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Never Have I Ever...

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“Alright, alright—” Sirius says, waving his glass of Firewhisky from side to side, where it sloshes down over his fingers. James, without missing a beat, leans over and tops his glass up from the rapidly emptying bottle they are sharing— “I wanna play a game. Whaddaya got, men?”

They’re in their flat, their first flat together, fresh out of Hogwarts, bought with James and Sirius’ inheritance, furniture from Pete’s aunt’s house and Remus’ insistence he can be the one who cooks and cleans if he can’t well bloody contribute with rent as much as he’d like. In truth, Sirius and James plan on coming home with takeaways and leaving a handful of Sickles between the sofa cushions or in a coat pocket for Remus to find, and hope that their friend has the good grace never to bring it up. James has said several times that he’s sure they will all fall into some kind of lovely balance eventually; it’s not quite happened yet, but Peter believes him because that’s what Peter does, and Sirius and Remus are quietly hopeful.

Sirius and Remus have been quietly hopeful since the end of Sixth Year when Remus, as tipsy as he’s ever been on something Peter had brewed behind Greenhouse Three, had grasped Sirius by the face and kissed him. It was awful, as kisses go, but they’ve had lots of practice since then.

Peter is the one who pipes up, already pink-cheeked from their drinking escapades thus far. “How about this Muggle game my sister plays? It’s called Never Have I Ever.”

James makes a noise of interest as Sirius gulps down Firewhisky in agreement. Remus grins—he’s pleasantly tipsy, and will probably stay that way all night; it’s the only perk to his lycanthropy—and nods. “I’ve heard of this, I think?”

“What do we do?”

“Right, well.” Peter pitches forwards, beyond pleased he’s the centre of attention and current source of information. “We take it in turns to say something, and if anyone in the group has done that thing, they have to drink.”

“Like what?” Sirius says, topping up their glasses.

“Like, well… Never have I ever flown on a broom naked,” Peter says, smiling wryly.

Sirius and James share one of their patented Prongs-Padfoot looks. “So—” Sirius starts, and James finishes— “We have to drink.”

“Yep,” Remus and Peter chorus, grinning as James and Sirius swallow back half of their glasses. Remus is there to top up the glasses when they set them down.

“Merlin,” James says, his eyes already foggy behind his glasses.

“You didn’t need to drink half your glasses, you know.” Remus’ smile blooms as Sirius stretches his feet into Remus’ lap and Remus slides a hand along the other boy’s calf. Sirius has always been particularly touchy, always with a hand on Remus’ leg or an arm around his shoulders, a head in his lap. Even before they got together, Sirius loved physical contact. Remus tries not to think on the reasons why lest they make him too sad or angry. Avoidance and ignorance are Remus Lupin’s main weapons.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sirius says around a grin. “We’re drinking to celebrate, aren’t we?”

“Mm, I suppose,” Remus admits, swirling his drink in his glass. He knows Sirius is drunk when he leans in on one hand and presses his mouth to Remus’. He tastes of cigarette smoke and Firewhisky—unsurprisingly—and Remus can’t help but meet him halfway because Sirius is magnetic like this, fiery and sharp. Sirius grins into their kiss and nips at Remus’ bottom lip, coaxing him into the kiss in that way Sirius always does; he kisses like there is nothing else in the world.

“Oi,” James groused, shooting a Stinging Hex at them both. Remus jerks in surprise and Sirius yelps, rubbing a hand over his upper arm. They shouldn’t be surprised though, seeing as Stinging Hexes were the main line of defence in the Gryffindor common room against unwanted sights. James frowns at them from behind his glasses. “Stop eating face for a second, will you?”

Sirius snickers when he pulls back, tip of his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. Remus, at least, has the good grace to look a little embarrassed, but he’s smiling too. “Jealous, Prongs?”

James snorts into his own drink. “My turn. Never have I ever been caught making out by a Professor.” 

Sirius scoffs and Remus rolls his eyes and both of them drink. James looks inordinately pleased with himself and Sirius decides that is not acceptable.

“Oh, fuck you Prongsy, it’s on,” Sirius hisses.

Peter has fallen asleep. James and Remus help him into bed when he starts dozing, back propped against their ugly floral pattern sofa. Remus fills a glass with water and leaves it on his bedside and James puts a blanket over him whilst Sirius fusses with the record player back in the living room, insisting they need some background music to continue with this bloody fantastic game. The opening rifts of Changes filters through the flat and James rolls his eyes, Sirius’ Hunky Dory has been worn into grooves for how often he plays it.

They settle back in the living room with Peter’s door shut and a silencing charm over the doorway, both for Peter’s snoring and the inevitable shouting that will come from their Never Have I Ever gameplay. It’s gotten competitive between Sirius and James, each vying to get the other as drunk as possible with very specific Never Have I Ever’s. Sirius and James sit cross-legged opposite one another. Sirius’ hair is tied up in his wand from when it got a little too haywire, and James’ glasses have slipped down his nose. Both of them are exceedingly drunk for how well-placed and pointed their phrases to each other have been. Remus watches with his glass of Firewhisky, laughing.

“Never have I ever had a wet dream about an Auror.” Sirius smirks. 

“You said you’d keep that secret, you little Flobberworm!” James drinks. “Never have I ever gotten a blowjob in the trophy room.”

