fixed on Sirius’ face as he eased it into him, other hand on the back of his thigh to hold him still.
Remus always did this slowly, carefully, especially if he hadn’t loosened Sirius with his fingers or tongue first. But this time, there was no need. Even with how tight Sirius was, there was no resistance, no pain. His body welcomed Remus inside it eagerly— as though it knew neither of them had reached for a wand first— greedily swallowing every substantial inch of Remus’ cock until his bony hipbones were flush against Sirius’ arse.
Sirius squirmed, cheeks burning. He wasn’t ashamed (Remus would die before he let him feel that way) but it was a lot, all at once. How easily his body gave, the significance of that, and this; he was so fucking full, and Remus had him pinned with his eyes, reflecting it all back at him.
Sirius had never felt closer to him in his entire life. He suddenly couldn’t fathom that there was still space between them.
“Come here,” he pleaded.
Remus didn’t need telling twice. He hooked Sirius’ calves behind his back and sunk down onto his elbows, so they were chest to chest. Sirius whimpered as he was folded in half; Remus swallowed the sound in a heated, messy kiss.
“You feel incredible,” he whispered against Sirius’ lips. “You feel so right.”
“You feel fucking huge,” Sirius breathed back, and Remus groaned into his mouth, the kiss turning dirty, wet. He rocked his hips, gentle, but he was in so deep and angled so well that Sirius shuddered violently, clutching at Remus’ back. “Oh fuck. Moony.”
Remus drew back further, pushed into him harder, building a steady rhythm. Sirius flushed even hotter at how smoothly Remus’ cock slipped in and out of him; he was so wet he could feel it dripping down the backs of his thighs. Yet Remus still managed to feel immense inside him, still generating friction with Sirius’ hole stretched so wide, clamped tight and clinging hungrily to Remus’ length.
“Does it feel good, love?” Remus purred, kissing at Sirius’ jaw. “I need you to feel good.”
Sirius almost wanted to laugh. He was pretty sure Remus knew how good it felt. It wasn’t by accident that the length of his cock was dragging against Sirius’ prostate on almost every stroke. Orgasm was already beginning to build in his gut, but now that Remus was inside him, Sirius knew, implicitly, that he wouldn’t come until Remus knotted him.
He slid his fingers into Remus’ hair, cradling his head, keeping their faces close as Remus moved inside him. “It feels fucking perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” Remus told him roughly. “You’re going to look so perfect.”
Sirius inhaled sharply, realising what he meant. “Yeah?”
Remus nodded, strands of his fringe tickling Sirius’ face. “You’ve always been so beautiful. I still can’t get over it. Can’t believe you chose me. But to see you like that? So full of me— full of our child—” He cut himself off with a gasp.
Sirius was still reeling from the words when Remus gathered him up and rolled them over, pulling Sirius into his lap with his legs wrapped around Remus’ waist. Sirius moaned, first from being manhandled, then from sinking down onto the full length of Remus’ cock.
“Ride me,” Remus urged, breathless. His arms wound around Sirius’ waist, supporting, encouraging. “I want to see you.”
Sirius exhaled shakily. Remus’ cock felt somehow even bigger like this, seated so deeply inside him, his own weight keeping his arse flush against Remus’ thighs. The pressure against his prostate was almost too intense to bear; his own cock was quickly drooling precome against Remus’ stomach, adding to the sticky mess already between them.
He rocked his hips slowly, groaning at the stretch of his hole, the ache it sent twinging through his thighs and up his spine. He clutched at Remus’ shoulders as he began a clumsy rhythm, fingernails scraping skin with every shocked gasp, every whiplash-jolt of pleasure.
Sirius didn’t realise his eyes were squeezed shut until he felt Remus’ hand fumbling at the back of his head, fingers hooking into the elastic holding his bun in place. It was already loose, so Remus easily tugged it free, letting Sirius’ dark hair tumble down around his shoulders.
When Sirius’ eyelids snapped open, Remus was staring hungrily back at him, only a slither of gold remaining around his blown, black pupils.
“Gorgeous, Sirius,” he growled. “Gorgeous and all mine, so wet for me, taking my cock so well. God, I love that you want this with me. I’m going to claim you all over again, mate you completely, let everyone see how much I love you.”
“Yes,” Sirius moaned helplessly, tossing his hair back off his face. “Yes, Remus, please.”
Remus’ large palms slid down to grasp his arse, pulling Sirius down as he pushed up to meet him. Sirius could only cling to him as they rocked back and forth, thighs trembling, heels digging into the small of Remus’ back. His heart was in his throat; he was wrapped around Remus in every way, their skin stuck together, no air left between them.
He pushed his hips down and felt Remus’ knot, suddenly, swollen against his hole, and it was like every facet of Sirius’ being fixated on it, began dying in want of it.
“That,” Sirius gasped. “Fuck, that, I need—”
“What, love?” Remus panted against his mouth. “What do you need? You know I’ll give you everything you ask for, beautiful creature, precious thing—”
“Knot me,” Sirius begged mindlessly. “Fucking— fill me, come in me. Breed me, Remus, please—”
Remus moaned, dropping his head heavily into the curve of Sirius’ shoulder. His grip on Sirius’ arse tightened, roughly pulling his cheeks apart, forcing the knot into him on the next upward thrust.
They both jerked and shuddered as the downstroke caught, and their ends claimed them both at once, as though the realisation they were locked together was a truth too intense and wonderful to resist. Remus’ teeth sunk once more into Sirius’ scar as his cock swelled inside him, and Sirius came so hard it struck him that he’d never felt complete before it, descending into a shaking mess of blinding euphoria.
