Wolfstar sex? Pathetic loser Remus crying as Sirius rides him lol
My Teeth In Your Heart
The dormitory was quiet in a way it almost never was.
Not peaceful, exactly. Gryffindor Tower didn’t really do peaceful. Somewhere beyond the walls, the castle shifted and sighed around its old bones; somewhere below, portraits muttered and staircases creaked and a pipe knocked once, twice, then settled again like it had changed its mind about complaining.
But their room, for once, belonged only to them.
James was gone, off doing whatever James counted as romance this week, which apparently involved following Lily Evans and Regulus Black around like a lovesick, bespectacled shadow while the two of them studied together and pointedly ignored him with the ruthless precision of people who had exams to pass and no patience for Potter theatrics. Peter was out too, somewhere with Marlene while she practised Quidditch, likely being useful by holding things, fetching things, and ducking very quickly whenever she told him to.
Which left the dormitory empty.
Which left Sirius and Remus alone.
Which had started, somehow, with Sirius shutting the door.
And Remus looking up from the bed.
And Sirius smiling.
Not one of his bright, wicked, show-off smiles. Not the kind that belonged in corridors or common rooms, not the kind that made first years stumble over their own feet and made professors develop headaches by instinct.
This one had been slower. Private. Dangerous in the way silk was dangerous when it slid too gently over skin.
Remus had swallowed.
Sirius had locked the door.
Now Remus was flat on his back in the middle of his own bed, naked and flushed and wrecked, his long legs spread and bent uselessly against the sheets, his chest heaving like he’d run miles through forest and rain and dark.
Sirius sat astride him like he’d been born there.
His knees were planted either side of Remus’s hips, thighs tense, back arched, hair spilling around his face in black waves damp with sweat. His lips were swollen. His cheeks were flushed pink, his eyes bright and glassy, and his grin—Merlin, his grin—was all teeth and heat and unbearable delight.
He lifted himself slowly, deliberately, inch by inch, and Remus made a broken sound in the back of his throat.
“Sirius,” he whined.
It came out ruined. Thin and pleading. Barely a name. Barely human.
Sirius’s grin widened.
“Oh, Moony,” he cooed, voice low and breathless, “listen to you.”
Remus shook his head against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping Sirius’s hips so tightly his knuckles stood out pale.
“Sirius—please—”
“Please what?”
Remus’s chest hitched.
Sirius sank down again.
Slow.
So slow.
Remus sobbed.
His mouth fell open, his whole body shuddering as Sirius took him all the way back inside, his ass lowering over Remus’s cock until Remus was buried in him completely, thick and deep, his hips pressed up helplessly beneath Sirius’s weight.
“Oh fuck,” Remus gasped, voice cracking on it. “Oh—fuck, fuck, Sirius, please—”
Sirius rocked his hips once, sweet and vicious.
Remus’s hands slid from his hips to his arse, gripping hard, squeezing like he couldn’t help himself. Like he needed something solid under his palms or he was going to come apart completely.
“That’s it,” Sirius murmured, panting through his smile. “That’s it, gorgeous. Look at you.”
“I can’t—”
“You can.”
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”
“You can,” Sirius said again, softer and crueller, rolling his hips in a slow circle that dragged a raw, helpless noise out of Remus’s chest. “Because I’m letting you. Because you’re being so good for me, aren’t you?”
Remus made a sound that might’ve been agreement if it hadn’t broken halfway into a whimper.
Sirius laughed under his breath.
Not smug. Not exactly. More delighted. More hungry.
He braced one hand on Remus’s chest, palm sliding over sweat-damp skin, and lifted himself again. Remus’s cock dragged out of him, thick and slick, and Remus’s face twisted like it hurt in the best, worst way possible.
“Sirius,” he begged, voice wet with tears now. “Sirius, don’t—don’t stop, please don’t stop, I’ll—anything, please, I’ll do anything—”
Sirius paused above him, only the head of Remus’s cock still caught inside him.