Both Sirius and Remus drink in unison, Remus grinning behind his glass. James raises an eyebrow and Remus shrugs. “We’re equal opportunities, Prongs.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow as he tops up their glasses, a slug of Firewhisky sloshing over the side for his drunken accuracy. Remus knows that look, he knows it means er, no we aren’t, and I like it that way. It’s Sirius who’s usually on his knees because Sirius likes it that way, and who is Remus to deny Sirius one of his greatest skills? He’s fucking brilliant at sucking cock. 

“Never have I ever had a wet dream and woken everyone in the dorm up by tripping over Pete’s chess set on my way to the bathroom with a stiffy.” 

Sirius is staring right at James, who snarls and gulps his drink when he looks as if he’d rather throw his drink in Sirius’ face.

“Never have I ever gone to Charms with come in my hair and tried to convince Flitwick it was a fancy new hair gel.”

Sirius drinks. Remus sniggers at the memory. Dark broom closets between classes weren’t ever their first choice of romantic rendezvous, but they were wonderful. 

“Never have I ever tasted vagina.” 

James drinks, rolling his eyes. Remus knocks back a tidy gulp of his own drink and remembers a few meetings with Lucia Martinez, a cute Ravenclaw in Fifth Year, in the Arithmancy section of the library.

Sirius stares at him, scandalised. “Moony! Not you too?” Remus shrugs and laughs, topping up their drinks and wondering if there’s another bottle of Ogden’s stashed somewhere tactical. “Ugh, no wonder you’re so good with your tongue if you’ve had to deal wit—”

“Oh! Come on!” James cries, throwing his hands up and sloshing Firewhisky down over his arm. 

“You love it Prongs,” Sirius says, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning. Remus sticks his tongue out at James and bursts into peals of laughter when James cringes. 

“Never have I ever,” James fires back, clenching his eyes shut to avoid the twin sights of Sirius grinning like that and Remus waggling his tongue, “woken someone up with a blowjob.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and drinks. “Low blow, you saw that.”

“More than once! That’s what I get trying to be a good friend and wake you up for Remedial Transfiguration but oh no! I get to see you gagging on Moony’s damn cock!”

“Didn’t know you paid that much attention, Prongs,” Remus replies smoothly, remembering that time; Sirius hadn’t been embarrassed in the slightest and swallowed Remus’ cock with renewed vigour once James had let the curtains drop again with a cry of Oh bloody hell, I’m going down to breakfast without you, you fucking poofs! (said in the nicest possible way of course.)

“Oh, I don’t,” James replies but he’s pink in the cheeks, probably from the Firewhisky, which they’ve drank in colossal quantities now. 

“Alright. Never have I ever damaged school property whilst having sex,” Remus says, smiling.

Both James and Sirius drink. Remus had known Sirius would—it was entirely Remus’ fault after all, railing Sirius so hard in an empty Runes classroom that they had broken a table and then the desk—but he’s mildly surprised by James drinking. He raises an eyebrow at James as if to say do tell and it says something to their level of intoxication that James doesn’t put up too much of a fight.

“Sixth Year, Quidditch changing rooms… Daniel Wood went down on me and I pulled a whole clothes rack off the wall trying to stay upright.” James flushes crimson and takes a drink for fortification rather than forfeit. 

“Hold on!” Sirius screeches, waving his glass around. “You got a blowjob from a bloke and didn’t see fit to tell us, the resident Gryffindor fuckin’ shirt-lifters?” He looks so indignant that Remus snorts a laugh into his glass. “I knew you were bisexual, mate, but I didn’t know you’d done anything about it!”

James looks very serene for a moment (It’s an utter lie, he’s completely wankered) and gestures with his rapidly-emptying glass. “Contrary to popular belief, Pads, I don’t tell you everything.”

“Pfft, I call bullshit. You told me about that time Acacia O’Connor let you do her up the arse!” Sirius shoots back, grinning luridly. 

“Well, if you didn’t tell me every filthy thing you and Moony get up to then I wouldn’t feel the need to, someone’s got to out-gross the both of you.”

Remus smiles. “Didn’t know you were detailing our escapades, Padfoot.”

Sirius waves a hand and his reply is as smooth as 24-year old oak-cask Dragon Barrel. “You turn my brains to mush, Moony, that kind of talent shouldn’t stay a secret. You’re a sex god. Besides, Prongs needs the tips.”

James raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t Pads. Daniel Wood didn’t mind my technique apparently.”

“Prongs, revealing your hidden depths tonight, mate,” Remus says, pouring the last of the Firewhisky into their glasses. 

Sirius doesn’t even notice the topping up of his glass, too busy staring at James in disbelief. “All this shagging blokes and you didn’t tell me! I’m bloody offended, Prongs! You think I’d try to shove my cock at you or something?”

James shakes his head, taking a drink, but for a moment Remus sees his fingers tighten on his glass, hears him swallow with the wolf’s hearing, and if it weren’t so far from the full moon Remus thinks he might be able to smell the scent of desire rising from James’ skin. Oh, yes. That’s why James doesn’t want tell Sirius—because it’s Sirius he fancies. Remus doesn’t blame him, Sirius is bloody stunning, beautiful in fact, with the way his inky hair falls around his face, his sharp, chiselled features, the silver glitter he so often presses to his cheeks in a homage to glam rock. Sirius’ body is captivating too—Remus knows it so well—all long limbs, tall, taller than Remus, the same height as James, rangy with the remnants of their teenage years and moons of running as Padfoot. Remus always gets sidetracked thinking of Sirius, but now, watching James blush, he thinks James might too.

