#nutmas 2022

[fruitcoops]

Spark

On the eighth day of Nutmas, fruitcoops gave to you: smut from the firefighter AU!

TW smut (duh)

Name your time.

Tonight?

You better not be on-call tomorrow morning, ‘cause you’re making me breakfast.

Deal.

Remus fisted his hands tighter in Sirius’ jacket, an involuntary moan slipping out when the hand tucked neatly in his back pocket flattened him along Sirius’ front. The apartment did smell a little like smoke—Sirius had sheepishly warned him of that in the car—but it was gentler than the acrid thing he had worried about. More like a candle, warm and inviting. It was the same invitation as Sirius’ soft mouth on his own and the rough palm cradling his face, big enough that Sirius could stroke gently over Remus’ temple and make his knees wobble.

“Bedroom?” Sirius murmured into his mouth.

Remus bit at his lower lip. “Actually, I could go for a glass of water.”

Heavy silence fell between them. “Oh,” Sirius finally said with audible surprise. “Okay, uh, yeah, let me turn the light on—”

“I’m kidding,” Remus interrupted with a light laugh, pulling him back in by the neckline of his shirt. Sirius ducked into the kiss as if on instinct; the thought made him smile as he nudged their noses together. “Lead the way.”

But Sirius didn’t let him go right away, keeping them up against the wall like there was nothing he’d rather be doing. They had hardly made it into the apartment, still frazzled from the charged 20-minute drive followed by a hurried clash of lips in the elevator. Remus could feel the hot, hard line of him on his thigh, just as he had imagined on a few of his lonelier nights.

Sirius was less suave than his daydream-self, not that Remus was complaining—for the shelter dogs, he had stammered out when a large box shifted in the back seat, pink-cheeked and endearing. I bring them toys. Balls ‘n shit. It had taken every bit of Remus’ self-control not to lean across the console and kiss him stupid right there.

Sirius’ hands wandered down to his waist and he began walking Remus backwards through the apartment in long strides. “Ignore the mess,” he said into the underside of Remus’ jaw, sounding just as sweetly embarrassed as before. “My little brother stayed here for a bit.”

“We’re not—ah—kicking him out, right?” Remus bit the inside of his lip as Sirius’ teeth grazed his pulse point.

“No,” Sirius laughed. “He’s with a friend. Nobody but us.”

“Good answer.” Remus tangled his fingers in the back of Sirius’ hair and pulled just enough to make him moan like he had in the car, when they had lunged for each other the moment the ignition died. It had hardly taken any effort to get Sirius to melt under him, then. His mouth watered at the thought of getting to do it again.

“C’mere,” Sirius said around a smile. The hands on Remus’ hips moved down to grab his thighs and hoist him up; he locked his legs around Sirius’ waist instinctively as heat flashed through him.

“Worst way to carry someone out of a burning building,” he managed breathlessly.

“Best way to carry someone to bed,” Sirius countered with a not-so-subtle squeeze of his ass.

Remus arched a brow. “Thought hooking up with a fireman got me the full experience.”

“If you want me to get all sweaty, you’re gonna have to try a little harder.”

“Oh, I will.”

Sirius’ eyes darkened. “Promise?”

Fucking hell. Remus squeezed his thighs tighter and felt Sirius’ groan buzz against his mouth; his lips were getting chapped already when Remus sucked at the lower one. The back of his shoulder collided with the wall and his noise of surprise was muffled by Sirius’ kiss, though a mumbled oh, fuck, sorry and the ghost of a gentle hand over the bump made his stomach tumble.

Sirius took him by the thighs again and Remus let himself be tossed on the bed, only to hook his heels behind Sirius’ knees and drag him down to be kissed some more. He slotted a leg against the half-hard bulge in Sirius’ jeans and savored the noise that spilled from kiss-swollen lips. “You want it like that?” he purred, rocking lightly. Sirius made a choked sort of sound. “Use your words.”

He grinned at the withering look Sirius shot him and laughed as he was wrestled further into the sheets, making sure to buck up whenever possible. Couldn’t make it too easy for him—they hadn’t even gotten to the fun part yet. Remus reached back to yank his shirt over his head and basked in Sirius’ helpless oh, followed by warm hands mapping his torso. Pleasure made his blood sing and he stretched with a low hum, gripping the pillow under him as Sirius rubbed at the dips of Remus’ hips.

“You’re…where has this been?” Sirius managed, sounding baffled beyond belief.

Remus chucked his shirt into the darkness and guided Sirius into a slow, filthy kiss that made his cock throb in his jeans. “Just admit you weren’t looking,” he whispered into the corner of Sirius’ mouth. He felt his knees spread further on the mattress and pleasant heat curled in his belly.

“I was looking,” Sirius answered hoarsely. A shaky breath escaped him when he moved his hand to lay flat over Remus’ stomach. “Not hard enough, apparently.”

“Were you?” Remus asked, delighted. He gave one inky curl a playful tug and Sirius blushed. “Cutie.”

“I am not a cutie.”

“Cutie pie,” he cooed, running his thumb over Sirius’ lips. They parted almost instantly. Thought so. He let Sirius have a taste before sliding it out again and coaxing him down to kiss his neck. He was awfully good at it, after all. “Want me to blow you, or skip straight to the main event?”

“Anything that will get your pants off,” Sirius said, words muffled in Remus’ collarbone.

“That’s where you’ve been looking, huh?”

“Your ass in those cargo pants,” Sirius groaned. His hands slid under Remus and lifted him an inch; the firm grasp on each cheek made him squirm. “Perfect handful. You kill me every time.”

“Someone likes a man in uniform,” he teased.

“Look who’s talking.”

Remus hooked his index finger in Sirius’ belt and pulled. “Off.”

“You know, I usually give the orders,” Sirius said even as he sat up and began unbuckling.

“Sure you do.”

“I do. This is—I’m the captain of my squad. I don’t like listening to people.”

Remus nodded agreeably. “Definitely. Shirt next.”

“This is an exception,” Sirius informed him through the fabric of his shirt, abs shivering as Remus walked his fingers up to his sternum. His cheeks were pink when he finally managed to free himself. He took a breath, then a second, and pointed at Remus. “That’s the last order you’re giving me tonight.”

“Take your pants off, captain.”

Sirius’ hands were already at his zipper when he paused and leveled an unamused look on Remus. “Dirty trick.”

“All I did was ask.” He slipped his fingers into Sirius’ belt loops and yanked him down until they were chest-to-chest again, nudging his crooked nose. He prayed Sirius couldn’t feel his pounding heart. “You seem awfully happy to listen to me. You follow instructions that well for all the boys?”

It took a moment, but Sirius slowly shook his head.

“No?”

“No.” It was hardly more than a whisper.

Remus leaned in to ghost his mouth over Sirius’ stubbled cheek. “Just me, then. Pants off.”

Sirius rummaged between them for a moment before had was able to kick his well-worn jeans away, pressing close enough to Remus’ hips that he could feel the dampness gathering at the tip of his cock through his boxers. “Want me to—”

“Shh.” Remus cupped the side of his face in one hand and watched Sirius’ lashes flutter, nearly brushing his cheekbones. He was so pretty it hurt to look at him, sometimes; between the delicate angles of his face and the absolute tank of his shoulders and thighs, Remus didn’t even know what to do with himself.

But this…this was an interesting development. He had based all his daydreams on what he knew of Sirius: bold, biting, a bonfire ready to smolder on to whoever got close enough. Remus knew he could be vulnerable—had held his hands through more than one bad call—but somehow he just hadn’t expected that to be Sirius in bed.

He found that he liked him even more this way.

He bent and kissed the top of Sirius’ head, just next to his hairline, and felt him shift. “You want to get off on my thigh?” he asked, only half-joking. Sirius made a noise of protest. “Then take my pants off.”

It was like he had told Sirius to unwrap his favorite candy on Christmas. He was up in a heartbeat, clever hands divesting Remus of his jeans faster than he could bark a laugh. “Fucking finally,” Sirius grumbled as he smoothed his hands up Remus’ flanks in a hard push. “Took you long enough to ask.”

Remus didn’t have time to quip back before there was a mouth on the outline of his cock, sucking lightly at the root of him while the breath punched from his lungs. Sirius stroked over his inner thighs for a moment before pressing them apart, giving himself more space to work as he laved his tongue over the slit of Remus’ underwear until the fabric was drenched. Only then did Sirius look back up with mischief in his eyes, teeth teasing at the elastic waistband. “You do want my mouth, don’t you?”

Fuck you, Black, you know I can never back down from a challenge. “You think you’re that good?”

“Oh, Moonpie,” he said, almost sympathetic if it weren’t for the gleam of a grin. “I know I am.”

