Cuntreg
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
When Sirius wakes up the morning after Frank and Alice Longbottom’s wedding, there are several thoughts vying for attention in the early morning fog of his brain. I am never drinking again, weddings are utterly insane, and fuck I would kill for cup of coffee right now are discarded, however, when Sirius’s eye lands on five inky-black letters scrawled on his forearm.
Series
- Part 1 of Chocolate Cake
-
Tags
Summary
Sirius’s thoughts are a slow-moving, impending disaster. How he wants to pin Remus up against the cupboards, to crowd him into a corner; how he wants to intertwine their fingers, to brush his lips against Remus’s forehead, his jaw. Instead, he settles for ducking his head and sliding a finger through the belt loop of Remus's jeans—a ridiculous gesture so utterly intimate, even for the pair of them, that he only allows it because he’s just drunk enough.
“Stop stealing my bloody clothes, Lupin.” He says, very quietly.
Remus looks up at him, eyes dark, and murmurs pleasantly: “Better learn to do your own laundry then, Black. Consider it my fee.”
***
It was an impossible thing, living with Remus Lupin--but Sirius was doing it anyway.
-
- Words:
- 31,619
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 220
-
Tags
Summary
Sirius rides a flying motorbike, and snogs strangers in pubs, and strikes moody poses Remus finds irritatingly attractive. But for Remus, who drinks milky tea and wears flannel pyjamas, there's a chasm cracked right down the fault line between wanting and doing.
How he wants, though. How he wants.
-
Tags
Summary
1979: Remus has been away for the Order, Sirius welcomes him home.
(My 2019 HP Kinkfest entry).