James shifts uncomfortably. “Never have I ever—” he starts, over Sirius’ ranting— “gotten caught with my pants down by Mrs. Norris.”

Sirius drinks without breaking the rhythm of his rant— “is it just Daniel Wood? Godric, Prongs, I can’t believe you. Was it the whole damn Quidditch team? I know Wood is hot—yeah yeah, make the stiffy joke, Moony—but come on—”

Remus rolls his eyes at James, who is as crimson as his old Quidditch uniform and practically squirming, as if to say, well, Sirius is on a rant, apologies, and James shrugs one shoulder lightly. Remus downs the last of his Firewhisky and—yep, he’s going to do this—winks at James.

Sirius is still ranting as James stares, open-mouthed at Remus, thinking does that wink mean what I think it might mean?— “It feels like a right of passage to tell your queer mate you’ve just had your first fumble with another bloke and you denied us of tha—”

“Never have I ever,” Remus says, in a quiet tone that carries over Sirius’ speech and cuts through to his brain, the bit that listens to Remus, the bit of Sirius that enjoys when Remus holds him down and takes him apart piece by piece, “begged to lick a cock.”

Sirius stops dead and his grey eyes flicker to Remus, who is smiling wryly. Sirius’ mouth opens and closes for a beat and he shifts in a way that Remus knows means he’s fighting a heady wave of arousal. James’ breath whooshes out of him in one fell swoop and Remus hears him set his glass down on the bookshelf next to him but Remus is staring at Sirius, whose pale cheeks are flushed pink.

Sirius raises his glass, never taking his eyes off of Remus’ amber ones, and drains the rest of his drink in one long mouthful that makes his Adam’s apple bob in delightful facsimile. 

“Merlin,” James coughs and it sounds rough-hewn already. Remus’ eyes flicker to James to see him staring avidly at Sirius, who is wearing his flush like a badge of honour. His suspicions were true then. 

In for a penny, in for a pound, Remus thinks. “Want to show Prongs how pretty you are when you beg, Pads?”

Sirius moans. Just outright moans, his grey eyes wide, his hair in drunken disarray falling in chunks out of its fastening, his hands clenching tight against his thighs beneath his jeans. The seconds drag out to hours. James wonders if he’s passed out for a moment and this is some kind of Firewhisky dream, but Remus and Sirius look real and he’s never this turned on in his dreams. Remus watches Sirius, his amber eyes unyielding in their intensity. Sirius’ eyelids flutter and his mouth quirks for a moment before he leans forward towards Remus just a fraction. “Yeah, yeah… please.”

Slowly, slowly, Remus straightens one leg, then the other, leaning back on one hand. Sirius tracks his movement, voracious and hungry, and his eyes land on the bulge beneath Remus’ trousers that’s been stirring interestedly all night and now Remus would like nothing better than Sirius begging. 

James makes another sort of punched out sound and shifts to try and surreptitiously palm over his own burgeoning erection but Remus spots him with sharp eyes and grins before looking back to Sirius and nodding slightly.

Sirius crawls forward, slow and sinuous, graceful despite his current intoxication, and he looks so good on his hands and knees like that. Remus can’t look away for a moment, Sirius’ bare arms—he’s cut the sleeves from his t-shirt to look far more punk; since they’ve left school he’s discovered punk rock and blended his love of Bolan and Bowie into his newfound appreciation of Sid Vicious—flexing and shifting with the ripple of muscle. The way tendrils of his hair slink over his shoulders like a lover’s caress, his grey eyes so sharp and full of lust, pupils blown dark not just from the Firewhisky but the current situation, the way his lips are already parted just so like an invitation for Remus to slide his cock into Sirius’ mouth. Sirius dips to press a kiss to the inside of Remus’ knee beneath his trousers, then, crawling over him, another, and another, breathy up the inseam of his trousers.

“Please,” Sirius says, his breath in a hot plume over the swell of Remus’ cock. He’s staring up at Remus with those steel-grey eyes, his tongue darting over his bottom lip. He almost leans down, not waiting for an answer from Remus, before Remus tangles a hand in a swath of his midnight hair and holds his face an inch away from his crotch. 

“What do you think, Prongs?” Remus looks up to see James watching them, wide-eyed. He lifts his hand from his crotch to push his glasses further onto his nose then replaces it, pressing his palm over his cock and Remus grins and asks, “Can he?”

James swallows, once, twice, before he smiles softly. “Nah, not yet.”

Sirius growls softly and pulls against Remus’ hand in his hair, his breath so warm. “Please, Moony.”

“Not my decision, Pads,” Remus murmurs, eyes flickering down over the bow of Sirius’ spine, his long limbs sprawled out and he’s still staring up at Remus. “You’ll have to ask Prongs if you can get what you want.”

James chuckles darkly and it sends a thrill shooting straight to Sirius’ cock and he shifts from side to side to try and get some kind of relief but really he wants Remus’ cock in his mouth as soon as bloody possible. James shifts over to Sirius and puts a hand on his lower back—Sirius’ skin is so warm—where his too-tight shirt has ridden up. The air is thick between them all, fuelled by drunkenness and this strange lack of boundaries they’ve all had for years and it’s only just now crossing over into this hedonism. Sirius jumps at the contact but arches into it like Padfoot looking for scratches.