It seemed like a really long time before he floated back into semi-consciousness. He found himself slumped in Remus’ arms, cheek smushed against his sweat-damp hair. Their torsos were sticky with Sirius’ release, but Remus was still coming, heaving ragged breaths as his hips rutted erratically against Sirius’ arse.
Sirius groaned as Remus’ knot tugged at his sore hole, his body clamped down around the thick pressure of it, keeping him stretched open and sensitive. It was almost too much, bordered on painful.
But he could feel the wet warmth Remus was pumping into him, and that heat seemed to seep slowly throughout his entire body, overwhelming him with a profound sense of contentment. He moaned weakly, abruptly boneless.
Remus huffed as Sirius sagged heavily against him. “Alright, sweetheart. Hold on.”
He tipped them carefully back onto the mattress, settling Sirius on his back with Remus on top of him. Sirius sucked a breath as the knot rubbed inside him again, clenching reflexively around it, sending frizzles of pleasure through his frayed nerves.
Remus grunted too, his cock still pulsing, but the sensation was muted now. Dulled by how full he must be, Sirius realised, and exhaled against a swell of sudden emotion. He clutched at Remus with arms and thighs, like he was terrified he would leave, despite knowing that was physically impossible right now.
“Shh, it’s alright,” Remus soothed. “Here.”
He pressed his cheek to Sirius’ messy hair, so his neck was stretched out over Sirius’ face. Sirius scented him gratefully, immediately calmed by Remus’ comforting, intoxicating smell.
Mate, his body whispered. Mine. Safe.
He pawed at Remus’ head with clumsy hands, and Remus kissed him dutifully, arms still wrapped tightly around him, apparently unconcerned with the come and sweat sticking them together.
“You were amazing,” he said when they pulled apart. He swept Sirius’ hair back from his face, pressing a kiss under his jaw. “So good, so beautiful. I love you.”
“I love you,” Sirius echoed, voice thick in his throat. “So much, Moony. Feel so fucking good.”
Remus dragged his mouth down Sirius’ neck, over the scar. It was still throbbing from Remus’ teeth. Sirius tensed, but Remus was just nosing at him, breathing shallowly. He drew back for a moment, then inhaled more deliberately.
“You smell different.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm. Like when I mated you, but… thicker. Richer.”
“Do you think it’s—” Sirius started, but cut himself off, flushing.
“Too soon to tell,” Remus said softly. “But it is different.” He scented Sirius again, then hummed with satisfaction. “You smell like me.”
“People are gonna know,” Sirius realised.
“Yes,” Remus confirmed lowly. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Sirius’ scar. “That’s how everyone will know you’re mine. Because when they see you so full, and how gorgeous you are, they’re going to want to know who did that to you. They’ll smell me on you, and inside you. And then they’ll know— they can’t ever have you.”
Sirius shivered, flushing harder. He hadn’t let himself really consider it before, but now, with the weight of what they had just done settling, his mind was flooded with thoughts of himself growing heavy under Remus’ possessive gaze.
He clenched involuntarily around Remus’ knot, pulling a sharp inhale from them both. It was still far too thick for Remus to pull out of him, and Sirius revelled in it. He almost resented the come he could feel leaking out around it, like it was purposely stealing precious points from their chances.
Still, he was stuffed so full, the odds had to be good it would take.
The idea made him giddy. He held Remus tighter, squeezing his thighs around his waist. Then he pulled Remus into a kiss when it wasn’t enough, trying to pour all his joy and excitement into it.
Finally, he just said out loud, “I’m so fucking happy we did this.”
“Me too.”
“No regrets?”
Remus hesitated, but he spoke before Sirius could panic. “No. Honestly, I think I’ve wanted this for a while, too.”
“Really?”
Remus nodded tentatively. “I just didn’t think it was something I could have.” He smiled as he looked at Sirius with those golden eyes, bright and soft again. “Thank you. For convincing me I was wrong.”
Sirius smiled helplessly back at him. “Talking you into it, more like.”
Remus shrugged. “Tomato, tomahto.”
Sirius laughed, suddenly bemused that this was ever a question. Maybe it wasn’t his place to say how Remus should feel about his condition, but in the fifteen years Sirius had known him, he had never once thought Remus’ life wasn’t worth living. He would kill anybody who even suggested that. For all Remus’ handwringing, his lamentations of monsterhood, he had never managed to make Sirius believe his existence was anything other than a wondrous gift from Merlin himself.
“It’s gonna be great,” Sirius said.
“It’s going to be hard,” Remus said sensibly. “Like Harry was. Is.”
“But also great,” Sirius insisted.
“Hm. Man is not truly one, but truly two, I suppose.”
“Whatever that means.”
It took longer than it usually did for Remus to soften enough to slip out of him, drawing forth a torrent that drenched the sheets, leaving Sirius feeling intensely empty. Remus’ fingers drifted down to play with his sloppy, pliant hole, which was arousing enough that Sirius was already considering the second round, when his stomach grumbled abruptly.
Remus stilled. “Hungry?”
“Yes,” Sirius said, leering at him.
Remus rolled his eyes. He pulled away and got to his feet, holding out a hand. “Come on. You didn’t have breakfast.”
Sirius didn’t protest, letting Remus tug him up and charm him clean. His heat felt strangely muted now, enough that his renewed appetite was the more pressing concern. It usually took a couple of days for the intensity to subside that much.
His stomach fluttered; he spread his palm over it, letting it linger there.
He caught Remus watching him, and felt himself flush. “After I eat, can we clean out that cupboard?”
“Absolutely,” Remus promised.