#semi-public

John can hear the real tone beneath your words. It's a silent plea to take control over what’s going on in the cabin. In the fogged glass windows. John shifts closer to you, his large knee brushing up against yours. Then his thigh is brushing against yours warm to the touch even through two layers of jeans. Finally his chest is pressed into yours. 

The cold winter air is somehow not in the cabin anymore. The air is warm with tension and passion that is being pushed out of John's thick body. “You wanna know something, love?” He asks, you hum in his touch. “You’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy… all damn night.” he murmurs as his lips brush gently against your cheek. “Did you know that you were doing it?” He asks. 

You shake your head ‘no’ as John noses grazes ever so softly down your jaw. Causing goosebumps to litter your skin under your many layers of clothes. Your stomach does about seven summersaults. “You just kept given’ me that look, love.” He says, his voice dropping a few octaves. “You know, like you wanted me to take you right there in the middle of the damn festival for everyone to see.” You whimper at his words, and John arches a brow at you, pulling back enough to see your face casted in a shadow. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

You can feel your heart beat faster in your chest, and how your breath seems to crack around the edges. Your breath doesn’t even fog up between you and John from the sheer heat being exchanged between your bodies. He teases you, squeezing your thigh, harder and it claims you. “But now we seem to be stuck up here.” “All alone, so one can interrupt us.” 

There’s shouting coming from the bottom of the ferris wheel but neither of you care about what the words are saying, and then finally John's mouth has locked onto yours. The kiss is slow, calculated and teasing at first. Until you’re leaning into his lap and his grip on you shifts. Pulling you into his lap. His large hands lay claim to your jean covered hips. You deepen the kiss and John lets out a low, groan. 

John always kisses you like he wants to mark you, ruin you for anyone else. John wants everyone around you to know that he’s the reason your lipstick is smeared at the edges, that he’s the reason why you walk a little limp. John kisses you like he’s a man that has been without water for years in the desert. John kisses you like he’s starving. 

Your winter coat shifts, and bunches between your shared space. With John's large hands staking claim on your hips there’s so much warmth, heat and passion between the two of you. “Oh Price…” Your voice all but breaks as John uses his position and grip to grind you down on his growing hard-on in his jeans. 

John is hungry to get his mouth on your exposed skin. Pressing kisses down your neck. “Yeah, love.” He mutters against your throat. “Feel how hard you make me? That’s all you're doing.” He tells you. John has a set of hands that roam. They roam all over your body, cold against your warm skin as he drags them down your spine, up and then back down your stomach. When they finally return to their place on your hip he’s got you in a dirty, slow grind against him that has you trying to catch your breath with every grind. 

Everything that is happening between you and John is calculated, deliberate and possessive. John owns you in the moment, and will probably own you after this god forsaken ferris wheel sets the both of you back down on the ground with ease.

 With that thought the Ferris wheel shifts again, not smooth a few groans of the metal sound through the wheel. The night life continues on, the lights from peoples houses can be seen from your height in the sky. The glass fogs quicker now that you’re higher and the air is colder around you. 

With the shift of the ferris wheel, you grind into John's hard-on with a sheer force that has his breathing growing rougher, heavier as if ghosts over your damp skin. John moves his thumbs up and onto your sweet plush stomach. Rubbing circles into the soft flesh grounding the both of you. “Fuckin’ hell, love you’re trying to kill I swear.” He mutters as you rock your hips.

Once and then twice. You can feel his heat radiating off of him, and he’s growing hotter by the second. He barely keeps the growl as a groan that leaves his chest. “Do… fuck do that again, love.” He begs, and you follow his words. His breath catches in the back of his throat. 

“Fuck, fuckin’ me up on purpose, love?” He asks, you tease “Maybe I am John.” You say, There is a dark, hungry heat behind his eyes when he lifts his head and looks up at you. “Come on, love to say it properly.” He urges you, when your lips part to speak, John can’t help but reach up and drag his warm thumb against your bottom lip. 