“Maybe Moony can let you take his prick out though,” James says, staring at Remus whilst he does and feeling Sirius shiver beneath his touch.

“Mmhmm, I think so.” Remus lifts his hips to allow Sirius to fumble open his trousers and push them down off his hips along with his underwear. His cock springs free and hits Sirius in the jaw and Sirius turns his head towards it but Remus’ hand stays fast in his hair and Sirius whimpers. Remus’ cock is long and thick and exactly what Sirius immediately wants in various parts of his body as much as practically possible but right now Remus won’t let him. “Ah ah, no touching, not yet, Pads. Not ’til Prongs says so.”

Sirius groans as James slides a hand up his spine to the nape of his neck to tangle with Remus’ fingers already laced there. He just wants something. “Prongs… please.”

James shuffles closer to Remus, marvelling at how comfortable Remus looks like this, his hand in Sirius’ hair holding the other man back from sucking his cock like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do, like hearing Sirius—fiery whirlwind, Gryffindor who takes and gets what he wants—begging for it is a normal Friday night. “Can I?” James breathes to Remus, leaning down towards his mouth. He’s thought about this for a long time. James has lain awake listening to the two of them when their silencing charms were a little too hurried and not quite up to scratch. It’s just been lingering at the back of his mind, this idea of crawling into bed with Sirius and Remus just to be within their gravitational pull. They’re so dynamic, the two of them, fitted together so well, all their ragged edges after the years, that James just wants a taste. Sure, when Lily Evans and he stop dancing around each other and realise they’re pretty damn good together he’ll settle down but now, he wants to enact his teenage fantasies and fuck his best friends.

Remus leans up to kiss James on the mouth, both of them still holding Sirius fast with their hands in his hair. James kisses differently to Sirius, Remus thinks, but he kisses just as Remus expects he would, with vigour, fully, as if it is the last thing he will do. Sirius moans from beneath them and his hot breath washes over Remus’ cock.

“Can I touch you?” James breathes—Sirius hisses a slew of curse words and shifts to try and find some purchase—and Remus whispers yes so James reaches down to curl his fingers around Remus’ cock and stroke him in long, teasing passes. Remus moans softly and curls his tongue into James’ waiting mouth, eager to learn the way James kisses. He knows Sirius is watching and can’t help but smile into the kiss.

“Prongs, Prongs, please—” Sirius murmurs, shifting his weight onto one hand to reach across and pass his fingers over the head of James’ cock beneath his jeans. “Please.”

James moans sharply, his hips snapping forward in unexpected pleasure. Everything seems amplified a thousand times right now, as if one of them has cast one of those pleasure spells from the back of Wanton Witches, but it’s so much better. Sirius’ fingers are skillful in the slow swirls he rubs over the sensitive head of James’ cock and James thinks he might’ve done this a few times before.

Remus nips James’ bottom lip and mutters, “Please what?” into his mouth. 

Sirius’ reply is instant in a way that makes James realise he really is no stranger to begging and it turns his insides to molten honey. “Please can I suck Moony’s cock, Prongs, please. Please let me. I’m so fucking desperate for it in my mouth, please, I need it, please—”

“Fucking Merlin,” James breathes, looking to Remus. Remus just raises an eyebrow as if the choice is entirely his and that idea is so incredibly hot for James; that he has the power to say whether or not Sirius gets to suck his boyfriend’s cock. Sirius is still murmuring frantically—Please, Prongs, please let me, I want it so bad, it feels so good in my throat. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, Prongs, just let me suck Moony’s cock, let him fuck my mouth, please, please. James stills his hand at the base of Remus’ cock, feeling it throb in his palm. “Yeah, yeah you can, Pads.”

Remus keeps his hand in Sirius’ hair but brings him forward enough that Sirius can duck down and lap eagerly at the head of Remus’ cock, swirling his tongue. Sirius moans sharply, his eyelids fluttering shut as he savours the taste of Remus’ precome, laving his tongue in broad sweeps over hot, hard flesh. Sirius lavishes Remus’ cock like James has never seen anyone enjoy anything. All of his previous dalliances have been very much goal-oriented: blowjobs are for coming. But Sirius sucks cock like it’s a fine skill and something to be enjoyed and fuck, does he want Sirius to employ that considerable skill on his own throbbing prick. 

“Oh, fuck, yes, Padfoot—” Remus is watching Sirius with flashing intensity in his amber eyes, his stomach muscles tight and trembling to stop from fucking up into Sirius’ mouth just yet.

“Moony’s right,” James murmurs, awestruck, his free hand reaching down to sweep Sirius’ hair away from his forehead, out of his eyes. Sirius blinks up at James, moaning at the back of his throat as he draws Remus’ cock deeper into his mouth. “You look so pretty when you beg, Pads.”

Sirius hums happily and shifts his hips from side to side. He thinks for a moment of trying to get a hand down his own pants to his sorely neglected cock but one hand is holding his weight and the other is palming over James’ cock and both of those seem of utmost importance right now. 

“Push his head down,” Remus whispers against James’ neck, where he’s leaving little red blooms blossoming over tender skin, the scrape of his fine teeth, the sweep of his hot tongue.