Remus’s eyes flew open.
They were bright. Wild. Wet.
Sirius looked down at him and smiled like he adored him so much it had turned into a crime.
“Anything?” he asked.
Remus nodded fast, pathetic and breathless. “Yes. Yes, anything, please, Pads, please, I need—fuck, I need you, please—”
Sirius dropped down hard.
Remus cried out.
His back arched sharply off the mattress, hands clamping down on Sirius’s arse, dragging him closer, deeper, like the movement had punched straight through his body and pulled his soul up after it.
Sirius groaned, head tipping back.
“There,” he panted. “There you are.”
“Again,” Remus sobbed. “Please.”
Sirius blinked down at him, lashes dark and damp.
Then his smile returned, slow as a knife being drawn.
“Greedy.”
Remus nodded, shameless. “Yes.”
“Needy.”
“Yes.”
“Pathetic.”
“Yes, yes, Sirius, please—”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Sirius cooed, rising up again with a shiver that rolled through his whole body. “My poor, desperate Moony.”
Remus was breathing too hard, lips parted, cheeks streaked with tears he didn’t seem to notice. His hair was a mess against the pillow, curls stuck to his forehead, and he looked too tall for the bed like this, too much limb and want and moon-struck ruin folded beneath Sirius’s body.
Sirius began to ride him properly.
Slow at first.
Deep, grinding strokes that made the old bed creak beneath them and made Remus’s fingers dig into the muscle of Sirius’s arse. He lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped, using Remus’s cock exactly how he wanted, fucking his own ass on it with a rhythm so controlled it made Remus shake.
Every time Sirius sank back down, Remus whimpered.
Every time he rose, Remus pleaded.
“Sirius—Sirius, please—oh, fuck, you feel—please—”
Sirius leaned forward, his hair falling around them both like a curtain, and laughed breathlessly against Remus’s mouth without kissing him.
“You’re so loud.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I know.”
“S’too much,” Remus whined. “It’s too much, please, I can’t—”
Sirius kissed the corner of his mouth, wet and teasing.
“You can’t what?”
Remus bucked faintly under him, unable to stop himself.
Sirius hissed, then grinned.
“You can’t take me riding your fat cock?” he whispered.
Remus’s eyes rolled back.
A helpless, ruined sound tore out of him.
“Oh,” Sirius breathed, delighted. “You liked that.”
Remus shook his head, though his body betrayed him instantly, hips lifting again, hands dragging Sirius down to meet him.
Sirius sat up properly, panting, and rolled his hips harder.
“You did,” he said, voice thick with amusement and pleasure. “Merlin, you did. Look at you, Moony, you’re crying over it.”
Remus opened his eyes again, barely.
“Sirius—”
“What?” Sirius cooed. “What is it? Tell me.”
Remus swallowed, throat bobbing, his whole body trembling beneath him.
“Feels good,” he whispered, then immediately seemed to break on the confession, his voice cracking open. “Feels so good, fuck, Sirius, I can’t think, I can’t—please, please keep going, please—”
Sirius’s expression softened for one dangerous second, something warm flickering beneath all the teasing.
Then he rolled his hips again, and Remus sobbed.
“Such a pretty thing when you beg,” Sirius murmured.
Remus made a desperate noise.
“I’m not—”
“You are.”
“I’m not pretty.”
Sirius’s hand slid up Remus’s chest, over his throat, not squeezing, just resting there, grounding and possessive.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, and his voice went rough enough that Remus stared up at him, stunned through the haze. “And you’re mine. And your cock feels so fucking good inside me I could keep you like this all night.”
Remus’s mouth fell open.
His fingers twitched on Sirius’s arse.
“All night?” he whispered, wrecked.
Sirius grinned again.
“There’s my greedy boy.”
Remus whimpered.
Sirius started moving faster.