Remus thudded his head back into the pillows as Sirius licked a broad stripe from his balls to his tip before pulling his briefs away and taking the first three inches of him like it was nothing at all. A throaty moan ripped from somewhere beyond Remus’ consciousness at the sudden, slick warmth—he twisted his hands in the pillowcase and tried not to thrust into Sirius’ mouth. Not yet. Best to let him get adjusted.

Sirius showed no sign of needing adjustment, though, sucking him down with an enthusiasm Remus usually reserved for a popsicle in the dead of summer. He hummed when Remus planted his feet flat on the bed for leverage and lifted him up with the hands on his ass again; the new angle let him go deeper and his mouth fell open when he felt Sirius’ throat against his tip. “Oh my god—”

Sirius dragged him up again when Remus tried to back away, breathing hard through his nose. His pupils were dilated, eyes flashing. It was too much to handle with the riot of sensation vibrating up his legs, so he tilted his head back again and let Sirius take what he wanted.

He was sloppy and yet incredibly precise, a combination that should not have worked and somehow did anyway. His tongue moved with no discernible pattern, but by god did it move. Pretty lights popped behind Remus’ eyes when Sirius’ tongue found the underside of his cock and his hand flew out to wind in his hair again. “Yes,” he begged. “Yes, fuck, Sirius, keep going.”

Sirius made a pleased noise and doubled down. The sound of his mouth sliding up and down Remus’ shaft was unholy and obscene and entirely too perfect. The pressure and suction were just how he liked it—Sirius’ tongue was a menace like this just like when they traded quips—he’d be there if Sirius would just—

Remus sucked in a gasp when Sirius pulled off to suckle at the tip, and on the first press of his tongue to Remus’ slit, he was done for. He spilled into Sirius’ mouth with a bitten-back shout, thighs trembling on either side of his shoulders. “ ‘S good,” he panted when his jaw finally unclenched. “ ‘S really good, Sirius—fuck.”

The fuzziness of his vision crept in around the edges as Sirius kept working him with a softer mouth and a loose hand around his base, as if he was trying to get every last drop out of him. The thought made Remus squeeze his eyes shut. Getting hard again this soon was bound to hurt.

Sirius licked his lips when he pulled away. “Nice boys let a guy know when they’re about to come.”

“…sorry.”

“You’re a paramedic, aren’t you supposed to be worried about my breathing?”

“Off the clock.” Out of my mind.

“Are you just going to lay there all night and make me do all the work?”

“Fuck you,” Remus groaned, batting at the nearest bit of him.

“Other way around.”

“Hmm. No.”

“No?” Sirius laughed. “Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

Remus wound his leg around the back of Sirius’ thigh and flipped them before Sirius could finish his yelp; the bed creaked in protest, headboard shuddering at the sudden weight change. He sat back in Sirius’ lap and looked down at him with an indulgent smile. “Don’t pretend, Sirius. You’re smarter than that.”

Sirius opened and closed his mouth twice before his brows furrowed in indignation. “I’m not pretending,” he blustered, though Remus could feel him starting to squirm. “I told you, I don’t like it when people tell me what to do.”

“You like it when I tell you what to do.” He rocked backwards until Sirius’ cock settled nicely against his crease and watched his throat bob. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said shakily.

Remus nuzzled into his cheek. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you? You want to be good.”

A whine broke halfway out and Sirius’ neck turned blotchy with embarrassment. “Maybe.”

“Yes or no. No ‘maybe’s in a house fire, captain.”

“Yes, please.”

Remus had to close his eyes at the rush of blood southward. He usually didn’t care about positions one way or another, but the plea in Sirius’ deep voice made something in the back of his mind froth at the mouth. He left an openmouthed kiss where he had worked a hickey into Sirius’ neck earlier and tucked his overgrown hair behind his ears. “Give me the lube.”

It was in his hand in half a second.

“Condom?”

“I’m clean, tested last month, a lot of shifts since,” Sirius said in a rush of words.

“Me, too.” They didn’t have to say it—they had spent far too many nights over the past three weeks sharing microwave meals and prime nap spots during the grueling 24-hour calls, past the point of giving a fuck when Leo or James would raise a suggestive brow in their direction. In that way, Remus supposed this had been a long time coming.

Or perhaps a short time coming, he thought as he swiped his fingers over Sirius’ tip, where he had soaked through his boxers.

“Is that for me?”

“Remus, I swear to god,” Sirius said rather desperately.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, scattering a few kisses over Sirius’ face before tugging his boxers away. And, Christ, yeah, he was exactly as delicious as Remus had imagined. Remus had a game plan for tonight already, but he would not protest getting fucked six ways to Sunday with that sometime soon. He wanted Sirius all over him.

He got to have it, too—Sirius remained pliant under his hands as he opened him up carefully, cataloguing every noise that slipped from Sirius’ mouth and every twist of the wrist that would make his thighs tremble. Remus covered him in kisses like he had wanted to do for months, now. By the time he sat up and slicked himself, Sirius inner thighs were thoroughly painted with lilac and plum.

“Oh, fuck,” Sirius panted when he began to press in, handsome face scrunching up at the initial pressure before relaxing into bliss. His knees pressed inward to Remus’ hips, silently urging him on. “Yeah, Re, a little harder—oh.”

Remus buried his moan in the crook of Sirius’ neck as the last few inches of his cock were encased in a vice grip. He ground forward without pulling out and Sirius keened, fingers digging in just below his shoulder blades; he felt the scratch when he repeated the motion and prayed there would be marks to admire.

“Shoulders,” Sirius said, delirious even to Remus’ pleasure-dulled hearing. He made a broken noise when Sirius bit at the crest of one. “Your fucking shoulders. You can lift me.”

“Mhmm.”

“You could—you can lift Kuny?”

“Sure.”

“You could—you—” He whimpered as Remus started up a steady rhythm. “This is so much better than what I pictured.”

Oh, thank god, I’m not the only one. “Tell me,” he requested, though it came out as more of a demand. Sirius didn’t seem to mind as he writhed and bucked into every thrust.

“This,” Sirius said, tossing his head with a gasp when Remus angled upward. Remus bit his lip and aimed for that spot every time, unable to tear his gaze from the smile gracing Sirius’ lips or the flush of his neck. His voice was rough and low, buzzing deep in his chest. “Wanted this so bad. Knew you could do it. Couldn’t ask. Wanted to get my mouth on you forever, wanted you to fuck me until I couldn’t think, wanted you to push me, you always push me, oh shit keep doing that!”

He was burning now, and rapidly building up a sweat while Sirius scrabbled for a hold on his back and smokey moans fell from his mouth with every snap of Remus’ hips. He draped one of Sirius’ thighs over his arm and felt himself pulse at the strangled shout that rewarded him—Sirius was thrashing now, chest heaving, his free leg shaking uncontrollably where it tangled with Remus’ own.

“Sweetheart.” It was out before Remus could think twice. Sirius’ mouth fell open and precome smeared over his lower belly. He cursed under his breath and pushed Sirius’ leg closer to his chest, deepening every thrust until the smack of skin on skin drowned out everything else. “You’re such a sweetheart, I can’t fucking handle it,” he breathed. “All you want is to be good for me, right? That’s what you want?”

Sirius nodded frantically, reaching back to grip the headboard. Outside, the red-and-blue lights of a passing police car flashed over his face in a pattern they both knew too well.

Remus pressed deep and held there, pulling another cry from Sirius as he sucked a mark into the dip of his pec. So many nights spent running from their days at the firehouse, sharing silent understanding under loud laughter and teasing jabs. Sirius got it. Sirius understood. Paramedics had a stereotype as the bicycles of the EMS world—everyone gets a ride—and Remus had never tried to fight that, but he knew this was different than giving the bangin’ firefighter from Station 8 a night to remember. This was Sirius. His friend. His confidant.

“Need it,” Sirius said, voice thick around each syllable. His back arched when Remus thrust forward again, cock twitching where it laid neglected on his stomach. “Need it, Re, need you, please!”

Remus had been wanted so many times that he forgot how good it felt to be needed. The difference was more than he expected. He let out a harsh breath in Sirius’ collarbone and guided his face over for a bruising kiss, tasting his moan. “I’m here,” he said as he nibbled at Sirius’ lower lip and felt him cry out. “I’ve got you, c’mon, come for me. Do it for me, Sirius, you’re my sweetheart—”

The next shout edged on a sob as Sirius jerked in his arms and went boneless, shuddering through his orgasm before Remus could get a hand around him. He seized again when Remus gave him a firm stroke to wring the last of it out, coating his knuckles in white. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he ordered when Remus started to pull out. “Keep going, need it inside.”

