housewarming

Title: Housewarming
Rating: NC17
Warnings: sensory deprivation (blindfold), felching
Summary: Remus wants to show Severus something. PWP, folks, there's only one thing deep here….
Author's note: Written for schemingreader for her birthday.

"To do this properly," Remus said, as one hand slid up Severus' chest, "I ought to be able to surprise you."

"See me, you mean," Severus said, and once again his words seemed to be weightier without being able to judge their impact by Remus' face. He reached up until his hand connected with flesh, and let his fingers roam until he knew where he was, stroking Remus just below the shoulder.

"Mm," Remus said, shifting. "That tickles." Severus slid his hand along Remus' neck to his chin, clean-shaven but still ghosted with stubble, and then up around to the curve of his lips. Beneath the pads of his fingers he felt the tautness of a smile, and then the flick of a tongue. He always felt exposed when Remus touched his face; he wondered now how often Remus restrained himself from touching. "It doesn't bother you?"

Remus' fingers landed with uncanny accuracy at Severus' temple and traced the edge of the blindfold so lightly that Severus felt a chill go down his back. His skin was coming alive, he was aware of warmth, of proximity, of the summer sun trapped in the sheets and the autumn promised by the air. Of Remus, naked and unseen above him in a room that he knew was light. He could nearly feel the angle of the sunlight as it spilled over the bed through the great southern windows that opened onto the balcony. He could nearly hear the wind in the trees as night was driven upon them, inexorably. He nearly knew all this, but in the darkness Remus was his sun and his pole star and his anchor against going adrift.

"It's… different," Remus said, and Severus didn't know if he meant different to Remus' own blindness (of course it was–it was both voluntary and temporary) or that sensations were different (stronger, unpredictable, sensual). "Let me know if you want to stop." His mouth met the base of Severus' neck and he bit, lightly, enough to make Severus see sparks–feel sparks.

"Don't stop that," Severus said, hands seeking and finding Remus' waist. Beneath his hands he felt muscles contract, but couldn't translate their meaning fast enough. Remus' hand found one nipple and toyed with it even as his mouth traced a trail from neck to other nipple. Severus spread his hands wide, holding Remus to him as he wrapped his legs around Remus' and rolled, trusting that Remus' acquiescence meant that he was not rolling them towards the drop from the edge of the bed.

Bodies pressed together, he was on familiar territory. He shifted so that his cock lay alongside Remus' and rocked slowly, just enough friction to make Remus swear beneath him. He knew what Remus' face would look like, but as he bent to kiss his panting mouth he learnt new things: the sound of his breathing, of Remus', and how their irregularities intertwined; the taste of sweat; the smells of soap on the wind-blown sheets; the points of touch and pressure that moved as Remus writhed beneath him. Remus bit Severus' lip and thrust up against him.

"Want you," Remus said, cheek pressed up against Severus' and words accompanied by hot breath against his ear; who was Severus to complain?

Severus summoned the lube, and heard the sharp intake of Remus' breath. He smiled, wickedly. The one disadvantage to magically-produced lubricant was that it tasted of either candy-floss or cheese (or, hideously, both, if the seventh syllable of the spell were mispronounced). Severus had, in the absence of his private laboratory, taken to purchasing a flavourless American lube, which was incidentally fortified with seven different vitamins and minerals. This fascinated him, and should a lull occur in any given conversation he was likely to work this fact in, much to Remus' horror.

Severus slicked his fingers with his nutritious and edible lube and slid his hand over and between Remus' legs, shifting to the side so that Remus had one leg trapped and the other free to slide against the sheets in frustration as Severus pressed into him with two fingers. The blindfold allowed him to concentrate on what he was doing without the distractions he was sure were taking place: Remus' bottom lip caught between teeth, the jump of his cock, the arch of his leg and the curl of his toes. Severus was aware of heat, tight and soft, as he twisted his hand, and he looked for Remus' mouth, found it, and matched the rhythm with thrusts of his tongue.

