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Fic: Anything But Simple
Title: Anything But Simple
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
llaeyro
Pairing: Sirius/Harry, Harry/Lee Jordan (briefly)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~6k
Summary: Voldemort is dead. Hogwarts is restored. The Ministry is stable. Harry Potter is horny.
Warnings: Age difference, anal, strong language, UST (but it does get resolved, promise!).
Disclaimer: The characters and the universe belong to Rowling, I do this for fun and don’t make a single knut.
A/N: AU—Sirius lives. For non-Brits, a ‘butty’ is a type of buttered sandwich with a hot filling. This is fordigthewriter, and it didn’t turn out exactly how I thought it would, (it was supposed to be smut, I have no idea where all the feels came from,) so I hope you like it anyway! All my love belongs to the incredible shiftylinguini who not only beta-ed for me, but got her pompoms out too and without her this would be yet another fic in my pile labelled unfinished. <3
As soon as they stumbled out into the brisk night air, Harry found himself pushed against the wall of the club. He smiled up at Lee Jordan, giving in hungrily when he leant down for another kiss. Harry gasped as he felt Lee’s bulge against his thigh.
“Your place?” he panted. Lee winced.
“Parents, you know…” he’d started casually, but then he seemed to realise what he’d said, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry.” Harry had long since grown used to accidental throw-away comments.
Harry dismissed it with a quick shake of his head. “My place?” He looked hopefully up into large brown eyes.
Lee grinned as he pressed his lips to Harry’s once more.
Harry stumbled against the front door when they Apparated—partly due to the alcohol and partly down to Lee’s lips locked firmly on his collarbone, his hands exploring Harry’s hips. When had Lee undone his top two shirt buttons anyway?
As soon as they were inside number twelve, Lee had him up against the wall again. The man jumped when the lamps flickered on, to reveal Sirius standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Oh, don’t stop defiling my hallway on my account, by all means,” he said with a false lightness, barely containing his irritation. Sirius made his way up the stairs. Harry had pulled Lee back in to resume kissing by the time Sirius called down: “And Harry, be a dear and fuck in your own bedroom tonight. If it’s not too much trouble…”
Harry inwardly cringed and hoped Lee wouldn’t be put off. He tried to kiss him again, but Lee pulled away.
“Sorry, Harry. This was a mistake.”
Harry let his head thud back against the wall. He watched Lee walk out of the door without a word. He could have pleaded his case, but it hardly seemed worth the effort. Who would actually believe that the ‘Chosen One’ hadn’t gotten laid since Hogwarts? When you ruled out women, straight guys, people looking to sell a story and those wanting something more serious, Harry was starting to feel he wasn’t left with many options. He’d even tried a Muggle bar once, but obviously they couldn’t go back to Harry’s and all the blokes Harry had tried chatting up either lived with their parents, their wife or a flat mate they hadn’t come out to yet. All he wanted was someone to fuck him into the mattress. Was that so much to ask? He had saved the fucking world, after all. Why did it have to be so complicated?
Harry trudged upstairs. He heard the floorboards creak as he passed the drawing room, but kept moving.
“Lost your acquisition?” Sirius’s voice stopped him at the foot of the stairs. Harry scowled and stepped forward, into the light of the single lamp on the wall.
“Yeah and now I’m stuck with this not-so-little problem,” Harry crudely gestured at his own crotch, “Thanks to you.”
“Oh you poor thing, would you like me to run you a nice cold shower?” Sirius really laid on the false sympathy.
“Are you offering to give me a hand?” Harry raised an eyebrow, smirking when Sirius balked.
“Go to bed, you little shit,” he grumbled, yet he couldn’t seem to help a small smile as he cuffed Harry lightly round the head and followed him up the stairs.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Harry woke up, he didn’t open his eyes. He just laid there on his side, making the most of the blissful, problem-free moment which he knew the slightest movement would destroy. He pulled the covers slowly off of his face and harsh light filtered through his closed eyelids; definitely time to get up, then.
He tentatively raised his head off the pillow and was surprised when it didn’t instantly start to thrum. Harry realised he really needed a piss, so he threw back the covers and slung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept through him; he steadied himself with both hands on the nightstand. Harry took a deep breath and reluctantly opened his eyes to peek through his lashes. ‘Ouch. Eurgh,’ thought Harry: that being the current extent of his self-assessment skills. He got up slightly shakily and walked, hunched over, to the door. He kicked last night’s jeans across the floor and out of his way, his wand clattering as it fell out of the pocket. Harry frowned as he leant to pick it up; it wasn’t like him to just leave his wand lying about. As he straightened up, he spotted the bottle of firewhisky that he’d emptied after returning home. ‘Oh yeah, that… That would explain it,’ he thought. He noticed a small piece of parchment sticking out from under the bottle and peered over at it.
‘Pepperup’s in the kitchen.’
Git. Sirius usually brought it up for him. Harry considered skipping the potion and just going back to bed to sleep it off. For Sirius to come up at least two flights just to stick the note there when he could have brought the potion up, Harry knew he must be on his high-horse again and this was part of making his point. Harry groaned his despair as he plodded to the bathroom to relieve himself.
Harry stepped under the almost too-hot stream of water, just letting the heat soak into his muscles as the water trickled over him. He tried to recall what he could of last night. As unwelcome as Sirius’s involvement had been, it did seem to support Harry’s theory that Sirius was jealous of Harry’s late night pursuits. He wondered if he could use that jealousy to his advantage; Sirius was not in bad shape, after all. He wouldn’t go to the press, he wouldn’t treat Harry like he was made of glass, they already live together so they could hook up whenever they wanted and he didn’t have to worry about the other person wanting to take things more seriously—Sirius had already made his position very clear on that subject. When Molly had tried to arrange blind dates for him and ignored his polite refusals, Sirius had launched into a vehement tirade as to why he could never settle down, as well as detailing his ‘needs’ rather graphically. He’d never seen Molly blush so furiously. At the time, Harry had wondered who had hurt Sirius so badly that he didn’t want to risk another relationship, but now he was too preoccupied with the thought that Sirius was just the person he’d been looking for to shag him senseless.
Harry felt slightly less like an Inferius after the long shower. He was about to return to his bedroom, still seriously contemplating going back to bed, when a gorgeous smell caught his attention. Bacon. Harry’s unhappy stomach gurgled. He turned around and headed down the stairs, towel fixed around his waist.
“Morning, Hans,” Sirius called cheerily as Harry descended the steps into the kitchen.
“What?” Harry asked disinterestedly. His voice was hoarse, he tried to clear it as he took the nearest chair at the table.
“Hans Solo,” Sirius supplied as he brought the platters of bacon and buttered bread over. Harry raised his eyebrows, looking at Sirius blankly.
“From Star Wars, you know, that Muggle film with the glowing wands they bash each other with, and—”
“Yeah,” interrupted Harry, trying not to get agitated with Sirius so early in the day, “I know who that is, I don’t know why you’re calling me it.”
“Hans Solo,” Sirius repeated, helping himself to breakfast, “because you went out on the pull and ended up choking the chicken, solo.” Sirius grinned, looking far too pleased with himself as he tucked into his butty.
“Pepperup?” Harry sighed, his hand propping his head up as he leant his elbow on the table. He was unfortunately growing used to Sirius’s horrible euphemisms and questionable humour.
Sirius pushed a flask across the table and Harry downed it in one, shortly followed by a rasher of bacon. Harry assembled a sandwich as he felt the potion start to take the edge off.
“It’s your fault anyway.”
“What’s my fault?” Sirius frowned.
Harry swallowed his mouthful before replying. “That I ended up solo last night. You scared him off.”
“Yeah, I guess I was out of order. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that, I was just frustrated.”
“When’s the last time you got laid?”
Sirius nearly choked on his bacon. “I didn’t mean that, I mean it’s frustrating to see you throwing yourself at men meaninglessly.”
“You’re dodging the question.” Harry grinned.
“Because it’s none of your bloody business.” He sounded indignant.
“That’s ‘Sirius’ for too fucking long ago.”
“It’s ‘Sirius’ for keep your nose out.” Sirius pointed his finger at Harry threateningly.