The words echoed in Remus’ head as he thrust in a half dozen times and spilled into Sirius with a shattered sound, and then his thoughts went entirely blank.

Sirius was petting his hair when he blinked his eyes open again. He stared at the familiar slopes of a bicep before peeling his cheek off Sirius’ chest; his face heated at the dryness of his lips and the damp patch left behind. Sirius sated expression told him he didn’t mind one bit.

“We’re doing that more,” Sirius informed him with all the confidence Remus had come to expect from him, rolling them onto their sides with a happy hum.

“Oh, are we?” Remus laughed.

“Frequently, in fact.”

“What happened to Mr. ‘I Only Top So Don’t Even Think About It’?”

Sirius stretched like a cat in the sun, looking just as content. “On vacation with the rest of my brain. Remind me why we haven’t been doing that since forever?”

“Coworkers.”

“Different departments.”

“Same calls.”

“Don’t you dare try to talk me out of this.” Sirius gathered him up to his chest with a playful growl. “You’re not going to give me an orgasm like that and then expect me not to keep you.”

Remus froze halfway through biting his collarbone in retaliation. “Keep me?”

There wasn’t a trace of anxiety, or shyness, or any of the endearing awkwardness he had come to adore on Sirius’ face. “Was thinking about it,” he said with a cheeky shrug, running his thumb down the bridge of Remus’ nose. “You’re awfully cute.”

Remus’ heart hammered in his chest. The hope in his gut warmed, oxygen on dormant embers. “Keep me?”

Sirius hesitated, and there was the crease of worry. “If you don’t want—”

“Keep me.” It wasn’t a question anymore. Remus took a shaky breath and laced their fingers together on the mattress between them. “Keep me.”

Sirius’ next kiss was gentle and sugar-sweet. “I can do that.”

[krissumaailmsiin]

Hirmud!

Terve elu on mind saatnud hirmud, millest ei oska mina lahti öelda. Hetkel, sellises vanuses tunduvad need hirmud veidi nagu ülepaisutatud ja mõttetud. Aga olen mõelnud, et igal ühel on hirmud ja see ei ole üldse halb. Kõike asju ei saagi ilma hirmutundeta teha. Aga kui see takistab nii öelda täisväärtuslikult elada, sest kõik otsused mida sa teed on tehtud kaalutlevalt, et kas ikka peaks.

Aga on olemas sellised hirmud, mida tegelikult enne ei eksisteerinud ja neid ei eksisteeri ka pärast seda, kui need on kinnitatud, et neid peagi olema.

Ma pikalt mõtlesin, et kas sellest kirjutada või mitte, kuna see on suhteliselt isiklik, aga samas sellest rääkimine ehk leevendab seda hirmutunnet.

20.12.2021

Meil oli teise trimestri ultraheli, kus saime teada lapse soo. Mul oli tükk tegemist, et selle teadmisega mitte nutma puhkeda, sest selline olen ma koguaeg olnud ja tänu lapseootusele on see palju rohkem võimendatud, et nutma hakata. Aga se pole halb. Aga asja teine natukene varjulisem pool on see, et kuna mul on endal huule- ja suulaelõhe defekt, siis vaadati ka seda, et ega lapsel seda ei esine. Aga kuna laps oli kuidagi nii halvas asendis arsti jaoks, siis päris kindlalt JAH-i sealt ei tulnud, et oleks midagi. Hetkel on ainult.. kahtlus. Mind saadeti järgmine päev kell 9.00 geneetikakeskusesse geneetiku vastuvõtule ja pärast seda uuesti ultrahelisse, et ehk on pilti paremini näha. Istudes ooteruumis - mu süda peksis sees nii kõvasti, et ma hakkasin nutma, sest see oli minu jaoks nii teistsugune olek, teistsugune tunne, mis minu sees oli. Geneetik küsis igasuguseid küsimusi minu kohta, minu elukaaslase kohta, tervise kohta. Ja siis, eneseteadmata, ajas geneetik mulle veidi hirmunahka sellega, et teeme lootevee uuringu. Lootevee uuring aitab tuvastada muid kõrvalekaldeid lapse arengus. Te ei kujuta ette, mis mind sel teisipäeval valdas, need segased-ähmased tunded, pisaratega vaheldumisi. Ma ju tegelikult olin millekski selliseks valmis, sest võimalusi on milleks iganes. Minult võeti lootevee uuring. 2 nädalat pidin ennast pisut hoidma, et mitte üle mõelda. Õnneks see ka õnnestus. Sisestasin endale, et enne ei tasu muretseda, kui asi kinnitatud pole. 4.jaanuar 2022 helistas geneetik ja ütles, et analüüsi tulemus on korras. Milline rõõm! Huulelõhe kahtlus ikkagi on üleval ehk järgmisel ultrahelil saab parem vaate. Ja see mind enam ei morjenda, sest tänapäeval on selle parandamine palju parem kui siis, kui mina sündisin. Ja huulelõhe - kökimöki! Ma ise elan sellega juba 30 aastat ja saan ju hakkama.

See oli selline hirm, mis läks. Aga kuidas hirm halvab su parema mõistmise elust - suhteliselt õudne ja ma ei tahaks seda enam kogeda. Aga ma saan olla nüüd lõpuni nunnu lapseootel  naine edasi ja mõelda, et kui tore on olla, kui pole paha olla vaid näen kuidas ma aina suuremaks paisun! :) 

[fruitcoops]

hi eve, i hope you’re well! would you be interested in writing coops going to a sex shop and buying some toys + then using them later that night? :-) i miss your spicy writing, it’s so good! xoxo

On the seventh day of Nutmas, fruitcoops gave to you: Cap's restraint kink popping off well and true! Charatcer credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for smut, restraint (handcuffs and spreader bar), subspace

Sometimes Sirius needed affection pressed into him with soft hands and kind words and a million sweet kisses left in a starscape over his skin. Sometimes he needed the joy of it, the fun. Sometimes he needed it hammered into him until he could hardly breathe, stripped down to his barest self, out of view of cameras until he was just Sirius. Sometimes they got to figure it out together, and Remus was happy to give it all.

Tonight, a thorough pounding was more than needed.

“No, baby.” Sirius’ next twitch rattled the cuffs binding him to the headboard; Remus gave him a swift swat to the outer thigh and watched precome drip onto the sheets below them as a broken noise slipped from Sirius’ throat.

“Please, please—” A long, drawn-out moan interrupted him, wobbling to the pace of Remus’ grinding thrusts. He didn’t bother pulling out, not when Sirius would start whining the second he was anything less than stuffed full. The bar holding his legs apart had finally warmed to the point where Remus didn’t jump at the sudden cold each time his thighs collided with it, and he planned on taking full advantage of that fact.

“Don’t break this one,” Remus warned as he gripped Sirius’ hips and dragged his weight backward. The spreader bar gave a threatening creak at the center joint, but Remus watched the muscles of Sirius’ thighs ease toward relaxation as he got ahold of himself. It had taken them long enough to find one that would not only fit around Sirius’ thighs but have the strength not to snap when put into practice; they must have looked ridiculous, wandering around half the sex shops in Gryffindor for a solution.

He trailed his fingers along the edge of one soft cuff and tugged it up while his thumb rubbed patterns on Sirius’ pale skin. Sirius’ lower back bowed, pressing his chest further into the mattress and his ass more firmly into Remus’ lap. The next thrust shoved him an inch up the bed and Remus bit his lip at the garbled sound it drew out. “Tell me how you’re feeling,” he said with a lazy pull to the bar. Sirius’ response was muffled. “Nope, try again.”

With apparent monumental effort, Sirius raised himself onto his elbows and looked back over his shoulder. “Très bien,” he panted. Remus found he desperately wanted to bite the trembling muscle of his shoulder blade, where Sirius’ blush had crept down from his neck and ears. It was all too simple like this. He just had to lean over and do it, and he even got a sweet noise in return as Sirius shifted backward to match every deep thrust. “Loup.”

“You said you don’t mind marks, ouais?”

“S’il te plait.” Sirius blinked hard, chest heaving. “Re, please, je besoin—need you, mon coeur.”

“You have me, baby,” he said innocently, then drew back until the head of his cock teased Sirius’ rim before pressing in, slow enough to make those long lashes flutter and his lips part. Remus hoped Sirius could feel him smile into his shoulder. “Every. Last. Inch of me.”

“Oh, merde—”

Sirius cut off with a sharp gasp when Remus slammed his hips forward hard enough to make the bedframe creak—the gasp became a moan, became a shout, became a wail as he stayed buried deep, bracing one hand on Sirius’ sensitive lower belly to maintain the arch of his back and the other on the headboard, roughing him up with a few short thrusts. “Take it,” he reminded Sirius when his knees began to give out and his wrists twisted in their bindings. “You know it feels better when you let go.”