Remus' hands tangled in his hair, overly careful not to dislodge the blindfold; this was where kisses became sloppy and desperate, where sucking and biting had to be interrupted by the need to breathe, to pant, to swear or beg or make mad declarations of love. Remus was trying to say several things at once and not succeeding with any of them, but Severus got the jist. Remus whimpered as he pulled his hand back and hissed "you have got to be kidding" when Severus found he couldn't find the lube again, but then he had it and Remus had the pillow and all was right with the world. Severus slicked his cock and took Remus slow and inexorable as the waxing of the moon.

Severus groped out and found Remus' hands, weaving their fingers together. Remus never protested or said if he hurt, but Severus knew his hands couldn't lie. Remus squeezed, slightly, rolled his hips, took in another inch and Severus felt the tremors that went through him (you're too damn big Remus would complain afterwards, but he was the one who could never get enough). He thrust once in warning–brace yourself–and Remus' hands pulled loose. Severus knew from the arch of his body that his palms were against the wall, and he did so hate to disappoint. He began moving, out and in, driving against Remus like–metaphors failed–like sex. Really, really good sex.

It was when Remus' breathing became ragged and his hips started to miss the rhythm that Severus realised what he would be missing. "Let me see you come," he said, leaning forward to lick Remus' lips, and Remus shuddered around him.

"No," Remus said.

"Then you can wait," Severus said, and avoided the snap of Remus' teeth. Remus' hands found purchase on his arse, and Severus let himself go. He couldn't help picturing Remus' face as he moved hard and fast towards orgasm; when he came, his whole body tensing hard, his mouth stretched in a grimace no one ever saw, he saw stars against the black silk.

He allowed himself a brief respite, panting, before pulling back and flipping Remus. He licked the sweat from Remus' back, and then moved down even as he yanked Remus' hips up. Remus said something entirely unintelligible. Severus used both hands to spread his arse open and licked straight down to find the spot where the salt tang of sweat became that of semen (thank the gods for clever American lube, Severus thought. All this and vitamins, too).

Remus moaned as he circled the muscles of his anus with his tongue, and cried out as Severus' mouth came down, all sucking pressure, and his tongue retraced the path his cock had slicked. Severus slid one hand down over Remus' hip and found the swollen weight of Remus' cock. Remus shook uncontrollably, thrusting forward into Severus' hand and then back onto his tongue, and then his cock jumped and he cried out, something that sounded almost like a prayer. Severus gave his arse one last good lick and then slid up, pulling Remus to the side out of the wet spot and spooning behind him. Beneath his hands he could feel Remus' chest rise and fall as if he'd been running; the hair against his face was wet.

"You've killed me," Remus said finally, breathlessness making his voice deeper and hoarser than usual.

"I need a shower," Severus said, not moving at all. Remus turned in his arms, reached up and tugged the blindfold off. He reached over Severus to drop it off the edge of the bed and then settled back, pillowing his head on Severus' arm. The room was awash with the last of the sunlight, painting Remus' skin gold and setting his hair ablaze. Severus reached up with his free hand and stroked the backs of his knuckles across Remus' cheek. Remus smiled, lazily.

"Go on, then." He reached out to slide an arm around Severus' waist. "I've been completely immobilised, but don't let me stop you." Remus shifted his head to a less bony spot and shut his eyes. "Was it strange for you?"

"It was supposed to be strange. Rather like you and the feathers."

Remus shivered, slightly. "I'm still working up my nerve to try that again."

"I enjoy watching you."

"I enjoy being watched," Remus said, and bit back a yawn. "Oops, I'm falling asleep."

"You romantic, you," Severus said. Remus smiled and sighed and settled against Severus' chest. The sunset in the western window lit the clouds pink and blue. Severus could picture angels ascending, golden skinned and incandescent. It was a horribly predictable backdrop for expressions of love and tender feelings, but he supposed if he didn't tell Remus about the celestial wonders he might be safe from mockery. "I love you," he said, and ran his fingers through Remus' hair; but Remus was asleep.

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