Winter Rhapsody

Author: prostheticballerina
Rating: NC-17
Archiving: All FQF will be archived solely at this site until January 30th, 2005. After that, it's yours to do with as you will.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I do not own Harry Potter, its characters, or anything associated with it. I'm not making any money from this story, and I don't intend to.
Challenge & Summary: Challenge #32: Remus and Sirius make Christmas biscuits, until one decides the other is more tasty. Smut. The pups make cookies…and then they make out. Total PWP smutfest.
Author Notes: My first smut: I haven’t stopped blushing for months.

Remus Lupin was no chef. He was no baker, no bloody housewife, and he was utterly pants at making anything not out of a take-out carton. He had told Lily this, over and over, but she had simply looked at him with those nauseatingly large eyes, patted her belly, and eaten a pickle.
Disgusting. Abso-bloody-lutely disgusting. Then she’d done the second worst thing she could have possibly done (the first being handing the task over to Remus in the first place), and employed Sirius to help him. No doubt having some sickeningly romantic notion of what would go on during this cooking experience. Probably having fond notions of a lurid love affair consisting of mistletoe-sweet kisses and the sort of overbearing declarations of love so prevalent in her paperback romances.
So now Remus was stuck with an assortment of ingredients he barely knew what to do with, a useless dog of a man (literally) dipping his fingers in everything within his reach (including Remus’ eye, when he’d missed the powdered sugar), and a recipe covered in butter. Perfect. And the millions of cookies he had set out to make had to done in two hours, and only one batch was in the oven. Bloody wonderful.
Sirius, for his part, was having the time of his life. He’d eaten half the chocolate chips already, and the caffeine rushing through his veins left him zealous in his mission. He barely registered the homicidal rage lingering in the werewolf’s eyes, but did note the dollop of cookie dough on his nose. Sirius leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and before Remus could squeak out a protest, Sirius had licked his nose clean. He moved back, grinning, and tilted his head slightly, moving in once again but this time his focus was lower, his soft breath brushing Remus’ lips and –
The oven beeped loudly, causing Remus to jump a foot and slip quickly out of Sirius’ grasp, looking anywhere but his friend’s face.
They had done this before, this dance of one step forward, two steps back. It was routine, it was safe, and it was confusing as hell. Sirius, for one, wanted it to end right then and there. Remus, however, didn’t seem to be fazed at all; he was poking the cookies tenderly to check their gooeyness, and when he was satisfied, he made quite the show of preparing the next batch. Grinning wickedly, Sirius dipped one finger into the batter as Remus was leaning down and opening the oven. When he came up again, he found his friend with one finger in his mouth, and was about to give him a good talking to about personal hygiene in the kitchen, when Sirius met his eyes. They were glowing, unusually bright, and Remus watched as the finger in Sirius’ mouth slowly moved out, slick with spit and cookie dough. Sucking it leisurely, Sirius made sure to open his mouth, displaying his tongue, wrapped around the digit, and rolled his eyes back, making the very innocent action of cleaning away cookie dough look like something from an X-rated pornography.