“I d—I do,” Sirius agreed in a shaky voice. “Fuck, uh, Re, coming—”

Remus reached down and squeezed the base of Sirius’ cock just tight enough to stave him off; his broad back seized, hips bucking, but between the bar and the cuffs there was nowhere for him to go. A string of half-broken French expletives poured from Sirius’ mouth before he bit down on the pillow with a furious noise, breathing hard like a rodeo bull.

“That was close,” Remus remarked casually. He traced his fingertips along the vein of the underside and teased at the slit for just a moment; Sirius flushed fever-hot where they were plastered together.

“Fucking let me come,” he snarled.

Remus nuzzled into the short hair above his ear with a smile and a kiss. “Make me take it,” he said, echoing the slight plea Sirius’ voice had held earlier that evening. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart, make me take it until I can’t think. I want to know what it feels like when it works.”

“That was before,” Sirius whined.

Remus gave him a loose stroke and savored Sirius’ moan. “Changed your mind that quick? It hasn’t been that long. Say the word and I’ll take your cuffs off, but I don’t think that’s what you really want, is it?”

“I want to cum.”

“I can make you come. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop when you do.”

They had discussed it that very first night, when the spreader bar sat between them on the bed and Remus watched Sirius’ eyes flicker toward it every few seconds. This is what I want, Sirius had said, pupils dark and wide. I want to know what it feels like to…you know. To let go.

The trust and love in that statement alone had left them both breathless and hot around the collar, and they spent twenty minutes pawing at each other before their gazes strayed to the new toy again. Remus remembered the stampede of his heart when he first cinched the straps around Sirius’ thighs. That bar had been cheaper, made of shitty aluminum that bent in the middle and then broke at the first real clench of Sirius’ legs. They had laughed it off and Sirius had spent the next hour getting railed like he wanted, but within a week they had acquired a second attempt.

Remus felt along the middle joint, satisfied. No bending. No sharp edges. As long as Sirius gave the go-ahead, he had faith this one would survive the night. “Still want to come?”

Sirius shook his hair out of his eyes, unfairly majestic even like this, and quirked a challenging brow over his shoulder. “Still think you can make me?”

Remus bit his mischievous grin into the soft spot of Sirius’ jaw and felt him hum happily at the rolling thrust that followed. Sirius pressed his chest to the mattress again, writhing when Remus splayed a hand over his spine to hold him down. He built up his pace, keeping it erratic in case Sirius got any bright ideas about getting comfortable. Tonight, it was his job to bring Sirius past the point of reason, and he had every intention of fulfilling that wish.

For all his complaining, Sirius reached the edge again rather fast. Remus closed his eyes and let the half-mumbled encouragements wash over him, every yes and more and harder, loup, I need you pulsing in his stomach and cock where he nudged Sirius’ prostate each time. “Don’t fucking stop,” Sirius begged as they tested the lifespan of the bedframe, tossing his head, the dimples above his ass deepening with his arch. Remus’ palm was slick with precome. “Gonna come, Re, Remus, mon amour so fucking perfect—"

Sirius jerked once, twice, three times, yanking at the soft fabric of his handcuffs with a noise at the very back of his throat, something pleased and still desperate as sticky warmth coated Remus’ fingers. It sharpened when Remus kept going without pause, pitching higher for just a moment before tumbling into a shocked laugh as he pulled every last ounce of pleasure out of Sirius.

When the last of his full-body quaking melted into a continuous shiver, Remus pulled out completely and wrapped his hands around Sirius’ narrow hips, flipping him none-too-gently onto his back. He caught the spreader bar when it jolted upward and shoved it flat to Sirius’ trembling abs as he slid back inside him in one quick motion. Sirius’ yelp cracked into a shaky sound when he hoisted one calf over his shoulder to get it out of the way. Remus would drool over those mile-long legs every day for the rest of his life, but they presented a frequent obstacle when he was trying to melt his fiancé’s brain out through his dick.

“Keep that there,” he ordered. The spreader bar clattered in harmony with the thud of the headboard against the wall—Remus tucked his hands into the bend of Sirius’ thighs and pulled him down until his arms were straight over his head, bound tight and leaving him to strain for a grip that remained just out of reach. He hitched his hips up for a thrust that made Sirius’ mouth drop open soundlessly, head falling back into the pillows as he arched like he was being filmed.

Sirius was warm and slick around him, still tightening every few seconds in the wake of his first orgasm. He was beginning to wonder whether he had overestimated his own stamina. Fuck, he was going to come so hard the second Sirius went under the second wave.

“Oh my god,” Sirius said thickly, blinking fast. His legs had stopped twitching, his hands had stopped grasping, his gaze had stopped focusing, all challenge gone from him. His eyes were the color of tarnished silver when Remus found them again, wide and shiny and dark—he was practically folding Sirius in half like that, but Sirius didn’t seem to notice or care as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Oh my god, need—need? Remus. Remus, s’il te plait, baby.”

“You don’t call me that,” Remus laughed, mindful of the stretch of Sirius’ legs as he leaned closer. When Sirius didn’t show signs of strain, he closed the distance to press kisses over his clumsy lips. Sirius’ knee bumped his own shoulder, making him jump.

“I’m—sorry?”

“Non, mon coeur, don’t be sorry,” he whispered. He rubbed over Sirius’ chest, right above his racing heart, then slid his palm down to wrap around his shaft and coax him back to hard. Sirius’ breathing became labored and his eyes drooped from lust-wide to half-lidded, lulled down from whatever crashing peak he had found mere minutes before. Remus worked a love bite into his pec and heard him make a small, relieved sound.

“Don’t be sorry,” he repeated, pressing lightly beneath the head of Sirius’ cock. “Just feel good and let me take care of you.”

“Care of me,” Sirius agreed. His arms had gone lax above his head. The tip of his cock was red and wet, twitching in Remus’ hold. “Feel good.”

“Jesus,” Remus muttered to himself as the pressure built at the base of his stomach with the rhythmic clenching of Sirius around him. “Come for me, baby, you did so good, you’re so fucking gorgeous—oh, fucking hell, Sirius.”

Remus watched cum spill over Sirius’ belly at the same time he gave up on trying to hold back, shoving forward and letting it overwhelm him. He tipped his head back with a hoarse sound, electric in the rush, Sirius’ hip in one hand and his shaking thigh in the other. He licked his lips and tasted salt; his hair was damp with sweat when he pushed it off his face, a weak sound escaping when he finally managed to look down.

The sight of Sirius took the stuttered, shallow breath right out of his lungs.

His face was flushed from cheekbone to jaw, hair mussed in a dark halo. Watchful eyes tracked Remus’ hands as he smoothed them over long legs, though Sirius couldn’t quite seem to keep them open for more than a second at a time between blinks. He was soft against his hip and still; not like a statue, but more like a puppet with cut strings.

“Hey, you,” Remus said quietly when Sirius met his eyes with a confused little frown. “How do you feel?”

Sirius mumbled something unintelligible and turned his face into his bicep with a long sigh. Alright, Remus thought, swiping his wrist over his sweaty forehead. He pulled out with a wince at the oversensitivity and carefully let Sirius’ legs back down to the bed. To work, then.

The leather straps of the spreader bar had left no marks on Sirius’ thighs when he unbuckled them and set it aside, but he rubbed his palms over the place they had laid just in case. Sirius’ approving hum when Remus straightened his legs out told him that was the correct choice. The wrist bindings came off much the same—a light massage cleared any redness.

Sirius curled into him the moment Remus pressed along his side and they rested there for a long moment, coming down from the rush; he ran his fingernails lightly along Sirius’ back until his breathing evened out into the deep, slow rhythm he knew like his own.

He kissed Sirius’ temple and cupped the nape of his neck carefully. “This is what you give me.”

A noncommittal mumble answered.

“You did so good, baby.” A single eye peeked out at him. “Thank you. I know that was frustrating.”

Sirius mumbled again.

“Hmm?”

“Frustrating part was broken things,” Sirius repeated, his accent thick on every word. Remus stifled a laugh at the appraising look he gave the spreader bar at their feet. “Did not break this time. Was good.”

“Ouais, you were.”

Sirius made a soft noise, burrowing closer to his collarbones as his blush faded to a faint pink dusting. One large hand felt around clumsily until Remus was dragged even tighter to him and held there with a little pulse that said stay clearer than any words. Sirius’ breathing slowed, as did his heart rate; Remus felt the moment he drifted off and kissed the crown of his head before settling in to wait.