The bed complained beneath them, wooden frame knocking softly against the wall, blankets twisted around Remus’s thighs. Sirius’s hand braced on Remus’s stomach now as he rode him, his body lifting and dropping in a rhythm that grew less controlled by the second. Sweat shone along the line of his throat. His mouth parted, and breath spilled from him in sharp, pretty pants.
Remus watched him like he was watching fire.
Like Sirius was something holy and filthy and impossible, all at once.
“Sirius,” he said again, because apparently he had forgotten every other word in the world. “Sirius, Sirius, Sirius—”
“Mhm?” Sirius’s voice shook slightly now. “What do you need, love?”
Remus choked on the endearment.
His eyes went wet all over again.
“Don’t say that.”
Sirius faltered for half a second.
Then he bent over him, still moving, still fucking himself down on Remus’s cock, his breath hot against Remus’s jaw.
“Love,” he whispered deliberately.
Remus let out a broken sob.
Sirius kissed his cheek.
“Love.”
“Sirius—”
Another kiss, lower, near his mouth.
“My sweet, pathetic, desperate love.”
Remus cried outright then, a helpless little broken thing, hands squeezing Sirius’s arse as Sirius rode him harder. Sirius’s own breath hitched; his teasing grin wavered, turned slack with pleasure, then sharpened again by force.
“Fuck,” Sirius gasped. “You’re so big, Moony.”
Remus shuddered violently.
“Sirius—”
“So fucking big,” Sirius panted, bouncing harder now, his thighs trembling with the effort. “Look at what you do to me. Look how much of you I can take.”
Remus tried to look.
He truly did.
But Sirius shifted his hips, and Remus made a high, wounded sound, eyes squeezing shut again.
“Don’t hide,” Sirius said breathlessly.
“I’m not—fuck, I’m not hiding, I just—”
“Look at me.”
Remus forced his eyes open.
Sirius smiled down at him, sweat-damp and flushed and ruined-beautiful.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Good boy.”
Remus broke all over again.
His hips jerked up without warning, and Sirius moaned, a sharp, startled sound, head tipping back as Remus’s cock punched deeper inside him.
“Oh—fuck—”
Remus froze immediately, horrified and shaking.
“S’rry,” he gasped. “Sorry, Sirius, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
Sirius looked down at him.
His eyes were darker now.
“Do that again.”
Remus stared.
“What?”
Sirius swallowed, then rolled his hips, testing, taunting.
“I said,” he breathed, “do that again.”
Remus’s hands flexed on his arse.
“Sirius—”
“Go on, Moony.”
“I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Sirius teased, though his voice trembled now, the edges fraying. “Come? Cry? Beg me for more?”
Remus’s lips parted.
Sirius leaned down, close enough that his mouth brushed Remus’s when he spoke.
“Do it.”
Remus bucked up.
Sirius cried out, body jolting, one hand flying to Remus’s shoulder for balance.
It was the sound that did something to Remus.
That sharp, cracked cry. The way Sirius’s grin shattered, the way his eyelashes fluttered, the way his body clenched around Remus so hot and tight that Remus looked like he’d been struck.
“Oh,” Remus whimpered. “Oh, fuck, Sirius—”
Sirius was panting now, still riding him, but messier. Needier. His movements had lost their elegant cruelty, turning greedy and rough, his thighs shaking as he chased it.
“Touch yourself,” Remus begged suddenly.
Sirius looked at him through damp hair.
“What?”
“Please,” Remus whined. “Please, Sirius, please, I want to see, please, I need—”
Sirius laughed, breathless and ruined.
“Need to see me come while I’m on your cock?”
Remus nodded so fast it was almost embarrassing.
“Yes. Yes, please, Pads, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good—”
“You’re already good,” Sirius murmured.
Remus’s face crumpled.
Sirius groaned at the sight of it, then wrapped a hand around his own cock.
Remus stopped breathing.
Sirius stroked himself once, slow and lazy, still moving on Remus, still taking him deep with every drop of his hips.