Sirius moans and hopes that comes across as fuck, yes, please, blinking up at James with eyes like molten steel. James does, then, gently pressing Sirius down, down, down onto Remus’ cock and Sirius breathes out through his nose and lets his throat go lax. Remus drops his head back and growls, his hips snapping up to fuck into Sirius’ mouth because he can’t not and Sirius gags for a moment but Remus moans again and James’ fingers are petting through Sirius’ hair.

“Merlin,” James breathes again as Remus bites and sucks at the tender skin of his neck.

“He’s good at it, isn’t he?” Remus says, his fingers covered Sirius’ still ones over the fastening of James’ jeans, pressing and circling punishingly slowly.

“Yeah,” James says, letting Sirius move back up for a moment to breathe before pushing his head down again. His cock twitches against their fingers when Sirius makes another low moan and Remus’ hips buck up. “Fuck, I want my prick in his mouth.”

Sirius moans around Remus’ cock and he knows Remus knows that means he just wants some part of him to get fucked, preferably two parts at once with both of their cocks and he wants it now. Remus smiles against James’ neck. Sirius thinks he might not get his wish as soon as he’d like.

“You’d like that, Pads?” Remus says, his hand in Sirius’ hair pulling him back up now. A string of saliva stretches between his mouth and the tip of Remus’ cock and James shivers at the sight. Sirius’ mouth is pink and glistening, his lips swollen. Remus thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Suck Prongs’ cock whilst I watch?”

“Yeah,” Sirius croaks, his throat rough and sore already. “Can you fuck me, Moony, please? I want you both, please.”

Remus looks to James again, one eyebrow arched. James thinks it’s remarkable how put-together he seems when he’s had his cock shoved down Sirius’ throat for the past five minutes. “What do you think, Prongs, can I?”

James shuts his eyes for a moment and sees the three of them in relief against his eyelids, Sirius pinned, moaning and shivering between the two of them, James fucking his mouth and Remus fucking his arse. “Yeah,” he breathes, shaky. “Yeah.”

Remus smiles and urges Sirius to sit up. “Strip then, Pads.”

Sirius scrambles to do as he’s told and peels off his too-tight t-shirt and tosses it aside. The same rosy flush adorning his cheeks has spread down his throat to his chest. He kneels up to unbutton his jeans and wiggle them down around his slim hips.

“Prongs,” Remus murmurs, pulling the other man closer and kissing him for a moment. “Just because he’s begged for mine doesn’t mean he’s begged for yours, you know. If you want.”

James laughs into Remus’ mouth and lets himself cup Remus’ sharp jaw and say, “You’re cruel, Remus John Lupin.”

Remus grins, his amber eyes glittering, and shrugs one shoulder, glancing over to Sirius for a moment, who is pushing his socks off. “He likes it, Prongs. Just doing what any good boyfriend would. And besides—” Remus kisses James again, coiling his tongue indulgently into James’ mouth— “he’s come just from sucking cock before and we don’t want that tonight, do we?”

“No, we don’t.”

Sirius huffs and sits back on his heels. “Can you two stop necking and get over here and fuck me please?”

James snorts with laughter and Remus rolls his eyes but they pull apart, eager for the next step. Remus strips his shirt off, too warm in the July heat with the way his body temperature always runs high. Sirius helps him, already naked and eager to get the other two along the same track, his hands pushing hungrily at Remus’ trousers. James watches in awe of the way they move together. They are magnetic, like a black hole pulling him closer and closer and James helps to pull Remus’ jeans off, his fingers clashing with Sirius’. Sirius divests James of his t-shirt, leaving clusters of kisses over his exposed skin whilst Remus undoes James’ jeans with new moon-deft fingers. When the trio are naked, Sirius ends up between them, of course, on hands and knees, staring up at James kneeling at his head as if to say get the fuck on with it and pushing his hips back towards Remus kneeling at his feet. 

Remus reaches forward and tugs Sirius’ wand from his hair, letting the black waves fall down around pale, broad shoulders and curl down towards the awful shag carpet.

“Oi, Moony,” Sirius protests, tossing his head to dislodge the strands in his eyes. 

“Yours was the closest wand, Pads,” Remus says off-handedly, tapping his opposite palm as he mutters a lubrication charm. “And I’m not doing wandless spells half-cut.” Remus drops Sirius’ wand to the side and presses the pad of his finger against Sirius’ hole just as Sirius leans down to swipe his tongue over James’ cock. James catches him with a hand in his hair and tuts softly. “Ah, ah, Pads, you have to ask nicely.”

Sirius whines and arches his back, trying simultaneously to get closer to James’ cock and press back into the slow intrusion of Remus’ slicked finger to his arse. “Fuck,” Sirius breathes, his eyelashes fluttering. “Prongs, c’mon.” Remus crooks his finger in search of Sirius’ prostate and Sirius’ punched-out moan pulses hot air over James’ cock. “Oh, Godric.”

James fists his other hand around the base of his cock and pumps languidly, never quite close enough for the flicker of Sirius’ tongue to curl over the tip, as much as Sirius strains against the hand in his hair. He doesn’t want to tip too far forward, though, else he’ll lose the spangling pleasure of Remus’ finger sheathed tight inside him. “That’s not nicely, Padfoot.” James’ eyes flicker along Sirius’ spine to the swell of his arse where Remus is pressing kisses to the dimples of his back and easing a finger in and out of him in slow rhythm. 

Sirius huffs and rolls his shoulders, his hair silk-sliding over his smooth skin. He looks up at James with perfect, wide-eyed innocence, the tip of his tongue resting on his plush bottom lip. The angelic look is only broken by a sharp moan as Remus twists his wrist on a delicious out-stroke. 