Dragging it down and slipping his thumb inside. 

“Don’t get all shy on me now, tell me you’re doing it on purpose so I can lose my mind.” He wants the truth, and the truth he’ll get. Because it’s true “Yeah, I am” You whisper around his thumb.  John seems to be done waiting for you to make a move, and for the ferris wheel to shift once more, so he's pulling you from his lap. Twisting you till your ass is lined up with his jean covered cock. 

“Tell me that you want me to fuck you right here.” He demands of you as his large hands rub at the globes of your ass. “I don’t wanna stop.” You answer, he takes it. It’s enough to have him demanding you of things. “Unbutton those pretty tight fuckin’ jeans.”, you work quickly to drag the button from it’s place and drag down the jeans. Shivering as the cold air hits the warmest parts of you. 

You can hear the belt buckle of John's jeans hit the metal bench beneath him. “Come on love, I’m tired of waiting.” He murmurs as he guides you back down on his lap. You can feel the leaky, hot head of his cock nudge at your entrance. Wet and ready for his cock to slip right in. The stretch is welcomed as you take it slow before bottoming out on his cock.

The groan that falls from his lips is delicious to your ears. Again John's hands find their place on your hips. Helping you bounce on his cock. The first three thrusts back up into your are experimental. “Oh fuck…” You moan, as your hands find the tops of John's knees.

The cabin rocks a little as your pace, and speed grows with every thrust. “Just like that, love.” John encourages as he rubs sweet circles into your skin. Your moans bounce around the fog covered glass, and your head falls forward. “Jesus christ… I’ve never.” You mutter as you catch a glimpse of the two of you. 

You can see John shit eating a grin plastered against his soft and worn features. “Yeah… but I can feel how excited you are about this.” He says, thrusting up to match your pace. Your eyes almost cross when John manages to hit the best, and most special part of you on the first try.

“I can feel you tighten up every time you look out the cabin window.” John tells you. You moan as once again John meets you half way. Thrusting up causes the cabin to shake even more, but it doesn’t matter to either one of you. 

With one hand staying on your hip, another wraps around to your middle and presses a caulcussed worn middle and pointer fingers into your forgotten clit. Your moans fall out quicker, and breather. “Fuck… oh John.” You can’t concentrate and John knows exactly, so he takes over.

His grip on your hip is bruising but you’re okay with it as he takes over control. Thrusting into you at a pace that has you crying on his cock. John watches his cock slip in and out of your heat. “John… I’m gonna… Please…” You beg. “I know, love. I’m always there. You’ll wait for me won’t you.” You shake your head with a vigor he’s sure has your neck hurting. 

From that point, the snap of John's hips is erratic. Chasing his own high, and making sure that you’re right there with him. “Inside, please John.” You moan as he keeps thrusting up inside of you. “Oh shit, love. Can’t be sayin’ shit like that.” He growls out, his teeth clenched and his brows furrowed as he focuses on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock. “Give a man a heart attack,” he mutters. A few more strong,  but sloppy thrusts he’s whispering into your ear. “Cum on my cock, love.” He tells you. 

Heavy breaths and your comb filled. You both try to catch your breaths. John rubs at the bruises forming around your hips. “Fuckin’ animal you are.” He mutters to you as he presses a few kisses into your back. Even through the jacket you can feel the sensation and the meaning behind them. “I didn’t start it.” You say, “Oh, love you most certainly did, and now you’re filled up. Nice and warm.”  John says tapping the tops of your ass. 

The ferris wheel comes to life. And stays alive once more. Your jeans are still bunched up at your knees. John is quick to help you back up into your jeans. He’s careful with putting himself back into his jeans before latching the belt buckle. “I’m not done with you.” John says as you sit down next to you. Your face is flushed and your wife is blown wide. “I know, John.” you say it like you knew that this was gonna happen. Like you had planned it all perfectly. 