“Oh come on,” Harry sighed, as he leaned back in his chair, “You know I haven’t got any gay friends. There’s no one I can talk to about this stuff, why do you always shut me out?”
“I’m your guardian, it’s weird… Plus, I don’t see why you care when I last got laid.”
“Because you get bitchy when you’re frustrated.”
“I do not.” Sirius looked as though he was trying not to pout. Harry couldn’t help but smile. “Can we please talk about something else?
“Fine, do you prefer to top or bottom?”
“That is definitely none of your business.”
Harry surveyed him incredulously. “Preferring to bottom doesn’t make you any less of a man.”
“That’s nothing to do with it.” Sirius stood up, collecting the empty plates and taking them to the sink.
“I’m a bottom.”
“Oh.” Sirius sounded disinterested, but the way he scrubbed at the pans in the sink rather than using his wand looked to Harry like the actions of a man trying to distract himself.
He shifted in his seat, to better face Sirius; knees fallen comfortably apart, towel barely covering the essentials.
“Yeah, I love being stretched, filled, drilled into the mattress—”
“Harry that is far too much information.” He turned, looking peeved, but his expression soon softened as his eyes fell to Harry’s towel. He quickly turned back to the sink. “You’re making me uncomfortable, you need to stop talking like that.”
“Are you sure it’s my talking that’s making you uncomfortable and not the hard on you’ve got there?”
Sirius sighed and ceased scrubbing. “You’re right, it has been too long.”
Harry wanted to get up, press himself against Sirius, but he held back. He didn’t want to come on too strong, and he definitely didn’t want to make things awkward between them. At least if he kept things light, they could just laugh it off later. “Maybe I could help you with that.”
Sirius whipped around, the threatening finger out again. “Now hold it right there. I’m too old for you, I’m your godfather—your guardian—and your father was my… my best friend. You need to stop throwing yourself at everyone. End of.” Harry sat up, trying to make himself slightly more decent by adjusting his towel. All thoughts of keeping the conversation light were forgotten as Harry’s anger at the strength of Sirius’s rebuttal swelled.
“You’re only as old as you feel, and you act like a teenager half the time. I’m an adult, I can look after myself and my father—” Harry cut himself off. It wasn’t in either of their interests for Harry to finish that sentence. He sighed, head in his hands. “It’s been nearly two years since I had a shag, Sirius. I need to let off some steam.”
Sirius threw himself down in the chair next to Harry’s with a huff. “Look, why don’t we go out tonight? I’ll be your wingman.”
Harry didn’t hold out much hope, but Sirius was trying. “Yeah, why not.” Harry smiled, already wondering how he could turn the night to his advantage.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The more he’d thought about it, and he’d thought about it all day, the more it made sense. He had to have Sirius. That is why Harry had already changed his mind about what to wear six times, over just three t-shirts and two pairs of shoes. Back in his snug white t-shirt, jeans and loafers, he ran a hand pointlessly through his hair as he frowned at himself in the mirror. They were hitting wizarding bars tonight, so Harry wanted to blend into the crowd to avoid getting spotted, but hopefully gain the right sort of attention from the desired person.
He headed downstairs, slowing at the bottom of the last flight as he took in Sirius’s appearance. Whenever Sirius had gone out on the pull, Harry had already been out, and Sirius was back and in his casuals before Harry got back. Looking at him now, he couldn’t understand why the man didn’t have more success. His facial hair was neatly trimmed into a goatee, slightly longer in the moustache, his wavy hair hanging freely around his shoulders. He’d picked a simple black shirt that was only done up two thirds of the way, revealing a generous expanse of chest hair and tucked into his dark denims. The shiny, high-topped, blood-red Dr Martens were an unexpected touch; the leather jacket, not so much.
“Earth to Harry?”
“Sorry, you look,” Harry came down the last step, trying to clear his suddenly dry throat, “You scrub up well.”
Sirius’s smile seemed slightly wary. “Cheers. Well, I thought I might as well see if I can make an impression on anyone.”
Harry Apparated them to a quiet London back street, and started walking, Sirius at his side.
“So,” Sirius started, cheerily, “Who are we on the lookout for tonight?”
“Male, not straight, not married, not only interested because I saved the world, not going to sell his story, not too camp, not exclusively a bottom.”
“Right. Tall or blond or dark or young?”
Harry gave him the side-eye. “You really think I can afford to add any more criteria to that list? Why do you think it’s been two years?”
Sirius chuckled, “The scene can’t be that bad…”
Harry stopped and pointed to indicate they’d arrived. Sirius held the door open for him and they stepped inside. It was a gay pub; not too large, cosy, mostly older men by that time as the others have had their pre-drinks and headed into the clubs.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sirius grumbled over Harry’s shoulder.
He turned to face him, “I know it’s not quite what you had in mind, but it’s quiet. If someone does recognise me… things don’t get as hectic.”
“It’s a bloody wrinkle room!” Sirius hissed quietly.
Harry tried not to laugh, “Most of them are about your age!”
“Yeah, but they look it.” Sirius straightened out his jacket haughtily.
“One drink?” Harry smiled sweetly. Sirius huffed, giving in and heading to the bar.
When they had their drinks, they perched on a couple of high stools by the window. Sirius leant across, keeping his voice low. “I thought you wanted to get laid, why are we wasting time in here?”
“Like I said, less drama. And anyway, I want a good lay. I don’t want to waste time with someone who hasn’t got a fucking clue. With age, comes experience.”
Sirius didn’t look convinced. “You’ve never come home with an older bloke before.” Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius cut him off. “Not this much older.”
“With my experience, that of failing to get screwed, comes wisdom.” Harry grinned.
“Ok, any potential in here then?”
“At first glance there is, but then,” Harry nodded in the direction of a couple standing at the bar, “they’re together,” he nodded to a table in the corner, “he’s got a wedding ring on and a guy behind you has got a tan line where he’s taken his off for the night.” Sirius casually surveyed the room, subtly checking out the guys Harry had indicated. His eyes narrowed. True, two of the guys had long hair, one also with a goatee, they were all nearer Sirius’s age than Harry’s and in good shape. There was a resemblance, but that’s just because Sirius was Harry’s type. Maybe not for a relationship, but for this. Okay, so maybe the oldest of the bunch, with the long hair, isn’t who Harry would usually go for. Maybe he was trying to make a little bit of a point. Just a little.
“Okay, so this stop was a bust. Can we go to a proper gay bar now?”
Harry nodded and they downed the rest of their drinks.
The club was loud and busy, but not overly crowded. Harry tensed up. At least when he had to shove himself up against people to squeeze through the crowd, there was less chance of being spotted at a distance. They leant against the bar with their drinks in silence, watching the dance floor. Well, Harry was watching the dance floor. As critical as Sirius had been of Harry ordering a ‘frilly drink’, he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of Harry every time he sucked at his straw.
“Sirius, how do you expect to find me a date if you’re just staring at me all night?”
Sirius clenched his jaw until the song changed. “I love this song! Come on, Harry.” He tried to tug Harry out into the writhing masses, but Harry resisted.
“No! I do not do dancing!”
“Well, you’re not going to find someone by propping the bar up, you need to be proactive.” Harry shook his head stubbornly. “Either you come and dance, or you pay a forfeit. You down a shot of my choice.”
“I’ll take the shot.” Harry answered with a shrug.
Sirius leant over the bar to be heard above the music and shortly a dark brown sticky looking liquid was placed in front of Harry in a shot glass. “What is it?” Harry asked, wrinkling his nose as he sniffed the bitter liqueur.
“The Prongs Special,” Sirius winked. He watched Harry down the shot with a grimace before heading off to the dance floor. Harry lost sight of him in the crowd for a while, hypnotised by the steady beat of the music and the swirl of colours and lighting effects. A flash of red boot caught his attention as the crowd shifted, bringing Sirius into view. Harry hadn’t really thought about Sirius’s dancefloor prowess before, but he supposed he had been expecting him to be of the dad-dancing standard. As Harry watched him move to the music, he felt his first real surge of lust for the man. Sirius seemed to lose himself to the rhythm, without getting carried away and looking ridiculous—as Harry was sure he would if he ever dared try. He was fucking sexy. As well as single, gay, experienced and, Harry was fairly sure, a top.