It took seven and a half minutes for Sirius to reboot. He jerked awake with a sharp inhale, blinking rapidly around them before he found Remus’ face and his expression calmed. Remus smiled. “Bon matin. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Sirius gazed at him for several seconds, then tucked his face into the pillow and stretched until his back audibly popped, going limp with a rumbly noise. “I am so…”

“Happy? Comfortable? Tired?”

“Fucked out.”

“Fair enough.”

Sirius shuffled over to lay most of his weight on Remus’ chest. “Fuckin’—the metal thing works. Wrist ones, too.”

“Good call,” Remus agreed. “You looked great.”

“Felt great,” Sirius snorted, falling back with a soft groan. He scrubbed both hands over his face and a dopey smile spread across his lips when Remus kissed his cheek. “I give you that?”

“You launch me sky-high, baby.”

His smile turned satisfied. “Hmm. Good.”

“You’re gonna want this a lot more now, huh?” Remus teased.

“Just after hard games.” Sirius scrunched his nose and pulled at Remus’ arms until he took the hint and wrapped him up tight. He’d do anything to see that pure contentment painted on Sirius’ face every day. “And press conferences, and before big games, and after I make you dinner, and…” Sirius trailed off and shook his head. “This is good. Like drunk, but better. Like…happy sleep. Naptime.”

“I can make it even nicer,” Remus offered, rubbing his hands along Sirius’ ribs. Interest sparked in his eye, the first sign of anything but foggy bliss. But first…

Sirius’ lips parted invitingly the second Remus’ mouth brushed his own with a muffled noise of pleasure. He was all soft angles now, cuddly and warm even as sweat and cum cooled on their skin. Remus sank into it and let the world fade away.

--

Sirius did, in fact, enjoy a second short nap in the bath while the hot water and Epsom salts soothed their aching muscles. It was the fastest he had ever fallen asleep, dreamless and without hesitation. When he woke, it was to nothing but more kisses, more gentle hands, and more love.

[fruitcoops]

helloooooooo babes, i lovelovelovelove the way you write smut and all your fics in general. it’s like literally me when?? like when is it my turn to be happy😭 anyways, would you be interested in writing smut where coops got into a little tiny/playful argument, and they’re like being kinda stubborn, and not like seriously apologizing because they’re both, as mentioned, stubborn af. and they just have like playful makeup sex and laugh about how stubborn they are?

On the fifth day of Nutmas, fruitcoops gave to you: a combo prompt with praise and stubborn Coops! Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for smut, minor argument (everyone is enjoying themselves very much, though)

“You are so full of shit.”

“Okay, fuck you—”

“Fuck you!”

Sirius smacked Remus’ hand away from the whiteboard with his eraser until he crossed both over his chest with an irritated sigh. “Connard,” Sirius muttered, bending once more to scribble at his plays.

“You know, I do occasionally have good ideas.” When Sirius refused to look at him, Remus flicked the edge of the whiteboard; Sirius cursed under his breath as he erased the skewed line. “This isn’t prime captain behavior.”

“Will you just let me do this?”

“You asked for my help!”

“I asked for your opinion,” Sirius corrected, finally sitting up to spare a moment of his precious time and look at his husband. It was an exasperated look, but a look all the same, and one Remus would count as a win. A good scowl should never be wasted. Sirius narrowed his eyes and poked him in the chest with the capped end of his pen. “Not your help.”

Remus felt a sigh bubbling from the depths of his soul. He shook his head and made sure to bump the back of Sirius’ shoulder with his notebook as he stood. “Oh, fuck off.”

--

So maybe Remus had been a little too hasty in assuming his competitive urges had died out during his years off the ice. And maybe there was a reason his old teammates had given him a wolf-based nickname. But he took a lot of pride in being measured and mild—it had taken quite a bit of time and effort to cultivate.

He loved Sirius, and he was going to strangle him before the day was out.

“I’m just saying, if you let Finn take it up the flank—”

“Oh my god, Remus.”

“You asked for my opinion! This is my opinion!”

Sirius gripped the countertop and took a breath so deep, Remus wondered how he had any lung capacity left. “No.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“An opinion on the play that I showed you!”

“That’s what I’m giving you!” Strangle him. Remus was going to strangle him. If it didn’t take so much effort to get up off the couch, he would’ve done it already. He gestured vaguely with his book and Sirius rolled his eyes. “Did you want me to pretend it was perfect?”

“It is perfect.”

“If it was perfect, you wouldn’t have wanted me to look at it. You know I’m picky about hockey. You love how picky I am.”

Sirius’ forehead creased. “Maybe you’re too picky.”

Remus couldn’t help his bark of laughter. “That’s rich, coming from you. Can you just admit I have a point?”

“Can you just admit you’re wrong?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, set his book neatly in his lap, and folded his hands over it. Sirius’ steely gaze was unyielding. “Explain how I’m wrong.”

“Gladly,” Sirius bit out as he slapped the last piece of deli meat onto his sandwich. “First, the play is perfect.”

“Bullshit.”

“Fuck you. Second,” he continued, holding up two fingers. “If I let Harzy take it up the flank, the defense will net him faster than he can blink. The Badgers don’t fuck around. He’ll get smashed. And third, you’re picky.”

“Come on!” Remus complained as Sirius headed down the opposite hall. “You won’t even let me have a turn?”

“Picky!” was the only answer he got.

--

Arguing with someone who could match him hit-for-hit in stubbornness was an undeniable consequence of dating the captain of an NHL team. Remus really should have seen that coming. Halfway through their third spat of the day, he sent a silent apology to every single one of his teammates that had ever tried to coerce him into…well, anything. Remus knew hockey, loved it, lived it. Unfortunately, so did Sirius.

It didn’t help that Sirius was also brilliant. The play was fantastic: it was tailor-made against the Badgers’ excellent defensive line and highlighted so many of their strengths. If only Sirius would compromise on one tiny thing, it would be perfect, and they could go back to their day without it cropping up ever again.

“You are so goddamn smart,” he snapped.

“Thank you,” Sirius practically snarled.

“So why can’t you see this isn’t going to work for you or get you laid?”

That wasn’t entirely true, if they were being technical about it, but Remus didn’t count the post-lunch blowjob. This is not acceptance, he had thought as Sirius’ hand wound tighter in his hair and drew a muffled moan from him. A trick of the tongue, and Sirius’ knees were buckling under him. Yeah, you’re not the only one with a power play here. It was lucky Sirius didn’t try to come in Remus’ mouth, because he would have spit it back like a camel.

The tension dragged on through the afternoon, past Sirius’ weekly game of pickup basketball with James and the movie Remus went to see with Talker and Leo. “I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal to swap out James with Finn,” he said while they finished the dinner dishes, setting his towel next to the sink.

Sirius tipped his head back and groaned. “I told you, James is better with my passes.”

“And Finn is quicker against defense like that.”

“You can be so infuriating sometimes.”

Here we go again. “I can be infuriating whenever the hell I want to be.”

Sirius opened his mouth, closed it, then took two steps closer and deposited Remus on the countertop, ignoring his indignant squawk. “I’m the captain, remember?”

“Off the ice, you’re my husband.” Remus quirked a brow. “My husband, who explicitly asked for my opinion on a play. Or are you ready to admit you just wanted me to tell you it looked good?”

Sirius’ cheeks turned deep rose. “Did not.”

“I would have done it, if you asked.”

“So you agree that it’s good.”

Remus half-shrugged, swinging his feet. “Sure. But it can be better.”

“Remind me again why I let you stay in my house?”

“You fed me and said nice things to me,” Remus mused, hooking his heels behind Sirius’ knees to pull him closer. “You’ll never be rid of me now. Plus, I cook for you, fix your washing machine, and give you blowjobs in the kitchen. It’s a win-win.”

“You criticize my plays.”

“That was barely a suggestion. If you want real criticism, ask me how I feel about your shirt-folding methods.”

Sirius was grinning already; their noses bumped. “Oh?”

“I will tear you to pieces, Black,” he murmured.

“Promise?”

Remus’ breath caught as Sirius closed the distance between them, sucking at his bottom lip before surging up for more. The back of his head bumped the cabinet and he smiled into the kiss when Sirius’ hand came up to rest over the spot with a soft noise. For once, Remus was taller—he angled downward and groaned quietly at the rush it gave him. Sirius bent and broke so pretty for him in bed, but getting him to bow like a willow was a fine art. He would savor every second he earned of it.

Sirius’ palms were cold from the marble counter when they slipped beneath Remus and hoisted him up; Remus could feel him against his thigh when he locked his ankles around Sirius’ waist. “Look at you,” he cooed, tugging on the back of Sirius’ hair. “Hard for me after just a little kissing.”