Remus had a spot of trouble remembering how to breathe, and turned away to hide any embarrassing evidence of his arousal.
Sirius frowned, having been sure his provocative display would elicit some sort of reaction other than the blank look he had received. He looked around, wondering what he could do to melt his ice princess – er, prince. Sirius watched Remus’ arse for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought, and when Remus turned to face him finally, he saw Sirius’ eyes burn a trail up his torso, to meet his eyes. Then Sirius abruptly turned away, leaving Remus confused and cold. It always seemed Sirius was playing with him at times like these, winding him up and leaving him feeling pulled tightly, stretched out of proportion. He absolutely hated it.
Caught up in his inner ramblings, Remus failed to notice Sirius when he dug his hand into the large bowl of batter, but heard his name being called. Looking up, he didn’t have time to react at all to the attack of uncooked pastry that Sirius had chucked at his face. Sputtering in indignation, Remus stared in shock at Sirius, who was trying, with no luck at all, to hide his chuckling behind his hand. Eyes (near blinded by stray batter) narrowing, Remus reached his hand over to the bowl stealthily, Sirius being too busy laughing to notice. He stopped immediately when he found his hair being smeared with dough, with Remus trying to sneak away, amusement clear on his face. Sirius pounced, knocking Remus onto the ground, and, wary of the limbs flailing dangerously around him, rolled on top of him. He straddled Remus’ waste, and groped the table top above them for something to attack with. Finding something that was certainly smooth and creamy, he lifted it in triumph. He struggled against Remus’ thrashing limbs, and managed to smear the substance, which turned out to be butter, all over Remus’ neck and top. The man under him grunted, half amused and half irritated, and arched his pelvis bone straight upward in his attempts to push Sirius off. Unfortunately, he met Sirius’ groin perfectly, eliciting a sharp sting of pleasure throughout the Animagi’s body. Trying very hard to look like he had fallen off, Sirius moved gracefully off Remus as to not let his very, very reactive lower body become noticeable. He didn’t want to scare the poor man off just yet. It was delicious, this foreplay, and not only because it involved absolutely luscious chocolate chip cookie dough. Remus looked delectable lying there, his chest heaving and his upper body covered in various ingredients. Sirius had a sudden urge to lean in and follow the trail of butter with his tongue, swirl it around his Adam’s apple, and found himself getting hard just from the thought of what Remus’ neck might taste like. Remus seemed to have other plans though, as he looked around wildly for something to fling. He didn’t care that these ingredients had been expensive, and all their friends would be over soon and they didn’t have near enough cookies for them all. All he wanted was to have some fun alone with Sirius, and if a food fight would get him that, then so be it. Remus jumped to his feet, grabbed a bowl of powdered sugar, and held it over Sirius, an evil grin spreading across his face. Sirius’ eyes had time only to register the intentions of his companion, and to widen in vain …