Harry had just about decided to brave it and head over, when he spotted an unwelcome face in the crowd. He urgently waved the barman over and ordered a pint of lager. His drink and change arrived on the bar just as the man Harry really hadn’t wanted to bump into stepped up beside him.
“Can I get you a drink?” The short blond wizard leered at Harry, who just raised his full pint with a shrug. He couldn’t even count how many times Joel had tried it on with him. Harry had even decided he just couldn’t take a hint and told him flat out, yet still he persisted. Joel wasn’t unhandsome, a bit on the short side and very conscious of it, but alright otherwise. He was just a bit too well-groomed for Harry; he’d dread to think of the consequences if he took this guy home and he broke a nail while they were going at it. He just didn’t need that kind of drama in his life.
“I’d noticed you haven’t been around for a while.” He was leaning in close, under the pretence of being heard; totally oblivious of Harry leaning away, trying to regain his personal space.
“Yeah, I’ve been, busy.”
“Look, I’m going to cut to the chase, I was hoping I’d catch you here again—”
Harry felt a strong hand on his hip pulling him sideways, away from Joel, and into a firm chest with a familiar musk. He looked across, straight into Sirius’s eyes.
“Everything alright, babe?” Sirius purred, glancing from Harry to look warily at Joel, and back again. Sirius reached up, smoothing a strand of Harry’s hair behind his ear.
Harry played along, lifting a hand to Sirius’s chest, letting his fingers absently card through his chest hair. “Of course,” he smiled up at Sirius, “Joel was just wondering where I’ve been hiding lately.”
Sirius chuckled easily. “I’m afraid that would be my fault. Who wants to go out for the night when you could stay home with this?” Harry let out a rather undignified squeal and jumped as Sirius’s hand slipped from his hip to squeeze his arse. He knew his face probably matched the colour of Sirius’s shoes, but he forced a coy smile. “It was nice to meet you, Joel.” Sirius started to steer Harry away, but Joel offered out his hand too quickly.
“You too, uh, sorry. I didn’t quite catch your name.”
“Sirius,” he said with a false smile, taking the proffered hand briefly. Realisation struck Joel’s face; the sideways look from Sirius told Harry that he’d seen it too. Harry jerked his head toward the exit. Sirius nodded, taking Harry’s hand and leading him swiftly through the club. When they finally broke out into the street, they heard the clamour of voices in the club rising.
“There!” they heard from behind them, “I told you it was him, Sirius Black!”
Sirius was just standing there, Harry’s hand still in his, looking dumbly up and down the street. Not taking the time to look behind them, Harry pulled Sirius away.
“Come on!” They ran, slipping down a side street before Apparating back home.
Sirius, still slightly breathless, followed Harry upstairs and joined him in flopping onto the sofa in the drawing room. Harry started to laugh, still puffing.
“What’s so funny?” Sirius huffed.
“You.” Harry chuckled, head tipped back against the cushions, eyes closed. “Why the fuck did you tell him your real name?”
“From what I gather, he’s tried and failed on several occasions to chat up Harry Potter, so why should my name be an issue? I have been publicly vindicated…”
“You’re a bloody celebrity, you idiot! And besides,” Harry turned to Sirius and shoved his hair out of the way, presenting the clear, unmarked forehead of the Glamour Harry had set up for the night. “I managed to convince him months ago that my name was David. I still don’t think he totally bought it though.” After a moment of surprise, Sirius started chuckling too.
“Trust you to have a bloody alter-ego.”
“Trust you to think that pretending to be my boyfriend without an alter-ego was a good idea! I dread to think what’s in the papers tomorrow…”
“I thought I did a pretty good job of it, actually. You certainly seemed relieved.”
“I’m just so fed up with that guy crawling all over me.” He shuddered.
“Ok, so, maybe I understand now why you go out so often. I didn’t really appreciate how difficult it is for you to find someone, for what you need.” They smiled at each other for a moment, until Sirius winced.
“What’s wrong?”
“These boots were not made for running down alleyways.” He bent down to untie them and hissed as he toed them off.
Harry patted his lap, nodding at Sirius’s feet. “Come on,” he offered.
“Oh, no, they’re not that bad, really.”
“You saved my arse from that creep earlier, come on.” He patted his lap again and Sirius brought his feet up to rest on Harry’s leg. Harry cast quick cleaning and cooling charms and started rubbing. “I’m trying to say thanks, I guess.” Harry said, keeping his gaze on Sirius’s feet as he massaged carefully between his toes. “You didn’t have to do that. I mean, it can’t have been easy for you, having to pretend to be attracted to me.” Harry closed his eyes at the accidental bitterness in his voice. He felt Sirius swing his legs from Harry’s lap and scoot closer.
“Harry.” Sirius almost whispered, his hand resting lightly on Harry’s thigh. Harry looked up at him; he was so close now. “You are a very desirable young man. Never doubt that. I told you why I must keep my distance from your personal life. I promise you, those are the only reasons. They’re reason enough, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not a lack of attraction. You will find someone.”
Harry’s mind was reeling; Sirius was so close, he could smell his cologne, his hand was so warm and welcome on Harry’s thigh. His brain raced to filter through Sirius’s words but all that he could focus on was ‘desirable’ and ‘attraction’. It didn’t matter how much logic Sirius threw at the situation, the facts were clear; Sirius wanted him and was denying himself, probably for the large part because of his loyalty to Harry’s father.
’Fuck it,’ thought Harry, and he brought his lips to Sirius’s. Sirius held still beneath him at first, until Harry ran his hand slowly up Sirius’s inner thigh from the knee and Sirius melted beneath him, kissing back, hands wandering, pulling Harry closer. Harry hadn’t kissed anyone with a moustache before; it was odd, but in a nice way. Boldly, Harry brushed his hand across Sirius’s bulge. With a groan of frustration, Sirius pushed Harry away and bolted off of the sofa. He stared back at Harry, hands tangled in his own hair, lust and guilt and confusion and numerous other emotions warring on his face.
“I said no,” Sirius said weakly, sadly. He closed his eyes. “Why can’t you see how wrong it is?”
“Why can’t you see that I need you, Sirius?” Sirius turned away, but Harry persisted. He stood but didn’t leave the sofa. “It’s true. You won’t use me because of who I am, you won’t make things complicated—”
“Won’t—Complicated; what?!” Sirius spun around, hands out in front of him in disbelieving exasperation, “What part of this isn’t fucking complicated!?”
Harry didn’t rise to it, he just shrugged. “We know each other well enough to know what we both want from life. All I want from you… It’s just sex. It’s only complicated if you let it be.”
Sirius’s tense posture dropped. He considered Harry for a moment, head tilted to one side, before letting loose a long sigh and heading towards the door. Harry went to follow him but stopped when Sirius held up a flat hand, back still to Harry, and shook his head. Harry let him go.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It had been two days, and Harry couldn’t have had more than five minutes alone with Sirius. All of a sudden Sirius had errands to run every day, and people to meet for dinner. Not today, though. At breakfast, he had made Sirius swear that it would just be the two of them, having dinner together tonight. Harry had promised they didn’t need to talk. He planned to do as little talking as possible tonight.
He felt nervous and a little ridiculous as he lay, sprawled out and naked, on his bed. He checked the time before throwing his head back onto the pillow and reaching for his limp cock. He hardened quickly in his own hand, stroking slowly as he planned for, fantasized about, what may happen later.
He faintly heard Sirius call from downstairs. “Harry! It’s nearly ready.”
About ten minutes passed. He heard stairs creaking below, getting slowly closer and closer.
“Harry?”
He was just one floor below now. More creaking of steps. Harry’s breathing quickened; he squeezed slightly harder as he carried on pumping himself slowly, trying to counter the fear starting to build inside of him.
“Harry, are you alright?” Right. Outside. The door. “Harry?” The door started to open. Harry threw his head back against the pillow, concentrating on the good sensations.
