Log in

No account? Create an account

fingers whispering sound

sirius/harry and other perversions

Previous Entry Share Next Entry
Porn Sunday: "Turning Corners", Sirius/Remus/Harry, NC-17
Title: Turning Corners
Author: [personal profile] phoenixtears
Pairing: Sirius/Remus/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2,000
Prompt by [personal profile] shellydkitty -- "things a boy should know". Thank you for that!
Warnings: Bestiality, including werewolf sex; Possibly Underage (I left it vague); Godfather/Godson.
Summary: In which things are AU and there doesn't exist a potion to help Remus and Sirius has been caring for him all these years and Harry demands to learn how to help.
Notes: This was written for [personal profile] torino10154's Porn Sunday! \o/ Big thank you to [personal profile] elrhiarhodan for reading this and telling me how much she loved it. I was nervous to post such unrestrained wrongness, but apparently it's the right kind of wrong.

It wasn’t Remus’s choice to be like this, and that was what everybody had to remember. Sirius had woken with more than scratches – with gashes – many mornings, despite the calm that set in for Remus when he was around, when it happened, when it was time.

Now that they were older, now that Sirius was free, now that Sirius had Harry to protect and Remus, too, everything was worse. And better.

The first time Sirius took Harry to the Shrieking Shack was during the last night of the moon, when the fight was almost all out of him, and he lay panting in a corner in a shaft of moonlight, unable to do more than growl and whine.

Harry had said, “Take me there,” and Sirius was a slave to the boy’s whims. They’d stood in the dark, listening to the werewolf grunting.

Harry, fearless -- and Sirius should have known he would be -- walked over, crouched, and stroked the werewolf’s head. Sirius watched what passed between them, and he heard Harry say, “I want to learn to take care of him.”

Just like that.


Wise and efficient.

“You’re sure,” Sirius had said. He had shown Harry the marks. He had explained what he sometimes had to do.

“I’m sure,” Harry said, and Remus’s large head had butted Harry’s hand for more.

It was supposed to start with Harry watching.

Sirius had cornered the beast, his arms out, and he yelled, “Remus! Settle, Remus!” He approached slowly, as though to an unbroken horse, and Remus drooled and snarled, ready to spring. It always took time to approach, but Sirius knew how to take his time.

He couldn’t explain the thrill that now worked its way through his body, the force of the pull towards the thing, the way he wanted and despised it, both. But with a cautious look at Harry, standing to the side, taking it all in, Sirius saw that he must understand. He had the light of more than the moon in his eyes.

Sirius didn’t know if he wanted his godson to see this – to be a part of it.

He knew what he was breaking in order to do this in front of him. But that thing -- that precious, fragile thing -- had been in the process of breaking for months, ever since Harry had walked in on them, on the bed, Sirius inside Remus from behind, fast, near the end. How their eyes had met, and how Sirius had known he should stop, but how he hadn’t.

And then how Harry simply hadn’t left. He’d watched his own godfather come inside another man, inside Remus, an innocent look of curiosity and arousal on his flushed face.

Things could not go back.

Sirius could not undo it. He could not deny, though he never said, that it had been all the better for his presence. That, his gaze locked with Harry’s, he had come harder than he’d thought possible.

The shame was deep and horrible, but then Harry had walked into the room, and his eyes held something like compassion as he came close to Remus whose head was bowed, his hair sweaty, Sirius still inside him, and Harry, standing at the foot of the bed, had cast his fingers over Remus’s face. Remus had lifted his eyes, and Harry had slowly undone his pants, giving them all time to stop it, but Sirius, whose job it was to stop it, didn’t, and Harry had fed Remus his hard cock, with that look of compassionate curiosity still on his face, his fingers still tracing the line of Remus’s jaw. Remus had sucked him in almost gratefully. And then Harry had lifted his gaze and found Sirius. And he had begun to thrust.

Sirius remembered pulling out of Remus, transfixed in Harry’s easy gaze. Remembered drawing close to Harry whose dick was deep in Remus’s mouth, how he’d reached out to touch him and found that he couldn’t, and how Harry had had to reach for *him*, to curl his hand around the base of his neck and make Sirius kiss him.

That was all they had ever done. As if that made it all right. As if they could both have Remus, together -- and they had -- and if they just didn’t touch each other with anything but their mouths, their wet mouths, their sighing breaths, then it wasn’t wrong. Harry could come with Sirius kissing him, and it wasn’t wrong.

Sirius now cornered the animal his friend had become, his breathing slow and even. The room smelled like sweat and blood. Remus had probably bitten himself again. He growled, low in his throat, half standing, and Sirius saw the large erection between the thing’s legs, already dripping so badly there was a puddle of it on the floor. Ready for him.

“Easy,” Sirius said. Then to Harry, “Stay back for now.” And again, “Eeeeeeeasy…”

And then he was close enough to touch him, and though the werewolf’s teeth were gnashed and his eyes furious, he let Sirius reach for his slobbering cock. Sirius looked into the deep eyes and found something of his friend there – just the hint of that kind and beautiful person. “Shhh,” he crooned. “I’ve got you…. I’ve got you….”

And then he wrapped his hand around the werewolf’s cock. It thrashed for a moment, and Sirius felt the chilling blur of claws against his ribs. But Remus had regained enough of himself to hold it back. There was barely any blood at all. And Sirius shushed him again and started to stroke. Long, even strokes up and down the massive cock. “That’s it. We’ll get you through this.” Then, “I brought a friend.”

The werewolf whined at the touch and then sniffed the air. It turned its face to the shadows in which Harry hid. Harry stepped out of them just an inch, his glasses reflecting the moon.