“Good because the second that door opens, we are running. No walking back to the car.” John promises you. The doors to the cabin open and the line of people is the first thing you see. You grab a hold of John's hand and let him drag you into the crowd. You don’t hear how the couple mutters that the cabin smells oddly of passion, and sex.

Kinkmas 25' Master List

Day 12 James Sunderland -> Day 14 Logan Howlett

"Could you say that one more time for me?", you asked with a grin taking over your face.

"Hey, don't tease me.", the demon blushed.

"I would never", you paused, "I'd rather please you instead, though."

He was visibly shocked by your response. Clearly not expecting you to reply in that manner. However, he didn't look bothered by your proposal one bit. On the contrary, he seemed excited.

You offered him your hand and he took it into his in an instant. You lead the way to a secluded area nearby which was full of trees and where you could have a few moments of alone time with your prince of hell.

Witthout any warning, you pushed him into one of the trees which was closer to you and began kissing him. Slowly and gently at first, but after a while the kisses became rougher as you grew more impatient. Ever since you saw him the first time, it was something about him that was drawing you in. It was luring you and you couldn't resist the temptation. Now even less seeing that Belphegor was returning the same feelings.

As you palmed his growing erection through his pants, you licked your lips fantasizing about the feeling of having it inside you. You just had to have him as soon as possible. In any way possible. You wanted him whole.

"I want you, Belphie. I want you to be mine!", you moaned through the passionate kisses that you showered his neck with.

"Well, make me yours then...", he said softly while putting himself at your mercy.

Dropping to your knees, you wasted no time and unzipped his pants before gripping his member. In the beginning, you gave it long licks and slow agonizing kisses before suddenly taking his length all the way into your mouth without a warning. That made the demon gasp and tighten the grip he had on your hair. It only motivated you to do more, to do better, to drive him insane.

As your pace got faster you felt him twitch into your mouth. Saliva mixed with precum dripped onto your chin. It made you feel dirtier than ever before, but you surprisingly didn't mind. You could feel he was close, so you stopped. That angered the Avatar of Sloth and awakened his primal instincts. He pulled you up by your hair and pushed you into the tree instead, bending you over.

He lifted your dress up and pulled your panties down to your ankles. With one swift motion he inserted himself inside you. He was rough and to prevent you from giving away your location, he covered your mouth with one of his hands as the other one was rubbing onto your sensitive spot.

You could hear Asmodeus calling your names, most probably looking for you. But you had other business to attend to. In fact, it made the whole situation even hotter. To think that the brothers were looking for you, clueless to the fact that you were actually getting fucked against a tree a few meters away from them. It made your insides tingle.

The stimulation from his rough thrusts hitting all the right spots inside you combine with the risky nature of the situation additionally to the stimulation of your clitoris pushed you over the edge.

As you were cumming, Belphegor finalized the pact previously to reaching climax himself. After pulling out from you, he pulled your panties back up to keep his semen from dripping down your legs.

He was now fully yours. Not only you made him yours physically, but he offered himself up to you. He made a pact and it nothing couldn't make you feel happier.

After fixing your hair and clothes you went back to the party. Strategically avoiding everyone, you hurried to get to the closest bathroom. You needed to do something about your...circumstances. However, on your way to the bathroom you were stopped by a smirking Asmodeus.

It's also the one day where it is oh so easy to hook up with any melancholic chick, to soothe her broken heart when she didn't get asked out like all of her friends, and really needs a shoulder to cry on, strong arms to hold her.

Which is, of course, also dangerous grounds to walk on, because next thing you know, she thinks it's love. And what's love got to do with it? It would be nothing more than a quick dip in the sheets, or in the back of his camaro. It's only physical, but apparently bitches never understands that.

Unfortunately, this year is different. February 14th, 1984, in shitty little Hawkins, Indiana.

