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Sirius Black is a fucking tease. He knew full well what he was doing when he put on that black suit, put his hair in a half bun secured with his wand, and then added eye liner to that.
Any single one of these things is enough to drive Remus crazy on its own and the mix is—fuck—it makes him feral in the worst way, and Sirius knows it.
Despite that Remus has been good, so fucking good, all through the ceremony and the reception and the dinner. He couldn't just go and drag his boyfriend away from his best friend's wedding, could he? But he reaches his breaking point when James removes his jacket, prompting all the other guests to do the same.
Sirius shrugs out of his own jacket so fast Remus barely manages to blink, then pauses and smirks at his boyfriend. With careful, methodical movements he opens the buttons of his cuff and rolls it up, baring strip after strip of veiny forearm. Remus would die for these forearms. He wants to run his tongue all over them. The folded bundle of cotton comes to a stop just under the crook of Sirius' elbow, revealing half of the Canis Majoris constellation. That stupid shirt Sirius selected for the occasion of Remus' demise is basically translucent. It lets Remus catch glimpses of the swirls and lines of ink all along Sirius’ arms, chest and back. Remus wants to lick every single one of them. He can't wait another second, or he will burst into flames.
Remus stalks over and basically drags Sirius out of the ballroom. He is sure the whole wedding party notices them leaving in a hurry, but he does not care. Not one bit. It's not like his friends don't know about the two of them.
The first door he tries is locked and the second leads to a smaller ballroom, currently filled with an assortment of tables assembled into a U and an elderly man sitting in the centre.
“Sorry,” Remus mumbles while his bastard of a boyfriend chortles a laugh behind him. Oh, Sirius will so pay for this.
The next door is a broom closet and that’s good enough. The second they are in Remus slams Sirius against the door, caging him in with his body.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growls, and Sirius smirks at him, fluttering his lashes to show his eyelids are still perfectly edged in black.
“What do you think?” Sirius drawls, running a lazy finger down the line of Remus’ buttons.
Remus thinks that Sirius Black is a fucking tease and he can't get enough of him. He crushes their mouths together and brings their bodies flush. Sirius surges into the kiss like he is starving for it and matches Remus lick for stroke. He bites Sirius’ bottom lips and swallows his whine.
Their hands get busy fiddling with buttons that are too small and too stubborn and when they finally give way Remus has to break their kiss and draw back to take in the sight.
It still fills him with wonder that this beautiful, stubborn man wants him—loves him even. Remus is a nobody, he has no family name, no money and a monster lives inside of him. By some miracle, Sirius loves him despite of that—maybe even because of that. It’s a miracle.
Remus loves worshiping Sirius’ body. He has spent hours tracing the path of the two pairs of paw prints with his hands and lips and tongue. They run from Sirius hip bone up the side of his torso to his left pectoral. There, they end with the silhouettes of a dog and a wolf leaning against each other. He loves Sirius muscles twitch beneath his fingertips and he loves the little needy sounds that he makes more than anything else. Tonight, however, he doesn’t have the patience for slow worship. Instead, he dives back to seal their mouth together. Sirius responds happily, eagerly. He slides his hand into Remus’ curls and ruffles them thoroughly as he tugs and draws his fingernails over Remus’ scalp.
“Fuck, Pads, Fuck. Don’t—” He doesn’t even know what he wants to say, only knows that he needs to have Sirius. Already, he looks utterly debauche, his lips are red and kiss-swollen and strands of hair dropping free from the haphazard bun.The bloody eye liner is still there, perfectly offsetting gray eyes that have gone large and dark with need.
Remus slides his mouth down, tracing his teeth over the tendon of Sirius’ neck. He loves the way that makes his boyfriend shiver and arch his neck, vulnerable and trusting and so, so needy.
“Yes,” Sirius groans.
Remus licks and sucks, but only lightly, even though he knows exactly what Sirius wants. “Everyone will see it,” he murmurs against the skin.
“Please, Moony. Please,” Sirius whines, bucking his hips against Remus’.