Remus stared like he’d been enchanted.
Sirius’s hand moved again.
His mouth opened.
Remus made a strangled noise.
“Fuck,” Sirius whispered. “You’re staring.”
“I know.”
“Dirty.”
“I know.”
“Can’t help yourself, can you?”
“No,” Remus said, desperate and immediate. “No, I can’t, I can’t, you’re—fuck, Sirius, you’re—”
“What?”
Remus shook his head, crying again, too gone for language.
Sirius stroked himself faster.
His hips kept moving, riding Remus’s cock in rough, shallow drops now, his breath coming in little gasps. The muscles in his thighs jumped. His stomach tightened. His hand moved slick and fast over himself, and Remus watched every second of it with tears tracking down his temples into his hair.
“Say it,” Sirius panted. “Come on, Moony. Say what you were going to say.”
Remus swallowed around a sob.
“You’re perfect.”
Sirius’s hand faltered.
Remus’s voice cracked open completely, soft and awed and destroyed.
“You’re perfect, Sirius. You’re perfect. You feel so good, you look so good, I can’t—I can’t believe you let me, I can’t believe—fuck, fuck, please, please don’t stop, please—”
Sirius’s expression twisted.
For a second, his teasing disappeared entirely.
He looked wrecked. Open. Too full of feeling to breathe around it.
Then his hand tightened on his cock, and he rode Remus harder.
“Moony,” he gasped.
Remus sobbed at the sound of his name.
“Sirius—”
“Touch me.”
Remus’s hands slid up from Sirius’s arse to his waist, then back down again almost instantly, as if he couldn’t decide where he needed to hold him most.
Sirius laughed breathlessly.
“Useless.”
“Yes,” Remus whimpered. “I know, I’m sorry—”
“No, no.” Sirius leaned over him, still jerking himself off, lips brushing Remus’s cheek. “My useless, pretty Moony.”
Remus whined.
Sirius’s hips stuttered.
“Oh—fuck.”
Remus felt it before he fully understood.
The way Sirius tightened around him.
The way his whole body locked.
The way his breath caught, sharp and bright.
“Sirius,” Remus whispered, reverent.
Sirius’s eyes fluttered shut.
His hand moved fast, rough, desperate over his own cock.
“Remus,” he gasped. “Remus, fuck, fuck—”
Remus grabbed his arse again, helplessly dragging him down, and Sirius came with a broken cry.
His body snapped tight over Remus, hips jerking as he spilled across Remus’s chest in hot white ropes. Remus gasped as it hit his skin, as it streaked over his ribs and stomach, as another rope landed higher, across his collarbone, and then Sirius shuddered again and some of it splashed Remus’s chin and lips.
Remus went utterly still.
His eyes went wide.
Sirius sagged forward with a ragged moan, still clenching around him, still shaking through it, and that—Sirius coming, Sirius tightening around his cock, Sirius’s come warm on his chest and chin and mouth—destroyed whatever careful, pleading restraint Remus had left.
He made a sound that wasn’t words.
Barely even human.
Sirius’s eyes opened.
“Moony—?”
Remus grabbed him.
Hard.
Sirius gasped, startled, as Remus’s arms locked around him, hauling him down against his chest. Remus’s hips snapped up.
Sirius screamed.
“Ah—!”
It tore out of him bright and shocked and wordless, his mouth falling open, drool slipping from his lower lip as Remus fucked up into him hard.
Once.
Twice.
Then again, faster.
Sirius’s hands scrabbled at Remus’s shoulders, his hair falling all over his face, his body no longer riding but being taken down onto every thrust, Remus dragging him close and fucking up into his ass like something inside him had finally snapped.
“Ah—ah—ah—nnngh—!”
Remus was crying openly now, whining with every thrust, his face pressed to Sirius’s shoulder, his hands bruising-tight on Sirius’s arse as he pulled him down to meet each buck of his hips.