-

Tina Turner don't know shit, Billy thinks and scowls, as if the song is aimed at him and how he's staring. Takes another gulp of his cup.

“Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken.”

Shut up.

“It may seem to you that I'm acting confused when you're close to me-”

-

And his hand, hanging down by his side next to Steve, moves in search of warm skin to satiate the cravings of a neglected heart. Hears the lyrics in his head-

“You must understand though the touch of your hand makes my pulse react, that it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl.”

-even though the band must have moved on to a different song by now.

And the way Steve doesn't pull away from the touch, but rather moves into it sends a jolt of electricity to Billy's heart; like what he imagines the sensation of defibrillators reviving you must be like. He has to look away in case it shows on his face, how elated he feels from this slight bit of attention.

How easy it is to break him.

“-I've been thinking about my own protection; it scares me to feel this way.”

-

He feels how Steve moves his hips, grooves along with the faint rhythm of what's behind this tall wall. Grinds his hardening dick against his own slight erection. Notices the stutter that trembles through Steve's motion whenever Billy moans.

Teasingly so, he whispers out, “Stevie,” and grabs him by the hips.

“Ah, Billy, I'm-” Steve bites down on his lip to strangle a lascivious little sound.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Billy grins wide and looks down where he can just barely see that gorgeous bulge.

Then he lifts up his leg; puts his foot against the wall so that his bent leg can slot in between Steve's thighs, perfectly pushing up against where he's so needy.

The second they were out of view, Sirius pushed Remus against the wall and shoved both hands up his shirt with reckless abandon. “Jesus—Christ,” Remus said between frantic kisses, leaving a bite on his lower lip. “Impatient, much?”

“Off,” Sirius demanded, though it came out as more of a pathetic plea as he slid one hand down to cup Remus’ ass.

“We’re in public,” Remus mumbled against his lips.

“Don’t care.”

“You’re gonna break my ass if you keep squeezing that hard.”

Sirius whined into his mouth and pushed their hips together. “Skinny jeans.”

“I fucking knew it,” Remus said with a grin. “Come on.”

“Wh—” A hand closed around his wrist and Remus dragged him down the hallway at a run, his face bright with excitement and flushed with arousal. Sirius had been looking forward to a heavy makeout session and maybe a handjob in the hall, but he couldn’t bring himself to protest when letting Remus haul him around meant he could stare at the best ass the world had ever seen for a few moments longer. Want, he thought. Want that. Now.

Remus opened a door on the left with clumsy fingers and pulled him inside with a hand on the back of his neck; as soon as the door shut, he broke away from the kiss and hurried over to the desk. “Two seconds,” he panted.

“I…okay?” Sirius leaned back against the door in confusion. They were in the PT room—he’d know that place anywhere, even through his lust-addled haze—and Remus was stealing Layla’s chair. “Why do you need that?”

“I really hope she didn’t find it,” Remus muttered to himself as he stood on the seat and stretched to reach the gap between the built-in shelves and the ceiling. After a moment of befuddling silence, his face split into a grin. “Got it.”

“Can I kiss you now?” Sirius asked.

“You can do more than that,” Remus said, hopping down from his perch. He tossed a small tube across the room and swaggered over, obviously proud of himself. Sirius frowned at the tube; it was too dark to read the label, but it seemed familiar.

Realization struck just as Remus reached him. “Is this lube?”

“Yup.”

“You keep lube in Layla’s office?”

“I kept lube in my office,” Remus corrected, wrapping his hands in the front of Sirius’ shirt and turning them so his own back was against the door. “And I forgot about it until five minutes ago. Thank god she’s short.”

“Why?”

Remus sighed through his nose. “Because I was horny and ever-hopeful, and maybe I harbored a fantasy or two about fucking on the desk. Does it matter?”

Sirius wasn’t sure his eyebrows could creep any higher. “Was that—are we going to—?”