Who is he to deny such a heartfelt request? His teeth clamp down hard on the soft skin, The resulting moan is downright debauched. Sirius writhes against him and Remus has to hold his hips down or else he will combust.
“I wish I could fuck you right here, right now, up against that door.”
“What makes you think I can't?”
“We don't have—”
Sirius pushes a little packet of lube into his hand and for a second Remus is speechless. He shouldn't be surprised Sirius is prepared for this, but he is. It makes Remus' brain melt that Sirius planned this, put on the suit, drew the eye liner and pocketed the little package of lube with exactly this in mind. With a growl his lips are back on Sirius' and Remus is devouring him like he wants to crawl down Remus' throat. It's not like Sirius has a gag reflex, so he probably could—but no—right now Remus needs to be inside of Sirius in a different way.
He wrenches a hand between their bodies and tears at Sirius’ belt, fights a battle with that blasted button that won't give until Sirius waves him a way and does it for him. With the eternal grace of a dancer he manages to slide his trousers and pants around his ankles in two seconds flat and Remus cannot decide what he wants to do first. Does he want to go on his knees and put his mouth on that beautiful cock that arches upwards and is already weeping for him, or does he want to grin himself against these sinful thighs? Godric, he loves those Quiddicht thighs.
Luckily, Sirius decides for him. He deftly deals with the vexing amount of cloth that is still between them and then hooks his leg around Remus' newly bare thigh.
Remus’ groan is a feral thing, breathless and tight with need. The friction of their hardness sliding together is delicious and he indulges in it. He buries his face in his boyfriend’s neck and thrusts—once, twice, thrice—but then he restrains himself, because he doesn't want to come like this. Not today.
He tears the little packet of lube with his teeth, spits out the corner and drizzles the content all over his fingers and his cock. To the soundtrack of Sirius' gasping breaths and distant laughter from the reception he works to open Sirius up, pressing and sliding first one then two fingers through the tight ring of muscle.
“Fuck Moony. Now.”
“You’re not—”
“Don't care,” Sirius pants. “Want it rough.”
And fuck, if that's not the sexiest thing a man can say then Remus doesn't know. If he weren't already head over heels for this man, he would be now.
“I love you,” he whispers and then he wraps his hands around Sirius arse and hoists him up to the right angle.
“Love you more,” Sirius answers and wiggles his hips until the head of Remus cock catches against his entrance. They both exhale shakily and then Remus lowers his lover down, down, down onto his cock. He should go slower, he really should, but Sirius is digging his fingers into the corded muscle of his neck and Remus is dizzy with how good it feels. With a grunt he bottoms out and instead of shrinking back, Sirius wraps his legs tighter around Remus waist and tries to get leverage against the door—which absolutely isn’t happening.
Holding Sirius up with hips and an arm slung under his shoulders, Remus goes to work, the door rattling behind them as he pounds Sirius into it. Wound up as he is, it feels like he is unraveling at the seams right from the first thrust, but luckily, Sirius isn’t far behind. He sets up a punishing pace, grunting and shoving and digging his hands into skin that grows slick with sweat. Bit by bit, Sirius unravels underneath him, his body languid against the door at his back, pupils blown and head tilted back as he chants Remus’ name.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Remus sinks his teeth into skin, tasting iron. Sirius falls apart with a shout, powerful contraction milking Remus’ cock. He comes hard enough to see stars, but then again, Sirius is a star so that seems only fair.
They stay for a moment like that, Remus buried deep inside Sirius and their stomachs slick with come, and catch their breath. But there is still a wedding going on and a lazy kiss later, Remus regretfully slides out of Sirius and stabilizes him until he has found his feet again. They spell the evidence of their passion away and put their cloth back on.
When they reenter the ballroom, James wolf whistles. Sirius smirks and straightens the collar of his shirt, flashing the mark on his neck. A blazing red flag that tells everyone that this beautiful creature is taken and they better not try anything funny or else they will incur the wrath of a beast.
In short, Sirius Black is a fucking tease and Remus loves him for it.