“Please let me suck your cock, Prongs,” Sirius murmurs, pausing for another shattered little moan as he’s shunted forward by the fuck of Remus’ finger. “I’ll make it so good for you. I’m so good at it. Let you get all the way down my throat, right to the hilt—” Sirius swallows around a moan. He thinks he’d rather like Remus to get on with things and get more than one finger up him but Remus is taking his bloody time and he doesn’t know which part to protest first—the lack of Remus’ cock in his arse or the lack of James’ cock in his mouth. 

James groans, unable to tear his gaze from the sinful sight of Sirius’ wet mouth hovering over the tip of his cock, knowing it’s only his hand in Sirius’ hair stopping him from doing so, knowing he has the power. It’s intoxicating. And Sirius is so good at begging like that, knowing just what to say to make James want to give in when he knows they are all enjoying this dance together. He knows that Remus is just across from him too, working little huffing moans from Sirius with his skilled fingers, knows that they have done this so much they know each other’s bodies as well as James knows the true layout of the fourth floor of Hogwarts. To be welcomed into the fray of their love is terrifying and exhilarating and James has to squeeze the base of his cock to stave off an orgasm at the sight of his two best mates before him.

Remus chuckles and twists his wrist again, pressing in expert quick succession against Sirius’ prostate and watching the other man twitch and clench.

“Fucking Merlin, Remus—” That wins out Sirius’ decision of what to ask for as he gives a whole body shiver and drops his chin onto his chest— “Just fuck me already, G-Godric.”

“What do you think, Prongs?” Remus asks, lifting his other hand to push sweat-damp curls away from his grinning face. Sirius’ body clenches around his finger in silent answer but Remus stares at James with amber eyes. “Two fingers?”

James grins luridly and enjoys the moan of frustration that Sirius emits. “Yeah, two then. I suppose.”

Remus’ smile widens. “You’re too kind, Prongs.” He withdraws his finger, pets idly at Sirius’ rim for a few thundering heartbeats, before delving two fingers back into him. Sirius moans and bucks his hips, his body easily accepting the stretch, the pink muscle clenching hungrily around Remus’ fingers.

“Fuck—yes!” Sirius hisses, shifting to spread his knees wider. James’ thumb feathers over Sirius’ temple. Some part of him is mildly worried Sirius doesn’t want this, but he remembers the way Sirius’ eyes had gone wide and dark at Remus’ instruction to beg, the way he had crawled so readily, the way the word please slid off his tongue so easily when Sirius Black wouldn’t ask for anything out in the real world.

James slides his hand in idle passes over his own cock, smiling at Sirius’ groan of annoyance punching through his own moan of satisfaction. He remembers pushing Sirius in Quidditch drills at school, remembers how much Sirius enjoyed the tension of authority, how much every bit of him rebelled against whatever anyone gave him. So maybe, James wouldn’t give in quite so soon, as much as he was desperate to slide his cock into Sirius’ slick mouth. He knows from the way Sirius lavished attention on Remus’ cock that he’s likely to come down Sirius’ lovely throat rather quickly, and so would like to delay that as much as possible.

James hauls Sirius up onto his knees, leaning down halfway to meet him in a frantic press of tongues and teeth. Sirius tastes like Firewhisky and want, his hands flying to James’ waist to steady himself as the sharp movement brings Remus’ two fingers slamming inside him with sharp pleasure. He moans breathlessly around James’ tongue. 

“Fuck, you two look amazing,” Remus says, twisting and scissoring his fingers to draw more and more delightful sounds from Sirius’ mouth. The two of them do look stunning twinned together, moaning against each other. Sirius’ cock presses against James’ hip and he would shamelessly rut forward if it wouldn’t dislodge Remus’ fingers. 

James tilts his hand in Sirius’ hair, angling their kiss just slightly so Remus can see the shared press of their exploratory tongues. Remus moans appreciatively and his own cock twitches between his legs, drooling precome onto the carpet. He wants to slam right against the final act of this wild evening, but he thinks he enjoys the build-up a little too much—Sirius’ body clenching sweetly around his fingers as James sucks on his bottom lip and leaves bright red paths down Sirius’ alabaster throat. 

Sirius tilts his head back and twists slightly to peer at Remus over his shoulder whilst his hands clutch at James’ shoulders, through his hair, wherever he can reach. “Please, Moony. Give me more, please. I’m ready, I’m ready just fuck me, please. Please. Give me your cock, Moons.”

Remus tips his head in agreement, his other hand sliding in long, loving presses over Sirius’ flank and across his lower back. He flexes his fingers on an indulgent out-stroke and Sirius moans into James’ hair. “Prongs?” Remus asks, pausing to hear James hum around sucking a lurid bite into Sirius’ throat—he can tell what James is doing by the way Sirius shivers around him. “Three fingers?”

Sirius moans and throws his head back. “No, Rem—shit—fuck me, please!”

Remus smiles sardonically, looking past Sirius’ pleading eyes to where James is laving his tongue over Sirius’ pink nipple. “Prongs.”

“Mmm,” James ponders, taking the pebbled flesh between his teeth. “What do you want, Pads?”