When the puff of white powder cleared around Sirius’ face, he could see Remus clutching his stomach in laughter. All that could be seen of Sirius’ upper half was white, except for the two gleaming grey eyes, smokey with something indescribable. Sirius roared, staring down at himself, which only proved to amuse Remus further. Rubbing his face did nothing but get more sugar in his eyes, so Sirius ripped his top over his head, using the clean inside to wipe his face and hair. He was already plotting his revenge on Remus, but his friend’s mind was not at all on the fight. Rather, he lingered on Sirius’ lovely, toned chest, tanned from a summer at James’ house and wonderfully fit. Remus felt rather silly, his loose robes hiding a slim, pale chest. He had sinewy muscles, but was covered in thin, long scars, both from many full moons past.
Remus had to close his mouth to prevent drooling, and this time Sirius saw the reaction. And, in true Black spirit, took complete advantage of his friend’s sudden inability to think straight. Although, it appeared to him that nothing about Remus was straight, so to speak. Grinning and tossing his top aside, Sirius glided slowly up to Remus, who was recovering and had taken to watching him with suspicious eyes. Looking like a large cat in heat, Sirius sidled closer, and Remus responded by slowly moving away. His back hit the refrigerator door, and very suddenly, Sirius was on him, his chest pressed to Remus’ and his hands placed on either side of his intended’s body. Leaning into Remus’ neck, Sirius took a moment so breathe in his scent, all sweat and anxiety, mixed with a dash of curiosity. Then, almost experimentally, he flicked his tongue out, tasting the beautiful skin in front of him. It was delicious, the butter mixing with the salty sweat of Remus’ skin, and he heard a low groan escape his companion’s lips. The sounds made his neck vibrate pleasantly, and Sirius remembered his earlier wish, and sucked leisurely on the Adam’s apple in front of him. He moved down to the small dip between Remus’ collarbones, loving how his tongue fit perfectly in the crevice there. He moved to the other side of his neck, cleaning all the buttery skin until it gleamed brilliantly and he had Remus thrashing under him, moaning and shivering. Sirius was so hard it was becoming painful, not helped by the hands that gripped his arse, and he moved up to suck on Remus’ highly delectable ear lobe, grinding his erection into Remus’ thigh. Remus’ hands moved up Sirius’ back, scraping long red lines into his skin. His fingers reached silky hair, burying themselves in the dark locks. He shifted his body, rubbing his own crotch into Sirius’, causing the Animagi to pull away in surprise, eyes squeezed shut in what looked almost like pain. He choked, his hands sliding down the refrigerator door, and, no longer able to hold himself up, grasping Remus’ hips tightly. Remus, eager to reciprocate, reversed their positions easily, as Sirius seemed to be channeling his canine alter ego and almost humping Remus’ leg. The werewolf’s eyes rolled back in his head as his crotch rubbed deliciously against Sirius’ again. Then, he leaned down, and helped himself to that gorgeous span of sugary skin. He sucked lovingly, tasting every bit of Sirius he could reach, reducing him to mewling achingly against him. Just as Remus was about to kiss Sirius, properly for once, he felt a hand grope the front of his pants and all plans, or thoughts at all, flew out the window. Sirius was petting his erection, rubbing his hands up and down the jeans that covered it. Remus took deep breaths, trying to picture something utterly non-erotic so he wouldn’t finish this too early. He attempted to picture Lucius Malfoy doing the nasty with his house elves, and Dumbledore naked, and then even James and Lily going at it … but suddenly Sirius’ nimble fingers were pulling his fly down, and all thought of bestiality, naked Headmasters and heterosexual relationships flew out the window. His erection sprang free, only to have Sirius’ hands wrap around it quickly. His fingers ran under the base, teasing and torturing. His hand was quickly sleek with precome, and he moved his other to cup Remus’ balls gently, stroking tenderly. Remus grunted roughly, and the animalistic sound only proved to turn Sirius on even more. Soon Remus was tugging at Sirius’ pants, impatiently pulling them down for better access. They squeezed and stroked, faces inching closer, breath on their cheeks and sweat on their clothes. A particularly pleasant feeling coarsed through Sirius, and he thrust upwards, his sweaty arousal touching Remus’, feeling the familiar hardness and savouring it. He let go, and a moment later so did Remus, so the only sensation from below their wastes was the urgent rubbing of their lower halves together. Remus’ nails left crescent moons in Sirius’ shoulders, while the other’s hands crept up to take hold of the werewolf’s shirt, and drag his head forward, to finally meet Sirius’. Their parted lips touched briefly, slow and erotic, and Sirius groaned when Remus took his bottom lip between his teeth and bit lightly. The werewolf tugged and sucked, loving how Sirius’ blood red lips swelled under the assault. He pulled back to look down at his lover, the flushed face, closed eyes, the soft panting – all showing his submittance to Remus, his complete surrender. It was possibly the most beautiful, sacred thing Remus had ever experienced.