“Are you kidding? Hell no. I’m not desecrating Layla’s desk. However, we are going to be fucking against this door, so if you would kindly take your shirt off, it would be appreciated.”

Sirius paused, then wrenched his shirt over his head so fast he nearly tore the fabric, crowding closer to Remus to drown in his kisses and his hands roving Sirius’ bare skin. He was practically vibrating with anticipation—Remus wasn’t the only one with fantasies about exciting times in the PT room, but until that moment Sirius had been sure his own were nothing more than a pipe dream.

Except this pipe dream seemed awfully real, and it came equipped with skinny jeans.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he murmured into the side of Remus’ neck, gripping his waist tight over the denim as their hips rocked together. “You and your legs.”

Remus pulled his face up for another openmouthed kiss as his hand snuck down to undo Sirius’ belt, fumbling with the clasp and button before yanking the zipper open. “What are you going to do about it, captain?”

New voices echoed in the hall outside and they both went still, though Remus’ smile didn’t falter in the slightest. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to have to be quiet.”

“I can be quiet.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it hard for you.”

“I’m always hard for you,” Remus teased, leaning back against the door with a huff as Sirius bit down on the junction of his shoulder. “Now come on, slowpoke, I didn’t get that lube down for nothing.”

Sirius made a disgruntled noise into his skin and smacked him lightly on the thigh; Remus just laughed, though it was more breathless than before. The clear outline of his dick stood out in his skinny jeans and Sirius rubbed his palm over the shaft with steady pressure until Remus’ exhales trembled and his feet began to shuffle on the linoleum. “What if I want to see you come all over those skinny jeans?”

“No,” Remus whined, bucking his hips as Sirius traced the head. “Fuck, Sirius, I gave you the lube for a reason.”

“I could blow you.” He carefully undid the front button and slid the zipper down at a snail’s pace. He could feel his own heartbeat in his dick already, but shoved that thought to the back of his mind. “Return the favor after all that time in here?”

Remus grumbled into the dip of his shoulder, then leaned away to glare. “Either fuck me or I’ll do it myself.”

“You don’t want my mouth?”

“I want your mouth on me and your dick in me,” he fired back, though Sirius could see the playfulness in his eyes as he pulled Sirius’ lower lip between his teeth. “Get with the program, captain.”

Sirius nuzzled into his cheek, leaving a kiss by the corner of his mouth. “Will you wear these every day?”

“You like them?”

He moved his hands from Remus’ hips back his ass, grabbing a handful of each side with a hum. “You look like a walking wet dream.”

“Then do something about it.”

“Ask nicely.”

“I stood on a chair to get you lube,” Remus snorted. “That’s pretty damn nice.”

“Say ‘please’.”

“Why?”

“Because otherwise I’ll keep doing this until you can’t take it anymore.” Sirius begrudgingly moved one hand back around to hold Remus’ dick through his pants; he shifted, brows pitching, before he sighed.

“Then do something about it please.”

A thrill raced white-hot through Sirius’ stomach and up his spine, and he slipped both hands under the high waistband to slowly drag them down Remus’ thighs, revealing first his boxers, then miles of golden skin. “Off,” he said quietly when they reached his ankles. Remus’ throat bobbed and he kicked first his shoes off, then his jeans. Sirius tossed his own aside as well and began the all-important removal of Remus’ henley. “You should wear this more often, too.”

Remus cleared his throat. “Yeah, okay.”

“Wasn’t that easy?” Sirius didn’t give him the chance to respond—his lips were looking far too kissable to worry about things like that, especially when the snark melted out of Remus on a slow breath when their lips met. More people ran by outside, but he didn’t care. They had no lights on, and he would make sure they were quiet enough. “Up.”

Remus pushed down on his shoulders just as Sirius caught him by the thighs and hoisted him up against the door; some of the dizzying arousal on his face gave way to a giddy smile. “I love it when you do that. Which leg d’you want me to keep down?”