Sirius’ hips jerk as James’ teeth press over his nipple and it pushes Remus’ fingers against his prostate. He sobs and closes his eyes, his flesh overheated, just wanting release but neither James or Remus were giving him quite enough. Sirius wants them both in him and wants it now. “Ohhh, Merlin. Please, please, I want Moony’s cock in me! Fucking hell, I just—ah!—” James mouths across Sirius’ sternum to draw the other nipple into his mouth and Sirius yelps— “C’mon, Remus, please. Please, please, please. If you don’t spear me on your fucking cock right this moment I’m going to scream and I—”

James grins as Sirius rambles on, near incoherent with need, and kisses back up to Sirius’ shoulder to peer at Remus, who is slicking his cock with his free hand, twisting his other wrist mercilessly inside Sirius. “Hm. I suppose then, Moony. If you like.”

Remus’ grin is sharp and feral as he removes his fingers—Sirius bucks and keens against James, his knees weak with torment and James holds him up—before pressing the blunt head of his cock against Sirius’ entrance. Sirius’ body yields to him instantly, allowing him in with one long, swift pass of his hips. Sirius cries out and sinks into James, panting hard against the delicious stretch of his body and the shake of his thighs. 

“Ah, you feel so good, Padfoot. You’re so tight—fuck,” Remus says. James captures Sirius’ lips in a kiss, slow and exploratory, heated and perfectly in time with the long, torturously slow slide and grip of Remus’ thrusts. After a long moment Sirius tips his head back onto Remus’ shoulder, his eyes shuttering.

James wraps his arms tight around Sirius’ waist, the other man shifting against him with Remus’ thrusts, kneeling up. Remus pants into Sirius’ shoulder in a slow, luxurious roll of his hips and stretches forward to kiss James. Sirius is trapped between them, Remus hot against his back, James hot against his front, shuddering with every thrust. Remus and James kiss with idle insouciance, heedless of Sirius between them, whose hand reaches back to tangle in Remus’ hair, the other to clutch James’ shoulder. Remus pulls away and kisses down the side of Sirius’ neck. Occasionally his and James’ mouths meet over warm skin and share the press of their tongues before turning back to Sirius.

“Pads,” Remus murmurs, teeth raking across the golden ring in Sirius’ ear. James twists and presses kisses along the already bruised swell of Sirius’ throat. “Aren’t you meant to be sucking Prongs’ cock?”

Sirius and James moan in tandem and James peels away, sitting back on his heels, panting. His eyes are wide and Sirius is molten like steel, dripping honey over fine marble. Remus slows his rolling thrusts so that Sirius can sink down onto his hands, pressing into the awful shag carpet, and arch the pale bow of his back down towards James’ lap. Remus responds to the new angle with a sharp snap of his hips and Sirius moans sharply, his breath in plumes over James’ cock. 

James tangles his fingers back into Sirius’ hair, swirling tendrils of ink through his palms. He wants Sirius to ask again, wants Sirius to beg. Sirius’ begging, he thinks, is like convincing, painting a vivid mental picture for James’ imagination to run away with, every detail catalogued. “Ask nicely, Padfoot,” James rasps.

“Yeah, Prongs?” Sirius looks back up at James through thick eyelashes, fluttering with every thrust of Remus’ cock. James gives him just enough leeway to curl his tongue over the head of James’ cock, the point of it flickering over the slit. Circe, James thinks, he is good at this. “Let me, Prongs, let me suck your gorgeous cock—” another languid swirl of his tongue, punctured with a low moan as Remus’ hips snap forward and his cock slams against Sirius’ prostate with a flare of sparkling light behind his eyelids. Sirius shudders once, twice, before continuing— “you can fuck my throat, Prongs. Make me gag on your thick cock, all you like. I’m sooo good at it—” another slow, slow lick, Sirius tonguing at James’ frenulum, leaving the tip shining with spit— “Don’t you want that?”

James tosses his head back. He’d hoped to hold out a little longer, make Sirius really beg but he paints such a wonderful picture and the sound of his little irregular breaths when Remus fucks into him are too much for James to handle. He kneels up and tilts Sirius’ face up a little, moaning in sheer ecstasy when Sirius parts his lips and lets James slide into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. Remus groans in appreciation, hips jerking forward to inadvertently force James’ cock past Sirius’ soft palate and down into the confines of his throat. Sirius, Merlin fuck, doesn’t gag. He just lets his eyes flutter shut and swallows a moan around the head of James’ cock.

“Oh sweet Circe’s fucking pigs Moony,” James ushers out, unable to stop himself leaning into the rhythm of Remus’ thrusts, pushing back in delicious time. “You’re right, he’s fucking phenomenal.”

“You are, aren’t you, Pads?” Remus says, his voice sweet and hoarse, sweat gathering in the hollows of his collarbones. 

Sirius moans long and low and James bites his back teeth together to stave off his rapidly approaching orgasm. He wants to savour this. James thinks Remus looks phenomenal too, all silver criss-crossed, muscles clenching, burying his cock into Sirius’ arse like it’s what he was made to do. 

Sirius thinks the only downside to having James hilt-deep in his mouth is that he can’t see Remus’ wry smile or the twist of his stomach muscles whenever Sirius tightens around him.

Remus folds himself over Sirius’ back and sighs in satisfaction at the swathes of skin-on-skin. He might love making Sirius ask for things with his pretty, awful, filthy fucking mouth, and he might enjoy seeing their best friend fucking Sirius’ pretty, awful filthy fucking mouth with vigour, but he also loves having Sirius like this. The swell of acceptance that crashes over him, the way Sirius trusts and adores him, lays himself bare and open for Remus to lose himself in when he can’t handle the horrors of being who he is.

