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firewhiskeyficTitle: Hidden, safe and sound.
Author:sdk boom!
I am of legal drinking age in my region: (yes/no) you betcha your ass!
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Sirius/Harry, past Sirius/Remus, unrequited Sirius/James
Challenge: full moons, I think. Oh and yes, the birthday boy!! Sirius Black! Nad I think I mentioned the astronomy tower, and I know the quote which ai am stop lazy to look at right now inspired me, but idk. Can’t remember exactly what’ s going on hers.
Summary: Sirius and Harry have a ritual. Things goes a little differently this time round.
Rating/Warnings: Rish—like hard r. Like I haycock. Not for kiddies!!! // Warnings. Are like frotting and hand jobs and just messed up stuff that probably doesn’t make sense? Aoh and dub-con, most definitely. But everyone’s of age.
Word count: 2K or something.
Author's Notes (if any): fuck me, I’m drunk. Oh and it’s probably important to note that Sirius lived and Remus died, like I know he died in canon, but this is AU clearly so not the same way though I don’t think I explain any of that. And Harry and Sirius share Grimmmaald Place. And Idk if I mentioned that either.
Harry waits at the foot of the stairs. The sun has just set, and he knows any second now--
A door creaks ipen and a moment later, Sirius emerges at the top of the stairs. He's all smiles. He always is. They nevr reach his eyes. But Harry pretends. He knows that's what Sirius would want, after all.
He smiles back. "Pub?"
"Yeah, if you don't have plans..."
"All yours," Harry says. He never makes plans on this night. Or rather, he onl y has one plan.
Sirius binds down the stairs like a man half his age. He really isn't old, though his stint in Azkaban aged him far more than he should look. Still, Harry likes the wrinksles around Sirius' eyes, the way he fills out his ratty black tee and holey jeans, the strands of grey slithering through the black waves of his hair.
Sirius pulls on his cloak and Harry takes the moment to shake himself. It's been ten years, and he still has these feelings. this attraction...it isn't right.
And Sirius is still in love. with a ghost.
~
they walk in the crips night air to their local. it's a muggle pub, but Jiffney, the night bartender, is a waizard and keeps an eye on them, sends a subtle notice-me-not if Sirius or Harry get too drunk and make a slip. (Pretend this makes sense cause even drunk it doesn't really, I don't think?)
A full moon peeks out from te clouds, brightening thesky. it's beatiful. but harry keeps the thought to himself.
the pub is mostly full when they arrive, a game plays on th e telly, but the sound is dorwned out by rauchus lughter and the chatter from the crowd. But as they push there way through, Harry spies their corner table, miracuriously empty. He catches the bartender's eye, he he shoots Harry a smile. Jiefney's a good man, always saving them a seat. though Harry much prefers the ngihts where the pub is empty, and it's just him Sn Sirius, and maybe a few scattered people. It's soalmost peaceful those nights.
He nearly puts up a privacy spell to drown out the noise while he's still sober enough to manage it, but stops short of drawing his wand. Maybe the noise will be good for Sirius. maybe tonight will be better.
"First round's on me. Whatta having?" Harry says.
"Whiskey," Sirius replies. "Always whiskey."
They drink a few rounds. HSirus asks him abou t work. Asks him about girls. (Theere are never any girls.) Asks after Ron and Hermione. Goes on a tireade about the Ministry. "Best thing you ever did, not joining up," he says. He always says this. "you'd have bmade a good Auror, but it's shite. The Ministry is shite."
Then he goes quiet. Sips his whiskey--the fifth maybe or perhaps his sixth. Harry's lost count. His eyes drift off and he mutters something Harry can't make out over the nose. Harry scouts his chair closer, slides his hand over his godfather's. He squeezs.
"I know you miss him," Harry says, loud enough to break through thedin, but soft enough so Sirius can pretend he didn't hear him, if whe wants.
But sirius surprises him. “I do.” He says. His lips pull into a grimace. “But I miss you more.”
Harry wants to ask, but sirius pulls away. He leans back in his chair, scrubs his fcae with a palm. “Fuck , I;n ht. It’s fucking ht, isn’t it? “ He pulls on his t0shirt like he means to take it off and Hard quickly grabs his hands, lowers it, smooths it down over his stomach. He’s just drink enough to let himself linger. But that little nagging guilt is there, always, and Sirius roars out “Too many goddamn people here. Blody fuc,” and that snaps Harry out of his daze.