Impatient as ever, Sirius leaned up to crush their lips together, sliding his tongue past glistening, soft lips he had for so long craved to taste. Their tongues danced, entwined in a rough embrace, stopping only for air when absolutely needed. Sirius could feel his climax building quickly, and he ran his fingers through light brown hair, rubbing insistently against his lover, urging him to do the same. It wasn’t long before he exploded, followed easily by Remus, both sliding to the floor in a puddle of sweat and semen. Taking a moment to recover, Sirius bided his time gently licking the remnants of cookie batter off of Remus’ face. When he reached soft, pink lips, he licked them as well, and felt a smile grow beneath his tongue. A moment later, Remus had pushed Sirius away, leaving him in confusion and apprehension. He hadn’t thought of this moment: when Remus shoved him away and made his excuses, as well as short work of his emotions;
Sorry mate, it was fun while it lasted, but…
His stiff body relaxed, however, all his concerns melting, when he felt Remus shift slightly, and run his tongue along his jawline. He paused in his exploration to suck on Sirius’ pulsepoint, enjoying with decadence the impossibly fast race of his blood through his veins, just below his skin. So close, yet unbearably unreachable, and Remus wanted to crawl into Sirius’ skin, and hibernate there for eternity.
Until he solved the puzzle of how to do this, he contented himself with traveling down his lover’s body, nipping delicately at his body, pausing to draw a nipple into his mouth, enjoying the way Sirius arched against him. He slid his mouth over Sirius’ navel, and trailed the path of dark hair, nuzzling the black curls. Sirius smelled musky and sweaty, sex and sugar, and it made Remus delirious. Sirius was hardening once again, and both were glad for their young blood and insatiable desires. Hands wound through Remus’ hair, and a low moan crashing through the silence of the room when the Remus took him in his mouth. Sirius felt himself surrounded by heat, succulent and engulfing. He was losing himself completely, unaware of anything other than the pure sensation of that hot tongue swirling across his skin. Remus ran his teeth delicately along Sirius’ length, tasting the delicious, salty ejaculation that covered the skin. He pulled away, ignoring Sirius’ moans of frustration to kiss his thigh, gripping the muscle between his fingers, licking the sweat away almost tenderly. But his tongue was rough on Sirius’ leg, and he abandoned gentle and sucked hard, leaving a puckered red mark, proof of this thing between them, proof of his succumbing. Remus barely paused to admire his handiwork before he was yanked up by his lover, and found himself lying atop Sirius, every bit of skin possible touching, caressing, just that much closer to one. Not close enough, however, and Sirius began pulling Remus’ top roughly off of him; when it was tossed into the mess around them, he ran his fingers all over the smooth chest above him. He stroked each scar, leaning in to trace the ropes of flesh that made up the werewolf’s bite with his warm mouth. Sirius felt he had waited patiently for so long, and now was his only chance to do all the things he’d spent weeks (months, years, a decade?) fantasizing about. He heard Remus growl in unadultered need and shift above him, hard flesh bumping his own, and he spread his legs invitingly. Remus moved down slightly, positioning himself at Sirius’ entrance, leaning down to kiss his lover’s cheeks, eyelids, lips. He felt a hand, slick with what was probably butter from the floor, prepare him, and guide him into Sirius’ body. The other hand was clutching Remus’ hair tightly, as if afraid at any moment he would get up and leave. But Remus was pretty sure he was far beyond any logical thinking at this point, and he revelled in the vision under him: Sirius was arching up towards him, pressing their stomachs together, rubbing intimately. Remus choked, a dry sob, and that hand pulled him down again, his lips pressing hard to Sirius’, as he moved slowly inside him. Sirius was tighter than any woman Remus had ever had, his muscles clenching around him enticingly. Despite the strain of holding himself up, Remus lifted a hand to caress the span of skin before him, resting on his lover’s hip, nails biting into tender flesh. He withdrew slowly, eliciting an almost mewl from Sirius (though quite dignified, in Sirius’ opinion) and he plunged forwards again, the whimpers turning to outright groans of pleasure. Sirius met each thrust eagerly, clutching his own erection tightly, his eyes open and trained on the place where Remus’ crotch disappeared into Sirius’. It was awfully erotic, Remus watching Sirius watching them both, and Remus picked up the pace, his arms aching from supporting himself, the sound of their bodies squelching wetly together unfamiliar and loud in the otherwise quiet house. He worried for a moment about the cookies (no doubt burning to a crisp) but then seemed to register that he had Sirius Black under him, and turned all concentration to the task at hand. Lily would understand, wouldn’t she?
And then Sirius had brought a hand up to gently trace Remus’ cheekbones, and every imaginable worry fled from Remus’ mind, understandably. Perhaps it was the tender moment they shared as they gazed into each other’s eyes, or that particular spot Remus hit, or that excellent angle he’d discovered – but very quickly they were both tumbling over the edge for the second time that night, moaning and thrashing and kissing and licking. The sound of their names, tumbling heedlessly from their swollen mouths, was music in the soft silence.


Everything was very sticky. The floor, the table, the refrigerator, them. Remus lay beside Sirius, exhausted and spent and very, very satisfied. Their breathing was harsh and loud, coming out quickly as they tried to recover. The smell of burnt cookies and sex was poignant, and Remus worried his bottom lip thinking about what he could possibly tell Lily, James and Peter when they visited in hopes of a lovely evening of pastries and hot chocolate.

But then Sirius turned, and lay a hand on Remus’ chest, and the cookies he’d been suckered into making seemed of very little importance in the grand scheme of things, and he stopped worrying about them.


The End.

And a hearty Happy Holidays to you all!

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