“I love you,” Remus whispers into Sirius’ ear, mouth pressed against his warm skin, nose buried in his hair.

Sirius moans and shivers around James’ cock, swallowing, swallowing, breathing in and out through his nose in as slow sweeps as he can manage. The sensation of Remus pressed against him, over him, all around him, twinned with James’ cock thrusting hard into his mouth is too much. James loosens his grip a little and Sirius pulls off him with a lurid slurp, panting heavily. He pauses long enough to murmur, “I love you too,”—his voice fucked out and shorn, raw and sharp—before swallowing James down again.

Remus peers up at James as Sirius hums with pleasure. His teeth are sharp on Sirius’ shoulder and the pleasure of Remus’ amber eyes so close, Sirius’ skilled mouth and their open, unabashed declarations of love push James with rapid alacrity towards completion.

“Oh fucking h-hell, you two. I’m gonna come—fuck—” James’ hips snap forward with such ferocity that Sirius does finally gag, impaled back on Remus’ cock with James pulsing hot and heavy down his throat. He swallows, swallows, swallows, hands clenching, arms shaking. James’ sight flashes white and blurred, only shapes important, russet curls, swathes of midnight black and endless, beautiful skin. James breathes one long, heady sigh, sinking along the slow descent back to reality, and lets his cock slip out of Sirius’ mouth once the sensations morph from divinity into sharp aftershocks.

Shit,” Sirius croaks, his voice gone entirely, resting his head on the cord of James’ thigh. James pets idle, pleasure-thrumming hands through Sirius’ hair as Remus picks up his pace again. Sirius moans with every smack of their joined bodies, his hair leaving ink-stain swirls over James’ leg. James can feel him shivering. “Oh, Godric, Moons—Moons. I’m so close.” Sirius’ voice breaks and breaks and James knows he’s the one responsible for it and it sends a thrill through him. 

Remus leaves little petal-shaped presses of his teeth along the nape of Sirius’ neck, panting. “Yeah, yeah. You feel amazing, Pads, so amazing.”

Sirius whimpers into James’ skin, his eyes clenched shut. He’s teetering over the edge of a precipice and all he wants is to plummet into the depths below, almost painful in his longing. James strokes one hand through Sirius’ hair and turns just enough to reach down and curl his fingers around Sirius’ sorely-neglected cock. After only a handful of slow strokes, Sirius cries out, his back pressing up into a cat-like arch as he comes with the final snapping of his threads, in rich spools over James’ hand. He presses his face into James’ leg, heaving in great mouthfuls of oxygen, unraveling, unraveling, shaking and shivering around Remus’ cock. The sweet, burning slide of Remus’ cock keeps him suspended in the snarling furl of pleasure even as James slows his strokes to a stop.

Remus’ amber eyes are sweeping hungrily over James and Sirius, the latter with his head in the former’s lap. Sirius has gone boneless in his orgasm, pressing open-mouthed gasps against James’ skin. Remus is so close, Sirius hot pliant silk beneath him, his face in their best friend’s crotch.

“How good does he feel, Moony?” James pants, pushing his glasses back onto his nose with the back of his hand. He feels thoroughly unravelled, basking in the unadorned sight of Remus Lupin, amber eyes and wry smiles, coming apart before them.

Remus lets his chin drop to his chest, gripping tight onto Sirius’ hips and relishing every twitch of overstimulation his cock wrings from the other man. “So fucking good.”

Sirius presses back into Remus with shaking thighs and mutters, “Even b-better when you come in me, Moons. C-come on, come for me.”

“Come for us,” James reiterates with surprising tenderness and that’s what pushes Remus over the threshold of pleasure. His hips snap forward with strung-out tension as he comes deep in Sirius with blooming warmth and a surprising growl of release. Carried on the soft winds of pleasure, Remus floats light as air as Sirius collapses into a sprawl beneath him.

Remus crawls up Sirius’ body, pressing kisses up his spine and past his temple, leaning up as James slides down against the foot of the sofa and meets him for slow, soft kisses. Sirius stretches up when his arms can support his weight and presses into their embrace, lips hot and coaxing.

When he’s caught his breath, James fumbles for Sirius’ wand—having rolled somewhere beneath them—and casts a handful of cleaning charms over them all. Sirius shifts at the passing tingle of magic and throws a forearm over his eyes. 

“Never have I ever—” Sirius croaks, his voice husky and barely audible. James groans and Remus rolls his eyes— “been fucked into oblivion by my two favourite people.”

“We cannot play that again if it ends like this,” James hums, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ waist.

Remus chuckles into Sirius’ hair and tucks up against his other side. “Especially not at big parties.”

Sirius’ grin is lecherous despite his eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction. “I dunno. It’ll give everyone a fucking good show.”

Remus huffs a laugh and strokes idle fingers over James’ forearm thrown over Sirius’ abdomen. “Just because you’re an exhibitionist, Pads.”

Sirius sniggers and presses his mouth into Remus’ neck. “What does that make you then, Moons?”

Remus laughs. “Oh, that would be giving it away.”

James’ tongue feels loose with pleasure but he sniggers and catches Remus’ fingers with his own. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

Sirius twists and kisses James’ cheek. “Prongsy, you have no idea.