“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to barge... you could have—put some bloody charms up next time!” Sirius was half turned away as he blustered, seemingly not knowing where to look. Harry propped himself up, other hand still working his cock, smiling softly at Sirius. Sirius gave him a quick glance over his shoulder. He laughed bitterly, but there was amusement and wonder in his voice when he spoke. “You little shit.”
He closed the door behind him.
Harry was up, ear to the door. After a pause, Sirius moved to the left. Shit, that’s the stairs to go down... Where was the creak? Shit, he was coming back. Harry leapt onto the bed, trying to look calm, but the footsteps kept going. There was a melody of ascending creaks. Harry could only think of one reason for Sirius to go up to his room right now, and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to see his plan through. He waited to hear the door close above as he grabbed his wand. He gave it another beat to let Sirius set the charms, then he was out the room and up the stairs, still stark naked, a cursory hand on his cock to stop it from bouncing around uncomfortably.
Harry pointed his wand at Sirius’s door, his heart pumping madly in his chest, thrumming in his ears. “Bombarda.”
Harry stepped onto the flattened door as the dust cleared, revealing Sirius sitting on the end of the bed with his trousers halfway down his thighs and his cock in hand, looking rather surprised. When he snapped out of the initial shock, he tucked himself back into his trousers, not bothering to do them up. Harry stood there, breathless from bolting up the stairs, watching Sirius watching him. He didn’t know what else he could do; he hadn’t really let himself plan this far ahead, for fear of getting his hopes up. So he just stood there, naked and hard, watching the changes in Sirius’s expression as he internally battled with himself.
“I don’t do relationships,” he said, finally.
“I know.” Harry answered quickly. Sirius didn’t reply straight away; his eyes raked slowly up and down Harry’s body, taking in every inch of him.
Sirius got to his feet and moved closer, a hand on his waistband to keep his unbuttoned trousers up. “Harry,” he muttered gruffly, as he reached out to cup Harry’s cheek, grey eyes locked on his, “I can’t love you.”
Harry nodded slightly as he swallowed, trying to sooth his suddenly dry throat. “It’s just sex,” he tried to say with conviction, but it came out shaky—Sirius was right there, so close, Harry just wanted to close the gap and kiss him. Instead, he took hold of the hand on his cheek and led it to his lips, slowly kissing each knuckle, keeping his gaze on Sirius.
Sirius let out a long, shuddering breath as his resolve finally seemed to snap. He grabbed Harry, one hand around his neck and the other around his waist and pulled them together into a deep kiss. Harry kissed back hungrily, his hands trying to explore the body before him but there were too many clothes in the way. Not a second after he had thought it, the clothes were gone. Harry vaguely registered that he should really stop accidentally perform wordless magic; he was thankful that it wasn’t with a Muggle this time. The way Sirius smiled into the kiss and brushed his hard cock against Harry’s, he guessed Sirius didn’t mind Harry’s impatience.
“Bed,” Sirius growled between kisses, releasing Harry and going to the chest of drawers.
Harry bolted onto the bed and laid on his back. Sirius unscrewed the pot he’d taken from a drawer as he approached the bed and settled between Harry’s legs. Harry brought his knees up, feet flat on the bed either side of Sirius as he trailed slick fingers down Harry’s perineum to flick across his hole. Sirius shifted his weight and leant down, taking Harry’s cock into his mouth as the first finger breached him. Harry groaned loudly, fighting with himself to keep his hips still. He blindly reached out to bury his fingers in Sirius’s hair, smiling when he realised that the strange prickling sensation preceding Sirius’s lips moving down his cock was caused by his moustache. Fuck, Sirius was good at sucking cock. Harry couldn’t understand how anyone could have ever turned Sirius down, they’d have to be straight to say no to this. Harry didn’t tense when Sirius added another finger and Sirius moaned briefly around his cock, the vibrations drawing more desperate sounds from Harry. He stretched him slowly—too slowly, Harry couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m ready, c’mon Sirius.” He couldn’t help his sigh of disappointment as Sirius’s fingers and mouth left him, shuffling his knees closer before leaning in for a kiss. He pulled back a little and Harry could feel Sirius’s cock brushing teasingly over his hole. The pressure started and Harry braced himself, eyes closed but then the pressure left. Harry opened his eyes. Sirius was looking down at him with a small smile playing at his lips.
“Breathe.”
Harry laughed out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Sirius kissed him softly as he pushed inside.
Harry’s toes curled. He breathed deeply and loosened his grip on Sirius’s biceps. Sirius slid in a little further, watching him closely. Harry nodded and Sirius began to fuck him slowly.
Harry was so caught up in forgotten sensations; the fullness of a cock inside him, his own cock caught between their stomachs, the tongue flicking across his nipple. He tried to unfog his brain, he was missing too much. His eyes followed his hands as they started to explore, up Sirius’s toned arms, down across his hair-flecked chest, round to rest in the small of his back where he tugged encouragingly. Sirius picked up the pace and Harry looked up, really looked straight at him. The intensity with which Sirius gazing down at him took Harry’s breath away. It was slightly unnerving, yet somehow exhilarating.
“Close your eyes, Harry,” Sirius barked gruffly. Harry’s shock must have shown on his face, because Sirius’s expression faltered briefly before he leant in to whisper against Harry’s ear. “Just feel. Enjoy. Let me do this for you.” Sirius punctuated his sentence by sucking Harry’s lobe into his mouth.
“Fuck, Sirius,” Harry moaned as he let his eyes drift closed again.
He felt Sirius’s weight shift, felt fingers digging into his hips and Sirius was fucking him hard, his breath coming in ragged bursts. A hand wrapped around his cock, pumping fast in time with the thrusts and Harry came, head thrown back as he arched and moaned. The hand that was on his cock returned to his hip as Sirius furiously chased his own climax, Harry’s muscles still fluttering around him. Harry had returned to his senses just enough to notice that Sirius’s orgasm cry sounded suspiciously like ‘Ja—aaaaahhh’.
As Sirius pulled out and fell down on the bed beside him, Harry’s mind was working at a million miles a minute. He remembered something Remus had told him a couple of years ago, it had been along the lines of ‘I can hardly remember a time when Sirius wasn’t emotionally unavailable’. Harry tried to put it all together. He could hardly believe it, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
“Alright?” Sirius asked quietly, cautiously.
Harry went to sit up, but his arse complained and he thought better of it, propping himself up on one elbow instead.
“You used to be in love with James Potter.” It wasn’t quite a question.
Sirius’s jaw tensed briefly. He let out a sigh, looked Harry straight in the eye and said, “I am in love with James Bloody Potter. I think he knew but, he was straight, we never spoke about it.”
Harry felt conflicted, but anger was starting to win out. “Did you actually just use me to act out a fantasy about you and my dad?” he snapped.
Sirius looked guilty, but his tone was defiant. “Whose idea was it? Which one of us has been pushing for this to happen?” Harry looked away, he knew he couldn’t deny that. “You made it very clear you wanted to use me for sex.”
“But, you didn’t tell me, I didn’t know that—” fuck, this was a bizarre conversation to be having. Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to even think ‘well, I didn’t know I’d be role-playing my own father’.
“Do you have some complaint about the way I performed?” Sirius didn’t smile, but the mischievous glint in his eye was unmistakable.
Another very good point, Harry knew. That was one of the best fucks Harry had ever had. As wrong as it seemed that he’d slept with a man who’s in love with one of his parents, the thought of never getting to do it again was worse. Just the idea of more sex with Sirius had him half hard again already. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Sirius, who was scooting closer with a smirk on his lips.
Sirius’s hand rested on Harry’s hip, his thumb drawing lazy circles against his skin as he leant in.
“No more pretending I’m him,” Harry whispered against his lips, but he knew the look in his eyes showed how much he meant it.
“I think that’s for the best,” Sirius muttered, closing the gap.
As Sirius’s tongue slid into his mouth, warm and welcome, Harry wondered if his life would ever be simple. Then again, if it meant more of that sinfully talented tongue, maybe complicated was the way to go.
Harry rolled onto his back, pulling Sirius on top of him for round two.
Fin
Author:
llaeyroPairing: Sirius/Harry, Harry/Lee Jordan (briefly)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~6k
Summary: Voldemort is dead. Hogwarts is restored. The Ministry is stable. Harry Potter is horny.