His back hit the wall of the living room a little harder than strictly necessary and he bit at Sirius’ jaw in retaliation. “Watch it,” Sirius warned. “I’m not facing the Badgers with a hickey on my face.”

“Says who?”

“Says your captain.”

“Husband,” Remus corrected again, grinning. “No ice.”

Sirius fixed him with a withering look before crushing him into the wall again and Remus took no small amount of pride in the heavy breaths filling the space between them. He knew Sirius loved it when he pushed, knew he was one of the few who would unapologetically fight him until they exhausted themselves. Sirius had always liked a challenge, and Remus would be dead in the ground before letting go when he was right.

“C’mere,” Sirius mumbled when they were red-lipped and panting. Remus didn’t really have a choice in the matter—Sirius kept both hands on his thighs, tight enough to sting in the best way as they moved down the hall. He switched to one hand to rummage through a side drawer for lube before pinning Remus next to the wall by the couch with a knee wedged beneath his ass, a move that should not have been as hot as it was.

“You’re gonna fuck me here?” Remus teased, rolling his hips forward to get some friction on his neglected cock. “Not even on the couch? Lame.”

“You’re going to kill my boner if you keep talking like that.”

“Oh, yeah? Then what’s poking me in the leg right now?” He narrowed his eyes when Sirius raised a brow. “Don’t act like this doesn’t turn you on, baby.”

“My house, my play, you have to be nice to me.”

Remus mouthed along his neck while one of Sirius’ deft hands worked their pants down and rucked Remus’ shirt up around his ribs. He would never tire of those big hands on his skin, nor the catch of Sirius’ breath under his lips when he skimmed a sensitive spot. He nibbled at his earlobe as the first lube-slick finger circled his rim. “You love it when I push you.”

Sirius ducked his head, but Remus caught a glimpse of his smile and reached out; he tipped his chin up and felt his heart go ka-chunk at the exasperated fondness directed only on him. “Maybe,” Sirius conceded, sliding just the first knuckle of his finger inside before returning to teasing circles. “Or maybe I just like you, hmm?”

“Never crossed my mind.”

“Not even once.” Sirius scrunched his nose playfully, then bent and kissed the shiny band on Remus’ ring finger. He couldn’t help his burning blush, a fact Sirius certainly didn’t miss when he kissed each of Remus’ cheeks before beginning to push two fingers inside him.

“Huh—” Remus managed, clutching at his shoulders.

Sirius paused at the second knuckle. “Too much?”

“No, no, keep go—uh fuck.” The wall was solid behind him, and for that Remus was grateful. He needed an anchor if Sirius was going to keep twisting his fingers like that. His heels pressed into the curve of Sirius’ ass when he slipped both all the way in and started up a pattern of steady movement, alternating between short thrusts that nudged at Remus’ prostate and scissoring him open like it was nothing. Every other stroke featured a swipe of his thumb over Remus’ stretched rim that made him shiver.

“You’re good with two.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, should be fine today—”

“Not a question, mon coeur.”

Heat flashed through his stomach and he clenched down around thick fingers, but when he found Sirius’ eyes again, there was a silent question there. “Yeah,” he repeated. “You’re right, give it to me, I’m ready.”

Sirius didn’t hesitate—his lashes fanned out over his cheeks as he gripped Remus’ hip with one hand and guided himself in, letting out a slow breath at the first constant press. He didn’t stop until he was in all the way despite Remus’ squirming. If anything, it seemed to encourage him. “Tight,” he noted, a little breathless.

“Two fingers,” Remus fired back, panting. “Better luck next time.”

The first snap of Sirius’ hips made him grit his teeth and tilt his head toward the ceiling, and the second covered the pretty blue paint with sparkles. He loved it like this, the burn and the stretch and the roughness of Sirius’ palms on his skin. It lacked the intensity of their more involved nights—usually saved for the bed, where water and snacks were easily accessible—but more than made up for it with the energy crackling between them. Sirius buried small noises in his collarbones while Remus heard his own punched-out sounds reverberate back to him, proof of life as liquid pleasure filled every vein.

Sirius was sweaty under his grappling hands and shining in the light that seeped through the curtains. He was working for it, muscles flexing, giving Remus everything he desired. It would be so nice to leave well enough alone and give Sirius the satisfaction of a job well done.

“Come on, you can do better than that.”

Sirius shoved forward and stayed there, statue-still. “Répète,” he said briskly, ignoring the groan of protest at the rapid halt.

Remus licked his lips. “I know you can go harder. I’ve seen it. Felt it. You’re not even trying.”

Sirius arched a brow. “Pardon?”

“Come on, babe, you haven’t even fucked me through the first layer of paint yet,” he goaded with a grin, even as a shudder filled his stomach. Seeing Sirius like this was like looking a lightning storm in the face. He wanted to see how fast it would crack and burn. Maybe it was mean, but the glint in Sirius’ eye told him he was enjoying this just as much as Remus was. “Feels like you think I’m a blushing virgin on our honeymoon.”

“You were not blushing or a virgin on our honeymoon,” Sirius laughed, hauling him further up by his thighs.

Remus slid his hand up the valley between Sirius’ pecs and around his neck, rubbing a thumb over the base of his skull. “Then fuck me like you married me.”

A smile played over Sirius’ lips as he leaned closer and pressed their foreheads together. “With my whole heart and soul?”

“And your dick,” Remus added. “Don’t forget that part.”

“If I do, will you admit James should be the first choice for my play?”

The slow, grinding circles of Sirius’ hips plucked at Remus’ concentration. He was deep enough that Remus could feel every inch of him, their bodies pushed close enough that each of Sirius’ breaths brushed his abdomen against Remus’ cock. He needed—he needed. “Maybe,” he conceded. “Depends on whether I can think afterward.”

He expected Sirius to start pounding him in earnest, but Sirius kept his pace, running his hands along Remus’ narrow hips and over his thighs, then back down to get good handfuls of his ass. Sirius spread him wide in a smooth motion and a short whine made Remus bite the inside of his lip, only to be kissed until he released it again.

And they stayed there. Waiting. Quiet. Sirius holding him open while he slipped in and out hardly an inch, over and over, pushing Remus up the wall with the force of each grind. It was tearing him apart, bit by bit.

“I need—” Remus gasped, clutching Sirius’ shoulder blades as the head of his cock continued rubbing over his prostate. His knee slid up to Sirius’ ribs as the shivery feeling in his gut intensified. He couldn’t even ask for more; it was slow and intentional and toe-curlingly good, and he was going to melt right down onto the goddamn floor. “Oh, shit, Sirius.”

Sirius shushed him softly and pressed him further into the wall. He replaced one hand with his knee again in a single effortless move and trailed his fingertips along Remus’ inner thighs, where the fine tremor running through him had started making an appearance. “You can take it,” he said lowly.

“Harder—gimme harder.”

“No.”

Another whine, louder this time, slipped through his teeth and Remus braced his foot against the couch arm for some leverage to rock down, but Sirius caught him under the knee and hefted him back up with a little bounce that made his mouth fall open at the sudden stimulation. It didn’t last long—he was back to a slowly-melting mess in seconds.

“You can take it hard,” Sirius agreed with a chaste kiss to the corner of Remus’ lips. It took him a moment to register it and chase after him for more, but Sirius just nuzzled into his cheek. “I love seeing you break under me and listening to you babble until you don’t make sense anymore. But when I want you to stop thinking…”

“Oh,” Remus whimpered, feeling another piece of his brain go radio silent when Sirius gave the base of his cock a squeeze.

“…I know exactly what you need.” It came out like the purr of a big cat, quiet and rumbly where his chest laid flat against Remus’. He was warm all over. Dizzy under the constant, pointed motions of Sirius’ rolling hips. Falling apart at the seams. Sirius shifted the hand holding him open to stroke at where they pressed together and a funny sort of wheeze escaped Remus. “What do you think, Re? Am I fucking you like I married you, now?”

All he could offer was a silent nod. Sirius Black, you absolute menace.

“Pink cheeks,” Sirius hummed, running the back of his hand over Remus’ cheekbones in a way that was somehow tender and possessive at the same time. He felt himself go hotter and turned away from it, away from the kind words and sweet tone that were so at odds with everything else about their situation. “Hey, no, look at me. Pretty boy, so smart. I do love it when you’re picky. There’s nobody else I want to check my plays. I love how much you love hockey.”

“Love you,” Remus corrected, though it came out as more of a slurred ‘luvva’. The praise was making him feel strange, like Sirius had shone a flashlight on him while also bundling him up safe and secure. It was—it was just too much, but any attempt to writhe away from it was met with a wall or Sirius himself.