“Sorry,” Remus sobbed, though he didn’t stop. “Sorry, sorry, fuck, Sirius, I can’t, I can’t stop, I can’t—”
Sirius made a choked, drooling noise.
“Ahh—uh—ah—!”
Remus shoved up into him again, deep and rough, the bed slamming harder beneath them.
Sirius’s head fell back.
“Mm—ah—ah—fuck—nnnh—!”
Remus’s whole body was shaking. His thighs trembled violently beneath Sirius, his stomach streaked with Sirius’s come, his chin wet with it, his lips parted around broken whimpers as he fucked into Sirius with no rhythm left except need.
“Sirius,” he whined. “Sirius, Sirius, I’m gonna—I’m gonna come, fuck, please, please, I’m sorry, please let me, please—”
Sirius couldn’t answer.
He only made another sound, high and wrecked, fingers digging into Remus’s shoulders.
“Ah—ah—hah—nnngh—!”
Remus sobbed like that was permission.
His hips bucked up harder.
Sirius cried out, body jerking helplessly, spit shining at his mouth, eyes glassy and unfocused.
Remus held him tighter.
“Can’t hold it,” he whimpered. “I can’t, Sirius, I can’t, you’re too tight, fuck, you’re so tight, I’m sorry—”
Sirius made a raw, broken noise and clenched around him again.
Remus’s breath caught.
His whole body seized.
“Oh,” he gasped. “Oh, fuck—”
He shoved up deep one last time, dragging Sirius down onto him as far as he could, and came with a cracked, desperate sob.
His face twisted, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping down his cheeks as he spilled deep inside Sirius. His cock pulsed hard, buried to the root, and Sirius shook against him with a strangled moan, his whole body trembling through the feeling of it.
Then Remus’s breath hitched again.
His hands gripped Sirius tighter.
Sirius blinked dazedly, still panting, still slack-mouthed and drooling faintly against Remus’s shoulder.
Remus whimpered.
“Sirius—”
The knot began to swell.
Sirius gasped.
His fingers clenched.
Remus groaned like it hurt, like it was relief, like it was worship. His hips gave one helpless little jerk before he froze himself with a sob, burying his face against Sirius’s neck.
“Fuck,” Sirius breathed, the first word he’d managed in what felt like forever.
Remus shook beneath him.
“I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I—”
Sirius made a wrecked sound that might’ve been a laugh if he’d had any strength left.
“Remus.”
Remus went silent instantly except for his ragged breathing.
Sirius lifted one shaking hand and dragged it through Remus’s hair.
“Breathe.”
Remus tried.
It came out as a sob.
Sirius huffed against him, spent and trembling.
“Again.”
Remus dragged in another breath, broken but deeper.
“That’s it,” Sirius whispered, voice hoarse. “Good. There you are.”
Remus’s arms were still locked around him, holding him close, his cock still buried inside Sirius, his knot full and tight and trapping them together. Sirius could feel every pulse of him, every shiver, every desperate little aftershock.
The dormitory smelled of sweat and sex and linen and the sharp summer warmth of the closed room.
The bed no longer creaked.
The castle beyond the walls went on murmuring to itself, ancient and indifferent.
Inside, there was only breathing.
Sirius’s cheek rested against Remus’s temple. His hair spilled over both of them, black against brown, damp strands clinging to Remus’s flushed skin. Remus’s chest rose and fell beneath him, slick with Sirius’s come, his chin still marked with it, his mouth kiss-swollen and trembling.
Sirius shifted slightly, then stopped when Remus made a panicked little noise.
“Sorry,” Sirius murmured.
Remus shook his head quickly.
“No. No, don’t—don’t be sorry.”
Sirius’s hand moved through his hair again, slower this time.
“You alright?”
Remus gave a broken laugh into his neck.
“Am I alright?”
“You’re the one who looks like you’ve seen Merlin naked.”
Remus whimpered, embarrassed and exhausted.
“Sirius.”
“What?”