Warnings: Age difference, anal, strong language, UST (but it does get resolved, promise!).
Disclaimer: The characters and the universe belong to Rowling, I do this for fun and don’t make a single knut.
A/N: AU—Sirius lives. For non-Brits, a ‘butty’ is a type of buttered sandwich with a hot filling. This is for
digthewriter, and it didn’t turn out exactly how I thought it would, (it was supposed to be smut, I have no idea where all the feels came from,) so I hope you like it anyway! All my love belongs to the incredible shiftylinguini who not only beta-ed for me, but got her pompoms out too and without her this would be yet another fic in my pile labelled unfinished. <3As soon as they stumbled out into the brisk night air, Harry found himself pushed against the wall of the club. He smiled up at Lee Jordan, giving in hungrily when he leant down for another kiss. Harry gasped as he felt Lee’s bulge against his thigh.
“Your place?” he panted. Lee winced.
“Parents, you know…” he’d started casually, but then he seemed to realise what he’d said, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry.” Harry had long since grown used to accidental throw-away comments.
Harry dismissed it with a quick shake of his head. “My place?” He looked hopefully up into large brown eyes.
Lee grinned as he pressed his lips to Harry’s once more.
Harry stumbled against the front door when they Apparated—partly due to the alcohol and partly down to Lee’s lips locked firmly on his collarbone, his hands exploring Harry’s hips. When had Lee undone his top two shirt buttons anyway?
As soon as they were inside number twelve, Lee had him up against the wall again. The man jumped when the lamps flickered on, to reveal Sirius standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Oh, don’t stop defiling my hallway on my account, by all means,” he said with a false lightness, barely containing his irritation. Sirius made his way up the stairs. Harry had pulled Lee back in to resume kissing by the time Sirius called down: “And Harry, be a dear and fuck in your own bedroom tonight. If it’s not too much trouble…”
Harry inwardly cringed and hoped Lee wouldn’t be put off. He tried to kiss him again, but Lee pulled away.
“Sorry, Harry. This was a mistake.”
Harry let his head thud back against the wall. He watched Lee walk out of the door without a word. He could have pleaded his case, but it hardly seemed worth the effort. Who would actually believe that the ‘Chosen One’ hadn’t gotten laid since Hogwarts? When you ruled out women, straight guys, people looking to sell a story and those wanting something more serious, Harry was starting to feel he wasn’t left with many options. He’d even tried a Muggle bar once, but obviously they couldn’t go back to Harry’s and all the blokes Harry had tried chatting up either lived with their parents, their wife or a flat mate they hadn’t come out to yet. All he wanted was someone to fuck him into the mattress. Was that so much to ask? He had saved the fucking world, after all. Why did it have to be so complicated?
Harry trudged upstairs. He heard the floorboards creak as he passed the drawing room, but kept moving.
“Lost your acquisition?” Sirius’s voice stopped him at the foot of the stairs. Harry scowled and stepped forward, into the light of the single lamp on the wall.
“Yeah and now I’m stuck with this not-so-little problem,” Harry crudely gestured at his own crotch, “Thanks to you.”
“Oh you poor thing, would you like me to run you a nice cold shower?” Sirius really laid on the false sympathy.
“Are you offering to give me a hand?” Harry raised an eyebrow, smirking when Sirius balked.
“Go to bed, you little shit,” he grumbled, yet he couldn’t seem to help a small smile as he cuffed Harry lightly round the head and followed him up the stairs.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Harry woke up, he didn’t open his eyes. He just laid there on his side, making the most of the blissful, problem-free moment which he knew the slightest movement would destroy. He pulled the covers slowly off of his face and harsh light filtered through his closed eyelids; definitely time to get up, then.
He tentatively raised his head off the pillow and was surprised when it didn’t instantly start to thrum. Harry realised he really needed a piss, so he threw back the covers and slung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept through him; he steadied himself with both hands on the nightstand. Harry took a deep breath and reluctantly opened his eyes to peek through his lashes. ‘Ouch. Eurgh,’ thought Harry: that being the current extent of his self-assessment skills. He got up slightly shakily and walked, hunched over, to the door. He kicked last night’s jeans across the floor and out of his way, his wand clattering as it fell out of the pocket. Harry frowned as he leant to pick it up; it wasn’t like him to just leave his wand lying about. As he straightened up, he spotted the bottle of firewhisky that he’d emptied after returning home. ‘Oh yeah, that… That would explain it,’ he thought. He noticed a small piece of parchment sticking out from under the bottle and peered over at it.
‘Pepperup’s in the kitchen.’
Git. Sirius usually brought it up for him. Harry considered skipping the potion and just going back to bed to sleep it off. For Sirius to come up at least two flights just to stick the note there when he could have brought the potion up, Harry knew he must be on his high-horse again and this was part of making his point. Harry groaned his despair as he plodded to the bathroom to relieve himself.
Harry stepped under the almost too-hot stream of water, just letting the heat soak into his muscles as the water trickled over him. He tried to recall what he could of last night. As unwelcome as Sirius’s involvement had been, it did seem to support Harry’s theory that Sirius was jealous of Harry’s late night pursuits. He wondered if he could use that jealousy to his advantage; Sirius was not in bad shape, after all. He wouldn’t go to the press, he wouldn’t treat Harry like he was made of glass, they already live together so they could hook up whenever they wanted and he didn’t have to worry about the other person wanting to take things more seriously—Sirius had already made his position very clear on that subject. When Molly had tried to arrange blind dates for him and ignored his polite refusals, Sirius had launched into a vehement tirade as to why he could never settle down, as well as detailing his ‘needs’ rather graphically. He’d never seen Molly blush so furiously. At the time, Harry had wondered who had hurt Sirius so badly that he didn’t want to risk another relationship, but now he was too preoccupied with the thought that Sirius was just the person he’d been looking for to shag him senseless.
Harry felt slightly less like an Inferius after the long shower. He was about to return to his bedroom, still seriously contemplating going back to bed, when a gorgeous smell caught his attention. Bacon. Harry’s unhappy stomach gurgled. He turned around and headed down the stairs, towel fixed around his waist.
“Morning, Hans,” Sirius called cheerily as Harry descended the steps into the kitchen.
“What?” Harry asked disinterestedly. His voice was hoarse, he tried to clear it as he took the nearest chair at the table.
“Hans Solo,” Sirius supplied as he brought the platters of bacon and buttered bread over. Harry raised his eyebrows, looking at Sirius blankly.
“From Star Wars, you know, that Muggle film with the glowing wands they bash each other with, and—”
“Yeah,” interrupted Harry, trying not to get agitated with Sirius so early in the day, “I know who that is, I don’t know why you’re calling me it.”
“Hans Solo,” Sirius repeated, helping himself to breakfast, “because you went out on the pull and ended up choking the chicken, solo.” Sirius grinned, looking far too pleased with himself as he tucked into his butty.
“Pepperup?” Harry sighed, his hand propping his head up as he leant his elbow on the table. He was unfortunately growing used to Sirius’s horrible euphemisms and questionable humour.
Sirius pushed a flask across the table and Harry downed it in one, shortly followed by a rasher of bacon. Harry assembled a sandwich as he felt the potion start to take the edge off.
“It’s your fault anyway.”
“What’s my fault?” Sirius frowned.
Harry swallowed his mouthful before replying. “That I ended up solo last night. You scared him off.”
“Yeah, I guess I was out of order. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that, I was just frustrated.”
“When’s the last time you got laid?”
Sirius nearly choked on his bacon. “I didn’t mean that, I mean it’s frustrating to see you throwing yourself at men meaninglessly.”
“You’re dodging the question.” Harry grinned.
“Because it’s none of your bloody business.” He sounded indignant.
“That’s ‘Sirius’ for too fucking long ago.”
“It’s ‘Sirius’ for keep your nose out.” Sirius pointed his finger at Harry threateningly.
“Oh come on,” Harry sighed, as he leaned back in his chair, “You know I haven’t got any gay friends. There’s no one I can talk to about this stuff, why do you always shut me out?”