“Not yet,” Sirius warned, and Remus growled. “Easy,” Sirius chided. He stroked harder, pulled on it, got Remus’s attention back. “That’s my godson, your friend, and you’re not going to hurt him. Do you hear me? You’re not going to hurt him. He’s here out of the goodness of his heart. Do you hear me, Remus?”

The werewolf let out a small, lonesome howl.

“That’s a boy,” Sirius crooned, and then he tugged on the glistening head. “I’m going to take care of you. We’re going to take care of you.” And then he motioned for Harry to join him. “Slowly,” Sirius said. He was shamefully hard, and he throbbed with every step Harry took.

When Harry was right there, so close Sirius could feel his breath on his shoulder, he whispered to Harry, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Harry said, staring into the thing’s eyes.

Sirius swallowed. “Then get to your knees. He needs to be sucked.”

Harry sank to his knees in front of it; he inhaled it. Sirius’s blood sang when Harry opened his mouth for it, and he angled it toward his godson’s mouth and slipped it inside. Harry began sucking on the head, and Remus panted in Sirius’s face.

“Is that good?” Sirius asked the beast softly. “Is that better?”

Remus whined and whimpered, and Sirius looked down to watch Harry take it deeper. He stroked his fist down the length toward Harry’s distended lips, milking it for him, and then once, for just for a second, he felt Harry’s lips kiss his hand. Burned, Sirius let go of the werewolf’s cock, the thing firmly lodged in Harry’s mouth now. He began unfastening his own pants. He told himself he would just stroke it against the strong, hairy leg. Remus was used to him needing to take his own satisfaction in it somehow.

Sirius was used to telling himself lies.

He fumbled it out, and he pulled on it, and he watched Harry. Harry suckled, his lashes against his cheeks. He was breathing erratically, through his nose, and Sirius caught a whiff of the pungent pre-come himself. Before he knew it, he had touched the tip to Harry’s hollowed-out cheek. Harry inhaled, and his eyelids fluttered. And then, wordlessly, he left off the cock in his mouth – he began stroking it in his hand, and he turned his face to Sirius’s cock, and in a breath, the fragile thing broke, and he’d taken Sirius in his mouth, and he was sucking him and jacking Remus, there on his knees in the dark.

Remus howled, and Sirius whispered, “That’s it. God, that’s it,” nearly incoherent with need. Harry’s mouth was sweet as innocence itself, brilliant and soft and intent. But then he’d switched again and gone back to the werewolf cock, yet he was unbuttoning his own trousers, trying to pull them down. Sirius got around behind him, and he knelt behind the boy. He tugged his pants down around his thighs, baring his pale bottom, and he could hear the sucking noises and the little mewls of pleasure from Harry and the grunting of the beast. Sirius aimed his cock at the small, neat hole, and he mounted Harry, entering him with a single, fierce thrust from behind.

Sirius groaned, and he rode slowly, in and out of the silken sheath. He moved Harry on Remus’s thick cock under the blazing moon.

The pace was excruciating, but Sirius waited until he heard the change in Remus’s whimpering, then he began to enthusiastically fuck Harry’s beautiful ass, pulling him back onto it, provoking a low moan from his godson’s throat, and then the werewolf was coming, and Harry gagged and tried to swallow, but most of it probably ended up on the ground, and Remus howled so hard that it went out into the night, probably all the way to Hogwarts; it echoed through the room.

When he was done, he slumped into his corner, panting again; he curled up into a half-human ball, his eyelids drooping, finally succumbing to the stupor Sirius sought to give him every month.

He left Sirius alone with Harry. In Harry. And Harry committed an unchangeable sin: he said Sirius’s name.

“Sirius… Oh God, Sirius.” And then worse, “Padfoot. Please…”

Sirius groaned, and as if the request had been a charm, he turned. Then he was in Harry, and he was locked, and he couldn’t stop until he’d come. And the boy smelled so bloody good! He fucked fast, the only way he knew how in this body, and Harry spread his knees, opening himself for it. He wailed with pleasure and came on the ground, Padfoot’s cock still pumping in him.

Padfoot came, and he whimpered. It lasted a long time, but when he was finally able to slip free, he changed back to his human self and sat there catching his breath, his eyes closed against what he had just done.

But when he opened them, what he saw was his friend, his Remus, changed as well, shivering naked in the corner. And Harry. Harry had crawled to him and was snuggled up against him, rocking him, telling him it was all right.

Harry lifted his face and looked at Sirius. He blinked. He was smiling – a reassurance -- of all things, gratitude. Gratitude. He held out his hand to Sirius, beckoning him. Sirius crawled across the floor, close. Harry wrapped his hand around the back of Sirius’s head. He pulled him into a warm kiss, entering Sirius’s mouth with his musky tongue.

Harry pulled back and said, “Neither one of us needs your guilt. We need your love. We need to love you.”

Sirius moved closer. He wrapped his arms around his best friend and his godson, and he held them. Remus reached out a trembling hand and caught a weak grip on his arm. Harry leaned his head on Sirius’s shoulder.

It wasn’t at all right. But it had to be.

  • 1
I love this so much, bb, that I spent the morning online stalking you just so I can comment on it <333

Like I said before: so filthy and oddly tender and just amazing!


Thank you! About the "oddly tender" -- that's sort of trademark for me. Everything I write, even the dirtiest, nastiest smut, is going to ultimately be about love 95% of the time. ;-)

Thanks so much for reading and friending! I look forward to reading more of your work, too. Do you post or at least link to DW? I suck at IJ!

LOL! See? I didn't even know you'd replied in LJ instead of DW. It had logged me out, and I kept trying to log back in without the 777 and it kept telling me I was wrong and I had a throw-the-laptop-into-the-ocean moment. ;-)

In my day, people just had one dang journal. That's not true. In my day, we shared fic in Yahoo groups. I'm just one generation past sending hardcopy in the mail.

  • 1