Sirius smiled and nudged their noses together. “Neither.”

A beat of silence fell over the room. “But…I won’t have leverage.”

“And?”

“And I need leverage.”

“Says who?” Sirius dipped his fingertips under the waistband of Remus’ boxers and kissed the confusion off his face. “I can hold you.”

His breaths turned shallow with anticipation; Sirius snapped the elastic against his skin before pulling it down, down, down over the curve of his ass and the muscle of his thighs as they clenched around his waist. He did have to set him down for a moment to get both their boxers off, but within moments Remus’ heartbeat was pounding next to his shoulder again and Sirius was in perfect range to lean up and kiss him.

The lube was small enough that he could open it with one hand and squeeze it directly onto Remus’ cleft, making him jolt with a hushed curse. Sirius capped it again and tossed it onto the closest table, still supporting Remus with one arm under him and their hips pressed flush together. He gathered some of the lube onto his fingers and circled his hole before sliding in—he didn’t stop at the first knuckle to let Remus adjust and instead kept pushing until the whole digit was inside.

Remus’ mouth fell open slightly; he tried to rock down for more, but he couldn’t do much other than tighten his thighs around Sirius. “Leverage.”

“You don’t need it.”

“Can’t move,” Remus whined, squirming until a second finger started moving in beside the first. A shiver rolled through him when Sirius crooked them; outside, the music from the party was still making the wooden door tremble. Earlier in the night, he had fantasized about ditching the team party to spend the night with a pair of glorious legs thrown over his shoulders—now, he knew there was no better way to avoid Harzy’s godawful spiked punch than fucking his boyfriend in said boyfriend’s previous office.

“How much do you want to feel it?” Sirius asked as Remus buried his face in his neck.

“Game,” he managed around a moan as Sirius found his sweet spot. “Can’t—need to be okay for the game—god fuck there.”

The music softened for a moment as the songs switched and Sirius shushed him. “Quiet, mon coeur, they’ll hear you.”

Remus bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle the answering choked whine, and Sirius took his fingers out to gently pull it free. Remus had bitten his lip bloody trying to keep quiet before, but tonight wasn’t about how rough they could be. It was about giving him a taste of what those skinny jeans did to Sirius, and making sure he never forgot it. “Put it back,” Remus pleaded. “Put it back.”

“Nice and slow,” Sirius soothed. “We’ve got a game, you said it yourself. Have to make sure you’re relaxed.”

Remus closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, toying with the hair at the nape of Sirius’ neck. This is going to be fun, Sirius thought as he pushed two fingers back in. Very, very fun.

-------------

“Storage closet,” Nado confirmed as he plopped down next to James on one of the leather couches in the game room. “Could hear ‘em from all the way down the hall.”

“Hey, I get it,” James said with a shake of his head. “Nat was in Florida for, like, two weeks. I miss Lily after two days. Kudos to them for finding a place to fuck without actually ditching the party.”

Nado took a swig of beer. “What’s the tally?”

“Cubs in the break room, Cap and Loops…somewhere, and now Nat and Kasey in the storage closet.” James counted on his fingers. “Sounds like a damn successful party to me.”

“Amen.” Nado clinked their bottles together. “I bet you a Kinder egg Cap and Loops are in the PT room.”

“Deal.”

“Pay up, then, ‘cause I heard them while I was walking back.”

“Aw, come on,” James complained. “That’s so not fair!”

“Thunk, thunk, thunk,” Nado mimicked with a grin. “The Kinder egg is for emotional support.”

“Cheater,” James muttered.

-------------

“Oh, fuck, there,” Remus panted, tilting his head back as Sirius canted his hips forward for the next thrust. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want.” Sweat dripped down Sirius’ temple and he wiped it on his shoulder without breaking pace; he had been holding Remus up with the help of the door for over ten minutes, and he was finally starting to feel a slight burn. Remus’ turned his face to the side as his whole body tensed, bracing against the doorjamb with one arm and gripping under Sirius’ shoulder with the other.