“I’m your guardian, it’s weird… Plus, I don’t see why you care when I last got laid.”
“Because you get bitchy when you’re frustrated.”
“I do not.” Sirius looked as though he was trying not to pout. Harry couldn’t help but smile. “Can we please talk about something else?
“Fine, do you prefer to top or bottom?”
“That is definitely none of your business.”
Harry surveyed him incredulously. “Preferring to bottom doesn’t make you any less of a man.”
“That’s nothing to do with it.” Sirius stood up, collecting the empty plates and taking them to the sink.
“I’m a bottom.”
“Oh.” Sirius sounded disinterested, but the way he scrubbed at the pans in the sink rather than using his wand looked to Harry like the actions of a man trying to distract himself.
He shifted in his seat, to better face Sirius; knees fallen comfortably apart, towel barely covering the essentials.
“Yeah, I love being stretched, filled, drilled into the mattress—”
“Harry that is far too much information.” He turned, looking peeved, but his expression soon softened as his eyes fell to Harry’s towel. He quickly turned back to the sink. “You’re making me uncomfortable, you need to stop talking like that.”
“Are you sure it’s my talking that’s making you uncomfortable and not the hard on you’ve got there?”
Sirius sighed and ceased scrubbing. “You’re right, it has been too long.”
Harry wanted to get up, press himself against Sirius, but he held back. He didn’t want to come on too strong, and he definitely didn’t want to make things awkward between them. At least if he kept things light, they could just laugh it off later. “Maybe I could help you with that.”
Sirius whipped around, the threatening finger out again. “Now hold it right there. I’m too old for you, I’m your godfather—your guardian—and your father was my… my best friend. You need to stop throwing yourself at everyone. End of.” Harry sat up, trying to make himself slightly more decent by adjusting his towel. All thoughts of keeping the conversation light were forgotten as Harry’s anger at the strength of Sirius’s rebuttal swelled.
“You’re only as old as you feel, and you act like a teenager half the time. I’m an adult, I can look after myself and my father—” Harry cut himself off. It wasn’t in either of their interests for Harry to finish that sentence. He sighed, head in his hands. “It’s been nearly two years since I had a shag, Sirius. I need to let off some steam.”
Sirius threw himself down in the chair next to Harry’s with a huff. “Look, why don’t we go out tonight? I’ll be your wingman.”
Harry didn’t hold out much hope, but Sirius was trying. “Yeah, why not.” Harry smiled, already wondering how he could turn the night to his advantage.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The more he’d thought about it, and he’d thought about it all day, the more it made sense. He had to have Sirius. That is why Harry had already changed his mind about what to wear six times, over just three t-shirts and two pairs of shoes. Back in his snug white t-shirt, jeans and loafers, he ran a hand pointlessly through his hair as he frowned at himself in the mirror. They were hitting wizarding bars tonight, so Harry wanted to blend into the crowd to avoid getting spotted, but hopefully gain the right sort of attention from the desired person.
He headed downstairs, slowing at the bottom of the last flight as he took in Sirius’s appearance. Whenever Sirius had gone out on the pull, Harry had already been out, and Sirius was back and in his casuals before Harry got back. Looking at him now, he couldn’t understand why the man didn’t have more success. His facial hair was neatly trimmed into a goatee, slightly longer in the moustache, his wavy hair hanging freely around his shoulders. He’d picked a simple black shirt that was only done up two thirds of the way, revealing a generous expanse of chest hair and tucked into his dark denims. The shiny, high-topped, blood-red Dr Martens were an unexpected touch; the leather jacket, not so much.
“Earth to Harry?”
“Sorry, you look,” Harry came down the last step, trying to clear his suddenly dry throat, “You scrub up well.”
Sirius’s smile seemed slightly wary. “Cheers. Well, I thought I might as well see if I can make an impression on anyone.”
Harry Apparated them to a quiet London back street, and started walking, Sirius at his side.
“So,” Sirius started, cheerily, “Who are we on the lookout for tonight?”
“Male, not straight, not married, not only interested because I saved the world, not going to sell his story, not too camp, not exclusively a bottom.”
“Right. Tall or blond or dark or young?”
Harry gave him the side-eye. “You really think I can afford to add any more criteria to that list? Why do you think it’s been two years?”
Sirius chuckled, “The scene can’t be that bad…”
Harry stopped and pointed to indicate they’d arrived. Sirius held the door open for him and they stepped inside. It was a gay pub; not too large, cosy, mostly older men by that time as the others have had their pre-drinks and headed into the clubs.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sirius grumbled over Harry’s shoulder.
He turned to face him, “I know it’s not quite what you had in mind, but it’s quiet. If someone does recognise me… things don’t get as hectic.”
“It’s a bloody wrinkle room!” Sirius hissed quietly.
Harry tried not to laugh, “Most of them are about your age!”
“Yeah, but they look it.” Sirius straightened out his jacket haughtily.
“One drink?” Harry smiled sweetly. Sirius huffed, giving in and heading to the bar.
When they had their drinks, they perched on a couple of high stools by the window. Sirius leant across, keeping his voice low. “I thought you wanted to get laid, why are we wasting time in here?”
“Like I said, less drama. And anyway, I want a good lay. I don’t want to waste time with someone who hasn’t got a fucking clue. With age, comes experience.”
Sirius didn’t look convinced. “You’ve never come home with an older bloke before.” Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius cut him off. “Not this much older.”
“With my experience, that of failing to get screwed, comes wisdom.” Harry grinned.
“Ok, any potential in here then?”
“At first glance there is, but then,” Harry nodded in the direction of a couple standing at the bar, “they’re together,” he nodded to a table in the corner, “he’s got a wedding ring on and a guy behind you has got a tan line where he’s taken his off for the night.” Sirius casually surveyed the room, subtly checking out the guys Harry had indicated. His eyes narrowed. True, two of the guys had long hair, one also with a goatee, they were all nearer Sirius’s age than Harry’s and in good shape. There was a resemblance, but that’s just because Sirius was Harry’s type. Maybe not for a relationship, but for this. Okay, so maybe the oldest of the bunch, with the long hair, isn’t who Harry would usually go for. Maybe he was trying to make a little bit of a point. Just a little.
“Okay, so this stop was a bust. Can we go to a proper gay bar now?”
Harry nodded and they downed the rest of their drinks.
The club was loud and busy, but not overly crowded. Harry tensed up. At least when he had to shove himself up against people to squeeze through the crowd, there was less chance of being spotted at a distance. They leant against the bar with their drinks in silence, watching the dance floor. Well, Harry was watching the dance floor. As critical as Sirius had been of Harry ordering a ‘frilly drink’, he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of Harry every time he sucked at his straw.
“Sirius, how do you expect to find me a date if you’re just staring at me all night?”
Sirius clenched his jaw until the song changed. “I love this song! Come on, Harry.” He tried to tug Harry out into the writhing masses, but Harry resisted.
“No! I do not do dancing!”
“Well, you’re not going to find someone by propping the bar up, you need to be proactive.” Harry shook his head stubbornly. “Either you come and dance, or you pay a forfeit. You down a shot of my choice.”
“I’ll take the shot.” Harry answered with a shrug.
Sirius leant over the bar to be heard above the music and shortly a dark brown sticky looking liquid was placed in front of Harry in a shot glass. “What is it?” Harry asked, wrinkling his nose as he sniffed the bitter liqueur.
“The Prongs Special,” Sirius winked. He watched Harry down the shot with a grimace before heading off to the dance floor. Harry lost sight of him in the crowd for a while, hypnotised by the steady beat of the music and the swirl of colours and lighting effects. A flash of red boot caught his attention as the crowd shifted, bringing Sirius into view. Harry hadn’t really thought about Sirius’s dancefloor prowess before, but he supposed he had been expecting him to be of the dad-dancing standard. As Harry watched him move to the music, he felt his first real surge of lust for the man. Sirius seemed to lose himself to the rhythm, without getting carried away and looking ridiculous—as Harry was sure he would if he ever dared try. He was fucking sexy. As well as single, gay, experienced and, Harry was fairly sure, a top.