“Don’t make me laugh. I’ll die.”
Sirius smiled faintly, eyes half-lidded.
“Dramatic.”
Remus breathed shakily.
“You’re one to talk.”
Sirius hummed, soft and smug at last in the way only Sirius could afford to be after being thoroughly ruined. But Remus heard it and tensed, and Sirius immediately softened again, thumb stroking the back of his neck.
“Hey,” Sirius whispered. “I’m here.”
Remus held him tighter.
“I know.”
“You’ve got me.”
Remus’s breath hitched.
“I know.”
Sirius closed his eyes, his body heavy and boneless over Remus’s, still pinned in place by him, still full of him.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Remus’s tears dried slowly against his cheeks. His breathing steadied. His hands loosened on Sirius’s arse but didn’t leave him, palms resting there like he still needed to remember Sirius was real.
Eventually, Sirius nuzzled lazily at the side of his face.
“You cried all over me.”
Remus gave a mortified groan.
“Sirius.”
“You did.”
“Please don’t.”
“And begged.”
Remus tried to bury his face deeper against Sirius’s neck, despite the fact there was nowhere left to hide.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No,” Remus admitted, voice small and rough. “I don’t.”
Sirius smiled against his skin.
“I like you like this.”
Remus went still.
Sirius opened his eyes.
“Not hurt,” he said quietly. “Not upset. Like this. Honest.”
Remus swallowed.
His voice was barely there when he answered.
“I can’t help it with you.”
Sirius’s expression softened into something almost unbearably tender.
“I know.”
“I try,” Remus whispered. “I try not to be—”
“Don’t.”
Remus fell silent.
Sirius lifted his head just enough to look at him properly.
His own face was flushed and damp, lips swollen, eyes dark and exhausted. He looked wrecked and gorgeous and unbearably alive.
“Don’t,” Sirius said again, quieter. “Not with me.”
Remus stared up at him, helpless and too full.
Then his face crumpled slightly.
“Sirius.”
“Oh, Moony.” Sirius kissed him softly, once, tasting salt and sweat and himself on Remus’s lips. “You’re ridiculous.”
Remus let out a shaky breath against his mouth.
“I know.”
“Beautiful, though.”
Remus closed his eyes.
“Sirius—”
“And mine.”
Remus’s arms tightened again, not frantic this time. Just certain.
“Yours,” he whispered.
Sirius settled back down against him with a faint, satisfied sigh.
“Good.”
Remus let out something that almost sounded like a laugh.
“That’s it?”
“Mhm.”
“I’m ruined and you’re saying good?”
Sirius smiled against his chest.
“You’re very pretty ruined.”
Remus groaned faintly, but there was no real protest in it.
Sirius’s fingers traced idle nonsense against his shoulder.
Remus stared at the ceiling, breathing slowly beneath him, his body still trembling in little fading waves.
“You’re heavy,” he murmured after a while.
Sirius didn’t move.
“Rude.”
“I didn’t say move.”
“Better.”
Remus’s mouth twitched.
Sirius turned his head, cheek pressed to Remus’s chest, and listened to his heart hammering beneath his skin.
Still fast.
Still trying to outrun what had just happened.
Sirius smiled.
“Moony?”
Remus’s hand slid carefully up his back.
“Yeah?”
“Next time,” Sirius said, voice soft with exhaustion and wickedness, “you can beg louder.”
Remus made a wounded, hopeless sound.
Sirius laughed against him, low and tired and warm.
And Remus, trapped beneath him, inside him, held by him, could only close his eyes and breathe, still shaking, still full of awe, still stupid with it.
Outside, the castle carried on.
Inside, the dormitory remained theirs.
The locked door. The tangled sheets. The ruined bed. The air warm and thick around them.
Sirius stayed draped over Remus’s chest, loose-limbed and shining with sweat, one hand curled lazily at the side of Remus’s neck.
Remus kept both hands on him like prayer.
And neither of them moved.