“Anything,” he moaned.

“You have to be quiet, mon loup.” Sirius nosed along the glistening expanse of Remus’ neck, leaving bites and kisses in his wake.

“I can’t.”

“Be good for me.”

“ ‘m trying, promise.” Remus’ shaking thigh dug into his waist as he tried to breathe through it, only for a whimper to escape when Sirius sucked a mark beneath his collarbone.

“I can make you, if I have to.”

He heard Remus’ breath catch, hitching between thrusts, and Sirius kept one hand on each side of his ass to support him. He locked his ankles at the small of Sirius’ back with a soft noise. “My mouth, I—your neck, please, please, I can’t reach.”

“I can’t get you—” He broke off with an oh of his own as Remus tightened around him. “—close enough, not like this.”

“Fuck,” Remus huffed. His teeth slid over his lower lip again; an idea sprang to life in Sirius’ mind.

“You want something in your mouth, mon amour?”

“Yes, yes, pl—”

Sirius interrupted him by sliding two fingers into his mouth, muffling the answering moan. “Is that good?”

Remus nodded enthusiastically, running his tongue over the pads of Sirius’ fingers. The burn in his right arm grew a bit more intense without the help of the left to keep Remus up, but the change in position seemed to be doing something good—Remus’ eyes fluttered shut and his abs jumped at the feeling. Sirius’ fingertips buzzed with each sound he pulled from him, each slurred plea, each choked groan as Remus’ lips turned cherry red around them. The party was still roaring, but in the darkness of the PT room there was nothing but them and the door.

“Can you come like this?” Sirius asked, speeding up his pace by a degree. He didn’t want his arm to seize and drop Remus, but he wasn’t too keen on stopping the waves of pleasure crashing down his spine, either.

Remus paused, then nodded with some hesitation. “Dunno,” he managed around Sirius’ fingers. “Tired?”

“Just my arm,” Sirius admitted with a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I’m okay right now, though.”

“Mhmm—” Remus cut off with a sharp gasp and a series of short inhales; his hands dug into Sirius’ back muscles and he sucked hard on the digits pressing his tongue down.

“Like that?” Sirius circled his hips again and Remus’ eyes unfocused for a second as his dick twitched. “D’accord.”

After that, it was almost too easy. Sirius closed his eyes and kept his face tucked against the side of Remus’ neck as he shook closer to the edge with every passing moment, focusing less on the burn of his arm and more on the wet warmth around his fingers. A few stray tears of overwhelming pleasure dripped down Remus’ cheeks as he pushed back as best he could and Sirius hitched him higher up the door, kissing away the tracks. Within moments, their heartbeats and breaths were the only thing he could hear.

Remus mumbled some form of his name and Sirius pulled away from the collection of hickeys forming on his neck to kiss him on the side of the mouth; with great effort, Remus raised an unsteady hand and pulled Sirius’ away from his mouth. “Almost there,” he breathed, voice wound wire-taut. “Almost.”

“You earned it. À tout moment.” Any time. Remus’ face scrunched, his knee slid up to Sirius’ ribcage, and then Sirius wrapped his spit-slick hand around his shaft and he came with a shuddering exhale, gripping the backs of Sirius’ shoulders like his life depended on it as he swallowed his moans.

He was hot and tight and Sirius could feel both their rabbit-quick pulses—he moved both hands back to Remus’ ass and kept his face pressed close to his neck as he came with a bitten-back whine, his knees nearly giving out under him. As soon as his vision stopped blurring, he set Remus down and they both sank to the floor. “Holy shit,” Remus said at last, leaning his head on Sirius’ arm.

“Holy shit,” Sirius agreed.

Remus sat up and ran a hand down his face, using his abandoned shirt to wipe away the sweat and tearstains. “Thanks for sneaking into my old office for mindblowing sex.”