Harry had just about decided to brave it and head over, when he spotted an unwelcome face in the crowd. He urgently waved the barman over and ordered a pint of lager. His drink and change arrived on the bar just as the man Harry really hadn’t wanted to bump into stepped up beside him.
“Can I get you a drink?” The short blond wizard leered at Harry, who just raised his full pint with a shrug. He couldn’t even count how many times Joel had tried it on with him. Harry had even decided he just couldn’t take a hint and told him flat out, yet still he persisted. Joel wasn’t unhandsome, a bit on the short side and very conscious of it, but alright otherwise. He was just a bit too well-groomed for Harry; he’d dread to think of the consequences if he took this guy home and he broke a nail while they were going at it. He just didn’t need that kind of drama in his life.
“I’d noticed you haven’t been around for a while.” He was leaning in close, under the pretence of being heard; totally oblivious of Harry leaning away, trying to regain his personal space.
“Yeah, I’ve been, busy.”
“Look, I’m going to cut to the chase, I was hoping I’d catch you here again—”
Harry felt a strong hand on his hip pulling him sideways, away from Joel, and into a firm chest with a familiar musk. He looked across, straight into Sirius’s eyes.
“Everything alright, babe?” Sirius purred, glancing from Harry to look warily at Joel, and back again. Sirius reached up, smoothing a strand of Harry’s hair behind his ear.
Harry played along, lifting a hand to Sirius’s chest, letting his fingers absently card through his chest hair. “Of course,” he smiled up at Sirius, “Joel was just wondering where I’ve been hiding lately.”
Sirius chuckled easily. “I’m afraid that would be my fault. Who wants to go out for the night when you could stay home with this?” Harry let out a rather undignified squeal and jumped as Sirius’s hand slipped from his hip to squeeze his arse. He knew his face probably matched the colour of Sirius’s shoes, but he forced a coy smile. “It was nice to meet you, Joel.” Sirius started to steer Harry away, but Joel offered out his hand too quickly.
“You too, uh, sorry. I didn’t quite catch your name.”
“Sirius,” he said with a false smile, taking the proffered hand briefly. Realisation struck Joel’s face; the sideways look from Sirius told Harry that he’d seen it too. Harry jerked his head toward the exit. Sirius nodded, taking Harry’s hand and leading him swiftly through the club. When they finally broke out into the street, they heard the clamour of voices in the club rising.
“There!” they heard from behind them, “I told you it was him, Sirius Black!”
Sirius was just standing there, Harry’s hand still in his, looking dumbly up and down the street. Not taking the time to look behind them, Harry pulled Sirius away.
“Come on!” They ran, slipping down a side street before Apparating back home.
Sirius, still slightly breathless, followed Harry upstairs and joined him in flopping onto the sofa in the drawing room. Harry started to laugh, still puffing.
“What’s so funny?” Sirius huffed.
“You.” Harry chuckled, head tipped back against the cushions, eyes closed. “Why the fuck did you tell him your real name?”
“From what I gather, he’s tried and failed on several occasions to chat up Harry Potter, so why should my name be an issue? I have been publicly vindicated…”
“You’re a bloody celebrity, you idiot! And besides,” Harry turned to Sirius and shoved his hair out of the way, presenting the clear, unmarked forehead of the Glamour Harry had set up for the night. “I managed to convince him months ago that my name was David. I still don’t think he totally bought it though.” After a moment of surprise, Sirius started chuckling too.
“Trust you to have a bloody alter-ego.”
“Trust you to think that pretending to be my boyfriend without an alter-ego was a good idea! I dread to think what’s in the papers tomorrow…”
“I thought I did a pretty good job of it, actually. You certainly seemed relieved.”
“I’m just so fed up with that guy crawling all over me.” He shuddered.
“Ok, so, maybe I understand now why you go out so often. I didn’t really appreciate how difficult it is for you to find someone, for what you need.” They smiled at each other for a moment, until Sirius winced.
“What’s wrong?”
“These boots were not made for running down alleyways.” He bent down to untie them and hissed as he toed them off.
Harry patted his lap, nodding at Sirius’s feet. “Come on,” he offered.
“Oh, no, they’re not that bad, really.”
“You saved my arse from that creep earlier, come on.” He patted his lap again and Sirius brought his feet up to rest on Harry’s leg. Harry cast quick cleaning and cooling charms and started rubbing. “I’m trying to say thanks, I guess.” Harry said, keeping his gaze on Sirius’s feet as he massaged carefully between his toes. “You didn’t have to do that. I mean, it can’t have been easy for you, having to pretend to be attracted to me.” Harry closed his eyes at the accidental bitterness in his voice. He felt Sirius swing his legs from Harry’s lap and scoot closer.
“Harry.” Sirius almost whispered, his hand resting lightly on Harry’s thigh. Harry looked up at him; he was so close now. “You are a very desirable young man. Never doubt that. I told you why I must keep my distance from your personal life. I promise you, those are the only reasons. They’re reason enough, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not a lack of attraction. You will find someone.”
Harry’s mind was reeling; Sirius was so close, he could smell his cologne, his hand was so warm and welcome on Harry’s thigh. His brain raced to filter through Sirius’s words but all that he could focus on was ‘desirable’ and ‘attraction’. It didn’t matter how much logic Sirius threw at the situation, the facts were clear; Sirius wanted him and was denying himself, probably for the large part because of his loyalty to Harry’s father.
’Fuck it,’ thought Harry, and he brought his lips to Sirius’s. Sirius held still beneath him at first, until Harry ran his hand slowly up Sirius’s inner thigh from the knee and Sirius melted beneath him, kissing back, hands wandering, pulling Harry closer. Harry hadn’t kissed anyone with a moustache before; it was odd, but in a nice way. Boldly, Harry brushed his hand across Sirius’s bulge. With a groan of frustration, Sirius pushed Harry away and bolted off of the sofa. He stared back at Harry, hands tangled in his own hair, lust and guilt and confusion and numerous other emotions warring on his face.
“I said no,” Sirius said weakly, sadly. He closed his eyes. “Why can’t you see how wrong it is?”
“Why can’t you see that I need you, Sirius?” Sirius turned away, but Harry persisted. He stood but didn’t leave the sofa. “It’s true. You won’t use me because of who I am, you won’t make things complicated—”
“Won’t—Complicated; what?!” Sirius spun around, hands out in front of him in disbelieving exasperation, “What part of this isn’t fucking complicated!?”
Harry didn’t rise to it, he just shrugged. “We know each other well enough to know what we both want from life. All I want from you… It’s just sex. It’s only complicated if you let it be.”
Sirius’s tense posture dropped. He considered Harry for a moment, head tilted to one side, before letting loose a long sigh and heading towards the door. Harry went to follow him but stopped when Sirius held up a flat hand, back still to Harry, and shook his head. Harry let him go.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It had been two days, and Harry couldn’t have had more than five minutes alone with Sirius. All of a sudden Sirius had errands to run every day, and people to meet for dinner. Not today, though. At breakfast, he had made Sirius swear that it would just be the two of them, having dinner together tonight. Harry had promised they didn’t need to talk. He planned to do as little talking as possible tonight.
He felt nervous and a little ridiculous as he lay, sprawled out and naked, on his bed. He checked the time before throwing his head back onto the pillow and reaching for his limp cock. He hardened quickly in his own hand, stroking slowly as he planned for, fantasized about, what may happen later.
He faintly heard Sirius call from downstairs. “Harry! It’s nearly ready.”
About ten minutes passed. He heard stairs creaking below, getting slowly closer and closer.
“Harry?”
He was just one floor below now. More creaking of steps. Harry’s breathing quickened; he squeezed slightly harder as he carried on pumping himself slowly, trying to counter the fear starting to build inside of him.
“Harry, are you alright?” Right. Outside. The door. “Harry?” The door started to open. Harry threw his head back against the pillow, concentrating on the good sensations.
“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to barge... you could have—put some bloody charms up next time!” Sirius was half turned away as he blustered, seemingly not knowing where to look. Harry propped himself up, other hand still working his cock, smiling softly at Sirius. Sirius gave him a quick glance over his shoulder. He laughed bitterly, but there was amusement and wonder in his voice when he spoke. “You little shit.”