“Let’s go then. Get some hair. We ‘ve got whisky. At home.”
“Bloody right we do,” Sirius says. And just like that, he’s grinning again, jumping from his chair, wobbling a little, but ending up mostly upright. “Come on, lazy begger”
-
They stumble out into the night. Te moon seems bright., the air mcrips and much cooler, but hair keeps his jacket off, enjoying the breeze against his skin. The manage mostly, though harry pulls Sirius back from the curb one or two times, though he hasn’t seen a car since they left. Sirius smiles at him. “Always taking care of me, aren’t ya?”
Harry shrugs. “We take care of each other.”
“Yea,” sirius says. ‘Yeah.” He grab s Harry’s hand. His thumb traces the outline of Harry’s palm . Harry reminds himself to breathe. They’re almost ome. Almost. And he can pour Sirius into bed before stumbling to his own room and then this night..this night will be over. It’s been on e of the good ones, harry thinks. Maybe sirius is feeling…better.
“You remember that night in the Astronomy tower? “ Sirius is going gazing at the sky, gazing at the moon. His tumble still wearing a path against Harry’s kin . Harry braces himself.
“What night?”
“Fuck off, you know,” Sirius says. He looks angry as his gaze whips to Harry but it softens in the blink of an eye. “Oh fuck you, Prongs.” Sirius lets out a laugh. It’s harsh but warm somehow, and a little part of Harry enjoys it just a little too much. But before he can properly padrunkingly berate himself, Sirius pulls him into an alley. He pushes Harry into a brick building, not hard, but insistent. His grey eyes glint in a sliver of moonlight.
“You’re all grown up, now. I never got to—“
Sirius , Harry says with as much sharpness and his drunk tongue can master. “I’m Harry, Sirius, Harry, ames and Lily’s on.”
“I know that,” sieve barks. “You’re just…”
“Yeah. I know. “
Sirius lets go of Harry, backs up a couple of steps, scrubs a hand over his eyes.
“What happened? On the Astronomy tower? “ Harry knows he shouldn’t ask, but he can’t hep himself. Sirius never talks about his parents anymore. Nit after Remus died. Only sometimes, on nights like tonight, on a full moon with when drink has loosened his tongue, sometimes Sirius will let himself slip, and Harry’s too starved for these moments, too drunk to stop himself.
Sirius closes his eyes. He pulls back his hair, holds it behind his head and sighs.
“It was almost a full moon. Moony was too keyed up and took dreamless to sleep, an d fuck knew where worm tail was. It was just us. “ Sirius opens hies eyes and his gaze is piercing. “You remember, I know you do.”
Harry can’t speak. Can’t bring himself to correct Sirius again.
“For once, you weren’t mooning over Lly. Fr once, all your attention was on me. I should’ve told you.” Sirius steps closer. He ups Harry’s aw, thumb sweeping up over his cheekbone. All the breath bottles in Harry’s chest. Sirius’ voice goes quiet and everything is so very still. “I should’ve on kissed you.”
“Remus…” Harry manages to whisper.
“I love Remus. I’ll always love Remus. Bt you…you’re the other half of my soul.”
Sirius comes closer, so close and it all happens so fast. His hand wraps around Harry’s neck and he pulls and there is no resistance, no fucking way, because Sirius is going to kiss him, and then he is—he kisses the breath from him, like he’s trying to swallow Harry whole.
Stop you should stop, you should stop. But when Harry brings his hands to Sirius’ chest, all he can do is curl his fingers into his t-shirt and hold on.
When he pulls away, Sirius’ eyes are glittering. Harry’s hard and throbbing and Sirius looks down between them and grins. He shoves Harry’s thighs open with a knew, and his hands instantly go to Harry’s jeans to pry open the button of his fly. “Fic, if Id known you’d be this easy I’d have done this ages ago,” he teases. A jitney of curses run through Harry’s head—he’s going to hell for this—he can’t let Sirius do this, not when—
But Sirius works a hand into his jeans and beneath his pants. HIs fingers find Harry’s cock and he wraps a fist around it. And Harry’s lost. He gives in. And Sirius starts to stroke.