“Don’t run away.” Sirius kissed him again, sweet and soft. Remus made a noise low in his throat when the index finger of his free hand pressed in alongside his cock, just an inch, just enough to tease. His legs shook around Sirius’ waist. “Let me say nice things to you, ouais?”

“Oh, no, no, no—” This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Sirius pushed, Remus pushed back, Remus got fucked over the nearest flat (usually) surface. He had not prepared himself to be leaking precome over Sirius’ hand from a few honeyed words.

“No?” Sirius nudged their noses together; Remus could hear how labored his breathing had become and moaned when his finger slid in another inch. “You don’t like it?”

“Like it,” he mumbled, loose-lipped and half-coherent. “Like it so much, love you, love you.”

“You still want it harder?”

Remus shook his head and guided Sirius closer by the back of his neck. It took a few tries, but then they were kissing for real, muffling Remus’ cry when Sirius began moving his cock and his finger in tandem. He was sandwiched as tight as he could ever imagine between a sturdy body and the wall, held up only by Sirius’ knee and hand. This is the peak of my entire life, he thought. I will nitpick every single play he ever puts in front of me.

Sirius laughed quietly into his mouth. Oops. “Please don’t, it would destroy my ego.”

“Your ego can take it,” Remus answered, closing his eyes at a deeper push. “And your plays are fucking gorgeous.”

“You’re gorgeous.” He groaned, going to cover his face with one hand, but Sirius pulled it away and placed it back on his own shoulder before taking Remus’ cock once again to rub relentlessly over the dripping head. “Stop that, I want to see how handsome you are when I come.”

A shout stuck in his chest and Remus arched into him, every muscle tightening as he came hard enough to spatter his sternum. It left him breathless and thrashing, but he yanked Sirius closer when he felt him pull away. “Fuck me through it,” he demanded, even as his knees folded on Sirius’ waist. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

The finger inside him disappeared and he had only a moment to mourn the loss before both of Sirius’ hands were on his ass again, canting his hips up to accommodate the height difference when Sirius straightened and began to rail him like Remus had thought he would from the beginning. Frantic, half-strangled noises were music to his ears as Sirius dragged his orgasm out to its final threads—a laugh bubbled out of him, but was quickly drowned out by Sirius’ shout as he shoved Remus against the wall and buried himself inside, breathing hard into the joint of his shoulder.

They remained there, both trembling, both sweaty enough that Remus could feel it cooling on his skin and damp on his hands. Every inch of him buzzed with the rush; he placed a few openmouthed kisses on the curve of Sirius’ neck, where his heaving gasps for air were most severe. It was rather flattering, to be honest. He took a stupid amount of joy in making Sirius look that happily worn out.

“Your play looks really, really good,” he murmured without removing his lips from flushed skin. Sirius smiled, forehead against the wall. “Both Finn and James would fuckin’ kill it out there. You’re so smart.”

Sirius hummed, licking over his collarbone before biting down gently. “I wanna win.”

“I know you do.” He stroked the side of Sirius’ face, then turned it toward himself. His eyes were a softer grey now. Less of a lightning storm, more of a drizzling raincloud. Remus kissed the tip of his nose. “We’ll win with you at the lead.”

“It was a silly fight.”

Sirius’ accent was thick, his eyelids drooping. Remus loved how he looked a little sex-drunk. “Yeah,” he agreed. “But I like this part.”

“I’m sorry for being pushy. And calling you picky.”

“Don’t apologize for that. I am picky. You have every right to be pushy about your plays.”

“You didn’t feel like I was bullying you, ouais?”

“Bullying me?” Remus laughed, tapping Sirius’ waist to be let down on shaky legs. “Baby, no, I had a great time.”

He stumbled when his feet found solid ground and Sirius caught him neatly under the arms, drawing him right into a cuddle. “Me, too,” he admitted. “You’re hot when you’re picky.”

“You just like a challenge.”

“That is not a secret, loup.”

“Wanna shower together?”

A thoughtful look crossed Sirius’ face before he looked down with a mischievous grin. “I’ll blow you if you wash my hair.”

“Deal.”

[fruitcoops]

Indecent

What do you do with several smut prompts, an upcoming break, a promise made three weeks ago regarding No nut November, and far too much enabling from your lovely friends? Obviously you write shameless smut.

Welcome to the Nine Days of Nutmas, beloveds. All character credit belongs to @lumosinlove (sorry Hazel).

TW for smut, momentary restraint (hands), and admiration of hockey butt.

“Now that’s just obscene.”

Remus turned sideways and watched himself go red in the mirror. So many side effects of hockey, yet nobody had warned him that a five-year-old pair of khakis would make him look like—like—

“Jesus, I look like Magic Mike,” he muttered, tugging at the too-tight inseam where it had ridden up from the simple act of turning half a degree. The light fabric clung to his legs like it had been spray-painted on, stitches holding on by a literal thread where his thighs touched in the middle. He could see the outline of his quad when he flexed alongside every dip of his knee. And god forbid he turn again, because that was just indecent. Even the slightest bend of his waist felt like a risk.

Remus examined himself for a few seconds longer, then sighed. Another one for the donation pile. At this rate, he wouldn’t have any clothes left by the end of the day.

“Oh.”

His heart leapt and he spun, instinctively grabbing at the front when the inseam gave a threatening pop. “Fuck—yeah, no, I know, it’s terrible.”

Sirius stared from the doorway, hand on the knob, jaw slack, eyes wide. “Um.”

“I figured I’d go through everything before I end up looking like…this…in public.” Remus ran a distressed hand through his hair and turned back to the mirror with a groan. “My ass looks ridiculous in these—do you know how much I liked these pants? This is awful.”

“Um,” Sirius agreed.

“I barely even wore some of these,” he continued miserably. The khakis had been a little treat for his two-year anniversary with the team, something that would be comfortable but still professional. He had kept them in perfect condition for years, and now…Remus frowned at his reflection. He had hoped the change in his physique wouldn’t be quite so severe.

He jumped a little when Sirius’ hands wrapped around his hips and slid down, to the side, then back up until his fingertips brushed the curve of Remus’ ass. “They look good to me,” Sirius murmured just below his ear. His lips brushed the lobe before catching it in a gentle tug; Remus suppressed a shiver.

“You might be biased.”

“Mmm, definitely.”

Goosebumps rose on his arms when Sirius resumed stroking along his outer thighs in long, slow pulls, apparently oblivious to Remus’ pounding heart. He let his head rest on Sirius’ shoulder and sighed when a soft mouth found his throat, nibbling and sucking in all the best spots. “I still have—hmm—a lot to go through.”

“By all means, keep putting smaller clothes on.” He could feel Sirius’ grin on his neck. “You’ll hear no protest from me.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that,” he muttered. Sirius met him in a kiss before he had finished turning his head and he smiled into it; the hands caressing his waist wandered lower, lower, lower until they were fully gripping Remus’ inner thighs. One moved up. Remus’ knees went weak under him and he gasped into the kiss; Sirius pushed into it greedily. “Bed, loup.”

“Please,” he breathed.

Sirius turned him by the waist and hoisted him up in one smooth motion, eyeing Remus in a way that made his stomach feel shivery and his pants even tighter than before. He tipped him back carefully until the mattress dipped beneath them, Remus’ ankles still locked around Sirius’ lower back, the entire world darkening as Sirius lowered himself onto his elbows and let their hips press together.

“Fuck.”

“Okay,” Sirius said agreeably. He gave a cheeky thrust and Remus choked on a groan, pushing his head back into the pillows. His cock throbbed; he was getting uncomfortable now, halfway to hard, and maybe if he squeezed Sirius’ waist a little harder that would—

RRRIP.

“Oh fuck,” Remus said faintly.

“Oh, fuck," Sirius moaned, sliding down his body without hesitation.

Remus only had a moment to gape at the brand-new hole exposing his left thigh before Sirius grabbed either side of the tear and pulled.

Well. He needed a new pair of shorts anyway.

“Wait, I was gonna—Sirius!”

Sirius bit at the pale, sensitive space that had opened up and Remus squirmed. “You can’t donate things with holes anyway. Take them off.”

“I’m getting there, but I could have repaired it—”

“Take them off or I’m ripping the other side, too.”

I should be embarrassed. I should be intimidated. I should be--I should not be this horny. Remus watched Sirius’ throat bob on a hard swallow. Wide-blown pupils eclipsed most of the silver in his eyes and his breaths came summer-hot and heavy. He wasn’t the captain right now; he was desperate.

Remus met his gaze. “Do it.”