He closed the door behind him.
Harry was up, ear to the door. After a pause, Sirius moved to the left. Shit, that’s the stairs to go down... Where was the creak? Shit, he was coming back. Harry leapt onto the bed, trying to look calm, but the footsteps kept going. There was a melody of ascending creaks. Harry could only think of one reason for Sirius to go up to his room right now, and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to see his plan through. He waited to hear the door close above as he grabbed his wand. He gave it another beat to let Sirius set the charms, then he was out the room and up the stairs, still stark naked, a cursory hand on his cock to stop it from bouncing around uncomfortably.
Harry pointed his wand at Sirius’s door, his heart pumping madly in his chest, thrumming in his ears. “Bombarda.”
Harry stepped onto the flattened door as the dust cleared, revealing Sirius sitting on the end of the bed with his trousers halfway down his thighs and his cock in hand, looking rather surprised. When he snapped out of the initial shock, he tucked himself back into his trousers, not bothering to do them up. Harry stood there, breathless from bolting up the stairs, watching Sirius watching him. He didn’t know what else he could do; he hadn’t really let himself plan this far ahead, for fear of getting his hopes up. So he just stood there, naked and hard, watching the changes in Sirius’s expression as he internally battled with himself.
“I don’t do relationships,” he said, finally.
“I know.” Harry answered quickly. Sirius didn’t reply straight away; his eyes raked slowly up and down Harry’s body, taking in every inch of him.
Sirius got to his feet and moved closer, a hand on his waistband to keep his unbuttoned trousers up. “Harry,” he muttered gruffly, as he reached out to cup Harry’s cheek, grey eyes locked on his, “I can’t love you.”
Harry nodded slightly as he swallowed, trying to sooth his suddenly dry throat. “It’s just sex,” he tried to say with conviction, but it came out shaky—Sirius was right there, so close, Harry just wanted to close the gap and kiss him. Instead, he took hold of the hand on his cheek and led it to his lips, slowly kissing each knuckle, keeping his gaze on Sirius.
Sirius let out a long, shuddering breath as his resolve finally seemed to snap. He grabbed Harry, one hand around his neck and the other around his waist and pulled them together into a deep kiss. Harry kissed back hungrily, his hands trying to explore the body before him but there were too many clothes in the way. Not a second after he had thought it, the clothes were gone. Harry vaguely registered that he should really stop accidentally perform wordless magic; he was thankful that it wasn’t with a Muggle this time. The way Sirius smiled into the kiss and brushed his hard cock against Harry’s, he guessed Sirius didn’t mind Harry’s impatience.
“Bed,” Sirius growled between kisses, releasing Harry and going to the chest of drawers.
Harry bolted onto the bed and laid on his back. Sirius unscrewed the pot he’d taken from a drawer as he approached the bed and settled between Harry’s legs. Harry brought his knees up, feet flat on the bed either side of Sirius as he trailed slick fingers down Harry’s perineum to flick across his hole. Sirius shifted his weight and leant down, taking Harry’s cock into his mouth as the first finger breached him. Harry groaned loudly, fighting with himself to keep his hips still. He blindly reached out to bury his fingers in Sirius’s hair, smiling when he realised that the strange prickling sensation preceding Sirius’s lips moving down his cock was caused by his moustache. Fuck, Sirius was good at sucking cock. Harry couldn’t understand how anyone could have ever turned Sirius down, they’d have to be straight to say no to this. Harry didn’t tense when Sirius added another finger and Sirius moaned briefly around his cock, the vibrations drawing more desperate sounds from Harry. He stretched him slowly—too slowly, Harry couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m ready, c’mon Sirius.” He couldn’t help his sigh of disappointment as Sirius’s fingers and mouth left him, shuffling his knees closer before leaning in for a kiss. He pulled back a little and Harry could feel Sirius’s cock brushing teasingly over his hole. The pressure started and Harry braced himself, eyes closed but then the pressure left. Harry opened his eyes. Sirius was looking down at him with a small smile playing at his lips.
“Breathe.”
Harry laughed out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Sirius kissed him softly as he pushed inside.
Harry’s toes curled. He breathed deeply and loosened his grip on Sirius’s biceps. Sirius slid in a little further, watching him closely. Harry nodded and Sirius began to fuck him slowly.
Harry was so caught up in forgotten sensations; the fullness of a cock inside him, his own cock caught between their stomachs, the tongue flicking across his nipple. He tried to unfog his brain, he was missing too much. His eyes followed his hands as they started to explore, up Sirius’s toned arms, down across his hair-flecked chest, round to rest in the small of his back where he tugged encouragingly. Sirius picked up the pace and Harry looked up, really looked straight at him. The intensity with which Sirius gazing down at him took Harry’s breath away. It was slightly unnerving, yet somehow exhilarating.
“Close your eyes, Harry,” Sirius barked gruffly. Harry’s shock must have shown on his face, because Sirius’s expression faltered briefly before he leant in to whisper against Harry’s ear. “Just feel. Enjoy. Let me do this for you.” Sirius punctuated his sentence by sucking Harry’s lobe into his mouth.
“Fuck, Sirius,” Harry moaned as he let his eyes drift closed again.
He felt Sirius’s weight shift, felt fingers digging into his hips and Sirius was fucking him hard, his breath coming in ragged bursts. A hand wrapped around his cock, pumping fast in time with the thrusts and Harry came, head thrown back as he arched and moaned. The hand that was on his cock returned to his hip as Sirius furiously chased his own climax, Harry’s muscles still fluttering around him. Harry had returned to his senses just enough to notice that Sirius’s orgasm cry sounded suspiciously like ‘Ja—aaaaahhh’.
As Sirius pulled out and fell down on the bed beside him, Harry’s mind was working at a million miles a minute. He remembered something Remus had told him a couple of years ago, it had been along the lines of ‘I can hardly remember a time when Sirius wasn’t emotionally unavailable’. Harry tried to put it all together. He could hardly believe it, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
“Alright?” Sirius asked quietly, cautiously.
Harry went to sit up, but his arse complained and he thought better of it, propping himself up on one elbow instead.
“You used to be in love with James Potter.” It wasn’t quite a question.
Sirius’s jaw tensed briefly. He let out a sigh, looked Harry straight in the eye and said, “I am in love with James Bloody Potter. I think he knew but, he was straight, we never spoke about it.”
Harry felt conflicted, but anger was starting to win out. “Did you actually just use me to act out a fantasy about you and my dad?” he snapped.
Sirius looked guilty, but his tone was defiant. “Whose idea was it? Which one of us has been pushing for this to happen?” Harry looked away, he knew he couldn’t deny that. “You made it very clear you wanted to use me for sex.”
“But, you didn’t tell me, I didn’t know that—” fuck, this was a bizarre conversation to be having. Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to even think ‘well, I didn’t know I’d be role-playing my own father’.
“Do you have some complaint about the way I performed?” Sirius didn’t smile, but the mischievous glint in his eye was unmistakable.
Another very good point, Harry knew. That was one of the best fucks Harry had ever had. As wrong as it seemed that he’d slept with a man who’s in love with one of his parents, the thought of never getting to do it again was worse. Just the idea of more sex with Sirius had him half hard again already. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Sirius, who was scooting closer with a smirk on his lips.
Sirius’s hand rested on Harry’s hip, his thumb drawing lazy circles against his skin as he leant in.
“No more pretending I’m him,” Harry whispered against his lips, but he knew the look in his eyes showed how much he meant it.
“I think that’s for the best,” Sirius muttered, closing the gap.
As Sirius’s tongue slid into his mouth, warm and welcome, Harry wondered if his life would ever be simple. Then again, if it meant more of that sinfully talented tongue, maybe complicated was the way to go.
Harry rolled onto his back, pulling Sirius on top of him for round two.
Fin
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Ahhh, I bloody love this haha! :D super hot, and I'm sitting here like shaking my head and smiling at the sex revelation Harry has haha.
I love that amongst everything you made the ending feel like a proper resolution, and kept it fun and sexy.
<333!!
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Thanks so much for writing it for me!!!
It's awesome.
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Glad you liked it, thanks for getting me into the pairing =D