Sirius presses his groin to Harry’s thigh and rocs his hips to rhythm of his strokes. His head drops to Harry’s shoulder, pressed into the nape of his neck, and stubble rakes against Harry’s skin.
It’s everything Harry could want—it’s nothing like h’e d every imagined in the darkness of his room, dick in hand, hidden under covers. He imagined Sirius would be rough, would bend him over, take him from behind. He imagined Sirius would go slow, inch inside of him so very slow until Harry was sobbing, begging—This is just a quick hand job in a leey. Dirty, fast, full of grunts and Sirius’ growls. Quick strokes within the confines of Harry’s pants. The hot slide of Sirius’ prick against his thigh, separated by too many layers. And as his breath comes short and heat flashes over his thighs, Harry knows it’ll be over all too quickly.
But somehow, it’sperfct.
Sirius kisses his neck, scrapes his teeth against skin, and suddenly Harry can’t hold back; he comes all over Sirius hands, the inside of his pants— he feels it splash a little against his belly.
“That’s my boy,” Sirius whispers. He eases free from Harry’s pants, grabs into Harry’s hips and starts bucking even faster against him. “Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He presses his face into Harry’s neck and sizes up—they both go still for a single breathtaking moment, and then he lets out a gasp, harsh and hot against Harry’s skin and sags against him.
~
Harry somehow manages to gpit his clothes right, everything tucked away and buttoned up, but still sticky. He dsn’t trust himself with wa wand right now. Least of all pointe d at his bits.
Sirius is leaning against the brick wall; he ’s pulled a crumpled cigarettes pack from his jeans and smokes, watching the smoke dissipate into the air. But his eyes f a bit vacncat. Harry swallows back the words, swallows back his questions. They’d all come out in a pujumple anyway, and…he’s not sure he really wants the answers.
Two more blocks to their home; two more block of silence. Sirius stubs out his fag on the pvavvenbt. When he stumbles on the stair s heading to the for, Harry steadies him with a hand on his back.
“Always taking care of me, aren’t ya?”
Guilt floods Harry, seeps through his veins, fills his heart an tightens it in a knot. But he manages a breath. He manages a smile. “We take care of each other.”
Author:
sdk boom!I am of legal drinking age in my region: (yes/no) you betcha your ass!
Pairing(s)/Characters/Fandom: Sirius/Harry, past Sirius/Remus, unrequited Sirius/James
Challenge: full moons, I think. Oh and yes, the birthday boy!! Sirius Black! Nad I think I mentioned the astronomy tower, and I know the quote which ai am stop lazy to look at right now inspired me, but idk. Can’t remember exactly what’ s going on hers.
Summary: Sirius and Harry have a ritual. Things goes a little differently this time round.
Rating/Warnings: Rish—like hard r. Like I haycock. Not for kiddies!!! // Warnings. Are like frotting and hand jobs and just messed up stuff that probably doesn’t make sense? Aoh and dub-con, most definitely. But everyone’s of age.
Word count: 2K or something.
Author's Notes (if any): fuck me, I’m drunk. Oh and it’s probably important to note that Sirius lived and Remus died, like I know he died in canon, but this is AU clearly so not the same way though I don’t think I explain any of that. And Harry and Sirius share Grimmmaald Place. And Idk if I mentioned that either.
Harry waits at the foot of the stairs. The sun has just set, and he knows any second now--
A door creaks ipen and a moment later, Sirius emerges at the top of the stairs. He's all smiles. He always is. They nevr reach his eyes. But Harry pretends. He knows that's what Sirius would want, after all.
He smiles back. "Pub?"
"Yeah, if you don't have plans..."
"All yours," Harry says. He never makes plans on this night. Or rather, he onl y has one plan.
Sirius binds down the stairs like a man half his age. He really isn't old, though his stint in Azkaban aged him far more than he should look. Still, Harry likes the wrinksles around Sirius' eyes, the way he fills out his ratty black tee and holey jeans, the strands of grey slithering through the black waves of his hair.
Sirius pulls on his cloak and Harry takes the moment to shake himself. It's been ten years, and he still has these feelings. this attraction...it isn't right.
And Sirius is still in love. with a ghost.