Sirius wasn’t sure his lungs would ever be at full capacity again. “No problem.”

They both laughed at that, then found they couldn’t stop. It took three full minutes for Sirius to catch his breath again, and the first thing he did was press a gentle kiss to Remus’ lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sirius said with a smile. “Do you think they miss us yet?”

“Are you kidding?” Remus snorted. “They probably haven’t realized we’re gone. Kasey and Nat ran off a good ten minutes before us, too, so it’s not like we did some scandalous new thing.”

“And alcohol.”

“And alcohol.” Remus pulled one of Sirius’ arms over his shoulders and cuddled into his side with a contented hum. “We’re going to have to clean this door, but I don’t think I can move yet.”

“Did you also store water and snacks in here, by chance?”

“I already feel bad about ruining Layla’s door. I’m not emotionally prepared to steal her food, too.”

“We can sneak to the bathroom in cinq minutes,” Sirius said, checking Remus’ watch with a yawn. “Dix minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” Remus repeated sleepily. “Then I’ll see if I can get those jeans on again.”

“Don’t remind me,” Sirius groaned.

“If that’s what happens when I wear them, those skinny jeans are staying on until I’m dead. Bury me in them.”

“Noted.”

A rapid knock on the door didn’t get even a flinch out of either of them. “Occupied,” Remus called.

"Yes there's a problem!"

Hermione sat down on the opposite side of the table, dragging Ron with her, and away from the bar, sloshing her own drink over the sides of her glass.

"Oh?" Draco said, his voice clearly bored. "And what is the problem, Granger?"

Harry made the mistake of thinking Draco was invested in whatever it was that Hermione had to say. He discovered he was wrong almost at the same second he took a sip of his warming beer.

Draco, somehow, despite being drunk, unbuttoned his loose fitting jeans with one hand before slipping it inside. It was all Harry could do not to choke on his mouthful.

Draco Malfoy was tugging Harry's cock out of his boxers in the middle of a pub.

Draco Malfoy was giving him a hand job in the middle of a pub.

Their friends were all around them and one of Harry's best friends was slowly touching his cock, running his finger across his slit, figuring out the sensitive spots on his shaft, in the middle of a pub.

Harry'd never been so glad that he didn't blush easily.

He could hear Hermione saying something to Pansy (when had she sat down?), something about Ginny and Blaise, but all his awareness right now was focused on not opening his mouth and moaning as Draco's hand stroked him.

"... Don't understand why they can't leave if they're going to fornicate like that," Hermione said.

"Get a grip, Granger," Draco said. ("No, please don't get a grip, Hermione, one is enough.") "It's not like either of them has their bits out."

"It's shameful," Hermione said. "You can't just dry-hump someone in the middle of a dance floor."

"Uungh."

"See, Harry agrees with me." She gestured at Harry like he had actually contributed to the conversation and Harry looked from her to Draco.

"Do tell us more about how you can't have sex in public, Potter. I'd love to hear about it."

"Really?" Harry managed to ask. "Because Hermione's better... with words... I mean."

"Are you ok, Harry?" Hermione asked. "You sound like you should be getting home before you drink yourself stupid."

"In a bit." Harry dropped his head onto his arm which was resting on the edge of the table. "Just... need to... rest. Just a sec." His eyes were pinned on Draco's pale hand moving steadily up and down his flushed, red prick. He could see his own pre-come dripping slowly from his slit only for Draco's hand to smear it downwards.

"It's fine, Granger." Draco's voice sounded like it was coming from miles away. "I'll get him home as soon as he's able to walk a little."

Then Draco's hand was tucking his cock away, leaving him hard and aching and desperate for more. Two soft pats of his hand on Harry's newly concealed bulge was all he had before Draco took his hand away.

He looked up in time to see Draco delicately lick and suck at the bottom part of his index finger before he moved his hand away from his face, only to smile, then wink, at Harry.

Oh yeah.