Like a puppy given permission to destroy its favorite toy, Sirius was on him in an instant. Remus laughed at the excitement reddening his pale cheeks and pulled Sirius up by the front of his shirt for a harsh kiss once the other side had been similarly shredded, shoving their hips together as thick cotton rubbed against his newly-bare thighs. Sirius made a needy noise into his mouth and he caught his lower lip between his teeth, then pulled back with a grin.

“Missed a spot.”

The button came free and Sirius yanked the front open with unbridled glee; Remus laughed into his mouth at the pop of the zipper coming apart, lifting his hips like a helpful boyfriend until his knees were free and he could tackle Sirius onto his back. “You’re so fucking hot in your old uniforms,” Sirius panted.

“Not the intention, but I’ll take it.”

“Lube, where’s the lube—”

Remus caught his wrists and pinned them above his head, bringing him to a standstill. God damn, it felt good to be strong. “You wanna fuck me?”

Sirius nodded hurriedly.

“Want me to ride you?”

“Fuck, please, Re, anything—”

“I bet you do, baby,” he teased, grinding back into Sirius’ lap. It drew a frantic, frustrated noise from him, music to Remus’ ears as he tilted his head toward the ceiling and closed his eyes. Every inch of Sirius pressed into the curve of his thigh, hot even through a layer of fabric and almost certainly wet. The relief of being out of those khakis was beyond words. The rush that spiked in him when Sirius’ wrists flexed in his hold was even better. He let one loose and watched Sirius track his tongue when he wetted his lips. “Get the lube if you want me so bad.”

The look Sirius gave him at that promised it would be the last order he gave tonight. I should be worried about that. He wasn’t.

Their clothes came off in a mess of hands and openmouthed kisses, calming only when a slick finger circled Remus’ entrance and made him bury a noise he just couldn’t swallow into the side of Sirius’ neck. He rocked back into it and Sirius gave him what he wanted, one knuckle then two, his free hand scratching lightly over the curve of Remus’ back. A second finger pressed in alongside the first and a punched-out sound escaped him—his brows pitched and he scrabbled for a hold on Sirius’ torso, wheezing a little when a third finger teased his rim before vanishing with the others.

The heel of Sirius’ hand pressed down the back of his thigh and Remus’ eyes nearly rolled at the release of tension. “Sit up,” Sirius murmured with a squeeze to the thick part of his hamstring. His accent was already thicker than honey and just as sweet. “Up, Re.”

A life spent in the dark, warm haven of Sirius’ shoulder didn’t sound too bad, actually. He was smooth and pleasantly soft with relaxation under Remus’ palms, plenty there to knead while he rocked against Sirius’ lower belly to take the edge off. The coarse hair leading along Remus’ favorite path rubbed against his hip and he nuzzled into Sirius’ jaw with a contented hum.

The faint sunlight outside made him grimace when Sirius pulled him up with a firm hand tangled in the back of his hair. "Up," he repeated.

Remus grinned. “Never knew you had a khaki fetish.”

Sirius released his hair and planted Remus firmly in his lap instead. He couldn’t lie—knowing Sirius could lift and maneuver him by his hips alone was kind of hot. “Up. Sit. Please.”

“Woof.”

“Come o--huhn," Sirius gritted his teeth as Remus settled Sirius’ cock rested in his cleft, perfectly placed for a few slow rolls. "Remus."

“I want you so bad,” he muttered. He snatched the lube off the sheets with a trembling hand and reached back blindly to pour some over Sirius’ cock despite the urge to just get up and sit. But he had experience on his side and in the space of one breath and the next, he was sinking down to their tandem exhales. The stretch made his neck heat. The pleasure made him ache. “God, Sirius, just like that.”

Callused hands fumbled at his wrists for a moment. “Give.”

“Huh?”

“Give, wanna hold you up,” Sirius said as he laced their fingers together with a tight squeeze. His cheeks were flushed with desire when Remus looked down again. “Wanna see you work for it.”

Remus rose up on his knees and felt the leverage from Sirius’ hands give him a boost—the next rock down carried more force and they both moaned, raven-black hair spilling over the pillow in messy curls as Sirius tossed his head. He was so fucking gorgeous Remus couldn’t even handle it.

“Want to watch—merde," Sirius hissed, meeting Remus’ faster pace thrust for thrust. “Want to watch you work for it, your legs kill me at practice.”

“Now you know how I felt,” Remus laughed breathlessly. The slap of their skin and Sirius’ choked noises sent lust through every nerve. He was the one making Sirius feel that good and he was the one who would be sore for it later and he got to see that pretty face screw up in pleasure so clear it belonged in a magazine centerfold.

No, came the sudden thought. No, no, that's mine, you don't get to have it. Remus was selfish with so little but that was one thing he would hoard like treasure. He slammed his hips down harder and stayed there in steady grinds, savoring the shout that echoed in his ears next to the fizz of pure pleasure as the head of Sirius’ cock brushed his prostate. Stuffed full and happy, the center of attention under Sirius’ dark gaze—Remus bit his lip and repeated the motion until his vision went fuzzy. When he swayed forward, Sirius pushed him back with the grip on his hands.

“Keep going.”

“Gotta give me one back so I can come—”

“You’ll come like this.”

Remus exhaled but didn’t break pace, even though his muscles had started to burn and his head was getting foggier with the constant pressure of Sirius’ cock inside him. “Tired—”

“No, you’re not, I know how hard you work.”

His whine of protest would have made him blush in another world, a world where he wasn’t close but not there because his bossy boyfriend wouldn’t give him his hands back. Not that he was 100% positive he could hold himself up without the help, but it would have been nice of Sirius to let him try.

“Don’t slow down,” Sirius warned.

“I told you, I’m tired!” Remus could feel his thighs trembling on every push up, like he had done a full round of squats instead of bouncing in his captain’s lap.

Sirius let out a harsh breath through his nose and finally—thank fuck—let Remus free, only to wrap his hands around his hips and pull him down the last few inches. Remus’ gasp caught in his throat and became a garbled mess halfway out. He grabbed Sirius’ wrists, not for restraint anymore, just for something to hold as Sirius brought him back to the rapid pace they had set at the start.

“Don’t try to touch yourself.”

Remus shook his head vehemently. As if he would risk losing the riot rushing through his entire body. “Won’t, I won’t, oh god.”

“You’re so fucking strong now,” Sirius groaned, his thumbs digging in as he yanked Remus closer and snapped his hips up to meet him. Remus watched, openmouthed, as precome dripped onto Sirius’ belly and smudged over the tense muscles there.

“This is not what I thought would happen in those khakis,” he mumbled.

“You underestimate—” A sharp thrust made Remus cry out. “—how much I like your muscles.”

“Jesus, Sirius, please let me come—”

“I’m not stopping you.”

Remus whimpered as the feeling built and gave up on trying to match Sirius’ movements, giving over the reins. Sweat dripped down his temple and cooled on his chest above his racing heart. Every muscle below his waist shook with exhaustion and pleasure, leaving him with only his arms to brace against the sheets on either side while Sirius put him just where he wanted him. There was relief in that. No decisions. No expectations. He could wash his hands of the power and let Sirius get him where they needed to go.

Never in a million years had he hoped for someone who would share like that, yet here he was, so full he could hardly handle it and loving every second. Remus twisted the wrinkled cotton topsheet until his knuckles hurt and folded like a cheap card table, watching come stripe Sirius’ chest from a thousand lightyears away.

Sirius made a sweet, broken sound and tensed; his hands flexed, then relaxed, leaving him to shudder through the aftershocks while Remus rocked gently back and forth to eke out every last drop of the dopamine flooding his system.

When he tipped forward this time, there was nobody to catch him—they collided with a dull oof and a tired laugh, shuffling around in a mess of limbs. Sirius pushed into his hand when he combed it through sweaty curls, smiling softly. “So pretty,” Remus said, stretching until his ankles popped. “Hmm. So bossy.”

“You love when I’m bossy,” Sirius said through a smile as he rolled him onto his back for a deep kiss.

“Sure do, babycakes.”

“Fuck’s a babycake?”

“You. You’re my baby,” Remus explained, nudging their noses together as he snuck around to grab a handful of Sirius’ ass. “And you’ve got cake.”

Sirius snorted, then turned into the pillow to hide his laughter while he wrangled Remus into a crushing hug that left him in ideal range for lazy kisses to the edge of Sirius’ blush. Two drawers of clothing remained in the closet; Remus gave them just enough thought to remember they existed, but then Sirius was nosing along his cheek to capture his lips and he really didn’t care about pants, actually. He cared about the stretch of warm muscles and the hand cradling his face, the faint tremor in his legs and the man who gave him all of it. That was where his thoughts began and ended. Remus was quite alright with that.

Indecent, indeed.