~
they walk in the crips night air to their local. it's a muggle pub, but Jiffney, the night bartender, is a waizard and keeps an eye on them, sends a subtle notice-me-not if Sirius or Harry get too drunk and make a slip. (Pretend this makes sense cause even drunk it doesn't really, I don't think?)
A full moon peeks out from te clouds, brightening thesky. it's beatiful. but harry keeps the thought to himself.
the pub is mostly full when they arrive, a game plays on th e telly, but the sound is dorwned out by rauchus lughter and the chatter from the crowd. But as they push there way through, Harry spies their corner table, miracuriously empty. He catches the bartender's eye, he he shoots Harry a smile. Jiefney's a good man, always saving them a seat. though Harry much prefers the ngihts where the pub is empty, and it's just him Sn Sirius, and maybe a few scattered people. It's soalmost peaceful those nights.
He nearly puts up a privacy spell to drown out the noise while he's still sober enough to manage it, but stops short of drawing his wand. Maybe the noise will be good for Sirius. maybe tonight will be better.
"First round's on me. Whatta having?" Harry says.
"Whiskey," Sirius replies. "Always whiskey."
They drink a few rounds. HSirus asks him abou t work. Asks him about girls. (Theere are never any girls.) Asks after Ron and Hermione. Goes on a tireade about the Ministry. "Best thing you ever did, not joining up," he says. He always says this. "you'd have bmade a good Auror, but it's shite. The Ministry is shite."
Then he goes quiet. Sips his whiskey--the fifth maybe or perhaps his sixth. Harry's lost count. His eyes drift off and he mutters something Harry can't make out over the nose. Harry scouts his chair closer, slides his hand over his godfather's. He squeezs.
"I know you miss him," Harry says, loud enough to break through thedin, but soft enough so Sirius can pretend he didn't hear him, if whe wants.
But sirius surprises him. “I do.” He says. His lips pull into a grimace. “But I miss you more.”
Harry wants to ask, but sirius pulls away. He leans back in his chair, scrubs his fcae with a palm. “Fuck , I;n ht. It’s fucking ht, isn’t it? “ He pulls on his t0shirt like he means to take it off and Hard quickly grabs his hands, lowers it, smooths it down over his stomach. He’s just drink enough to let himself linger. But that little nagging guilt is there, always, and Sirius roars out “Too many goddamn people here. Blody fuc,” and that snaps Harry out of his daze.
“Let’s go then. Get some hair. We ‘ve got whisky. At home.”
“Bloody right we do,” Sirius says. And just like that, he’s grinning again, jumping from his chair, wobbling a little, but ending up mostly upright. “Come on, lazy begger”
-
They stumble out into the night. Te moon seems bright., the air mcrips and much cooler, but hair keeps his jacket off, enjoying the breeze against his skin. The manage mostly, though harry pulls Sirius back from the curb one or two times, though he hasn’t seen a car since they left. Sirius smiles at him. “Always taking care of me, aren’t ya?”
Harry shrugs. “We take care of each other.”
“Yea,” sirius says. ‘Yeah.” He grab s Harry’s hand. His thumb traces the outline of Harry’s palm . Harry reminds himself to breathe. They’re almost ome. Almost. And he can pour Sirius into bed before stumbling to his own room and then this night..this night will be over. It’s been on e of the good ones, harry thinks. Maybe sirius is feeling…better.
“You remember that night in the Astronomy tower? “ Sirius is going gazing at the sky, gazing at the moon. His tumble still wearing a path against Harry’s kin . Harry braces himself.
“What night?”
“Fuck off, you know,” Sirius says. He looks angry as his gaze whips to Harry but it softens in the blink of an eye. “Oh fuck you, Prongs.” Sirius lets out a laugh. It’s harsh but warm somehow, and a little part of Harry enjoys it just a little too much. But before he can properly padrunkingly berate himself, Sirius pulls him into an alley. He pushes Harry into a brick building, not hard, but insistent. His grey eyes glint in a sliver of moonlight.
“You’re all grown up, now. I never got to—“
Sirius , Harry says with as much sharpness and his drunk tongue can master. “I’m Harry, Sirius, Harry, ames and Lily’s on.”
“I know that,” sieve barks. “You’re just…”
“Yeah. I know. “
Sirius lets go of Harry, backs up a couple of steps, scrubs a hand over his eyes.
“What happened? On the Astronomy tower? “ Harry knows he shouldn’t ask, but he can’t hep himself. Sirius never talks about his parents anymore. Nit after Remus died. Only sometimes, on nights like tonight, on a full moon with when drink has loosened his tongue, sometimes Sirius will let himself slip, and Harry’s too starved for these moments, too drunk to stop himself.
Sirius closes his eyes. He pulls back his hair, holds it behind his head and sighs.
“It was almost a full moon. Moony was too keyed up and took dreamless to sleep, an d fuck knew where worm tail was. It was just us. “ Sirius opens hies eyes and his gaze is piercing. “You remember, I know you do.”
Harry can’t speak. Can’t bring himself to correct Sirius again.
“For once, you weren’t mooning over Lly. Fr once, all your attention was on me. I should’ve told you.” Sirius steps closer. He ups Harry’s aw, thumb sweeping up over his cheekbone. All the breath bottles in Harry’s chest. Sirius’ voice goes quiet and everything is so very still. “I should’ve on kissed you.”
“Remus…” Harry manages to whisper.
“I love Remus. I’ll always love Remus. Bt you…you’re the other half of my soul.”
Sirius comes closer, so close and it all happens so fast. His hand wraps around Harry’s neck and he pulls and there is no resistance, no fucking way, because Sirius is going to kiss him, and then he is—he kisses the breath from him, like he’s trying to swallow Harry whole.
Stop you should stop, you should stop. But when Harry brings his hands to Sirius’ chest, all he can do is curl his fingers into his t-shirt and hold on.
When he pulls away, Sirius’ eyes are glittering. Harry’s hard and throbbing and Sirius looks down between them and grins. He shoves Harry’s thighs open with a knew, and his hands instantly go to Harry’s jeans to pry open the button of his fly. “Fic, if Id known you’d be this easy I’d have done this ages ago,” he teases. A jitney of curses run through Harry’s head—he’s going to hell for this—he can’t let Sirius do this, not when—
But Sirius works a hand into his jeans and beneath his pants. HIs fingers find Harry’s cock and he wraps a fist around it. And Harry’s lost. He gives in. And Sirius starts to stroke.
Sirius presses his groin to Harry’s thigh and rocs his hips to rhythm of his strokes. His head drops to Harry’s shoulder, pressed into the nape of his neck, and stubble rakes against Harry’s skin.
It’s everything Harry could want—it’s nothing like h’e d every imagined in the darkness of his room, dick in hand, hidden under covers. He imagined Sirius would be rough, would bend him over, take him from behind. He imagined Sirius would go slow, inch inside of him so very slow until Harry was sobbing, begging—This is just a quick hand job in a leey. Dirty, fast, full of grunts and Sirius’ growls. Quick strokes within the confines of Harry’s pants. The hot slide of Sirius’ prick against his thigh, separated by too many layers. And as his breath comes short and heat flashes over his thighs, Harry knows it’ll be over all too quickly.
But somehow, it’sperfct.
Sirius kisses his neck, scrapes his teeth against skin, and suddenly Harry can’t hold back; he comes all over Sirius hands, the inside of his pants— he feels it splash a little against his belly.
“That’s my boy,” Sirius whispers. He eases free from Harry’s pants, grabs into Harry’s hips and starts bucking even faster against him. “Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He presses his face into Harry’s neck and sizes up—they both go still for a single breathtaking moment, and then he lets out a gasp, harsh and hot against Harry’s skin and sags against him.
~
Harry somehow manages to gpit his clothes right, everything tucked away and buttoned up, but still sticky. He dsn’t trust himself with wa wand right now. Least of all pointe d at his bits.
Sirius is leaning against the brick wall; he ’s pulled a crumpled cigarettes pack from his jeans and smokes, watching the smoke dissipate into the air. But his eyes f a bit vacncat. Harry swallows back the words, swallows back his questions. They’d all come out in a pujumple anyway, and…he’s not sure he really wants the answers.
Two more blocks to their home; two more block of silence. Sirius stubs out his fag on the pvavvenbt. When he stumbles on the stair s heading to the for, Harry steadies him with a hand on his back.
“Always taking care of me, aren’t ya?”
Guilt floods Harry, seeps through his veins, fills his heart an tightens it in a knot. But he manages a breath. He manages a smile. “We take care of each other.”