A Holiday for Memories
I don't own them, J.K. Rowling does, and Sirius Black is too amusing a character to be dead. So I'm pretending he isn't. That is all. NC-17 for sexual activity, het and slash. Go away if that's not your thing.
Remus surfaced from his work and realized the beeping on the other side
of
the study meant it was time to go fix lunch. He always set an alarm,
otherwise he'd work right through. His stomach growled in agreement
with the
clock, having found that he wasn't somewhere in a cheiromantic text and
might actually listen to it. He made sandwiches and grabbed some crisps
and
some pickles out of the icebox, and two beers, and took them out to the
garden, the last place he'd seen their houseguest. It took him a moment
to maneuver tray and door, and then he looked up and only the realization
that
it would be damn difficult to explain why he'd dropped it kept it in
his
hands.
When had Hermione....grown up?
Oh, intellectually, he knew it. And certainly he'd sniggered with Harry
earlier that week about her blushing when she came downstairs late,
with
that I've‑spent‑all‑night‑shagging look about her. But...somehow
knowing
that she was reading maths and knowing she and Ron were sleeping
together
(when they weren't rowing like cat and dog) hadn't prepared him for
what she
looked like in a bikini, hair loose about her face, book fallen slack
from
her hand when she fell asleep in the warm summer sun.
His eye traveled appreciatively over the high, full curve of her
breasts,
the curve of her waist, her hips, her belly, and the long, lean lines of
leg,
gleaming faintly with sun potion in the light. As he'd explained to
Harry
once when he asked for romantic advice, it wasn't that Sirius and he
didn't
like girls...they did. It was just that they liked each other more.
Somehow,
when Harry had wanted to invite his friends to come and stay while he
was on
leave, he hadn't expected this. No one had been happy when the owl came
calling Ron and Harry both back to duty, but they'd prevailed on
Hermione to
stay and finish out her holiday. She'd needed one...her doctoral
studies in Mathematics and Arithmancy jointly had left her drawn and pale.
He gave a long sigh and set the tray down on the garden table, then
crossed
over to her blanket and shook her shoulder. She woke with a sleepy
murmur and a soft smile. "That looks divine, thank you, Remus," she said,
shaking
her head and yawning.
"It's no trouble," he said. "I needed to get out of the house for a
little
while...what are you reading?"
"It's just a mystery novel," she said, dismissively. "I'd almost forgot
how
to read for pleasure."
He nodded, taking a bite of his ham sandwich. "It's always the same
with any
degree," he said. "How's that progressing, anyway?"
She made a face. "I'm not talking about that now. In a week I'll have
to
live it all day and all night again. This is my holiday, and I'm not
spoiling it with talk of my thesis."
"Pax," he said, laughing, as she opened her beer. "All right, then, do
you
want to talk about what I'm working on?"
"Sure," she said. "It's not my thesis!"
After they finished eating, Remus decided that a lazy afternoon spent
weeding would be a nice change. It was too pretty to stay indoors, and
the
garden needed it. Hermione rolled to her front and asked politely if
he'd
put the lotion on her back.
She had soft skin, he noticed, as he stroked the potion on and in, down
the
long muscles of her back. Impossibly soft...he was used to touching a
man.
And each curve of her body held its own small universe of subsidiary
curves.
His hands wanted to falter as they stroked over the curve of her hip,
moved
down past the fabric, and started on her right thigh. Curves meeting
curves,
and the smell of skin and sun potion and a hint of the sweetest curve
of
all.
He stroked the lotion down over the soles of her upturned feet,
and
stood, absently wiping his hands on the faded jeans he wore. She turned
her
head, and their eyes met a long moment before she said, "Thanks," and
he
said something inane about weeding.
You got laid last night, you'll get
laid
tonight, settle down! he told his body, and turned his attention firmly
to
deadheading the roses. Besides, she was seeing Ron. No one who'd been
in the
house that last week doubted that at all.
They soon fell into a routine. Hermione read in the sun, or, if it was
raining, on the couch in the front room, anything that wasn't to do
with
maths. When she saw Remus doing something, she'd join him if there was
room
for two on the job. She had good quick hands, but he kept startling
when
he'd bump against the firm curve of her hip in the hall. She startled
too,
at his hands on hers to show her exactly how to manage that cleaning
spell,
or the twist to pulling bindweed that didn't leave root fragments in
the
ground. He felt her eyes on him, on his shoulders and his chest, on his
hands, warm as the sun and as disturbing as a waxing moon.
* * *
Sirius heard an angry female voice when he came into the kitchen, but a
quick glance around revealed Remus calmly chopping vegetables for
dinner.
Hermione was holding an argument with someone via the Floo network in the
parlour, he
saw when he glanced in there. He decided that he had things to do in
the
kitchen.
"What's it about?" he asked Remus.
Remus sighed. "What's it ever about?"
"Oh," said Sirius. "You need some help with that?"
"No... but I don't mind if you want to talk to me. How were classes?" Remus asked, deftly sweeping
the
vegetables into a pan.
As they talked, Sirius let part of his mind follow the conversation in
the
parlour. On again, off again. They would do fine if they'd both be a
little
more forgiving of the other's faults, he thought. But perhaps it was
that
they seemed to enjoy fighting. He'd seen relationships like that, where
the
fighting was foreplay. Didn't do a thing for him, though.
He heard her storm upstairs, and went in to make sure the connection
was
closed, and looked in on her. She had her book open, but had she been a
cat
her tail would still be lashing angrily. Best to let her simmer down on
her
own, he thought, and went down to help Remus get dinner on.
* * *
later that night
"You think she's cute, don't you, Moony?" said Sirius. He was grinning
into
the darkness. There was a breeze from the window, and it brought the
scent
of a night‑blooming coleus indoors, lush and heavy. It mingled well
with the
scents left from their earlier play.
"Mm, yes," Remus admitted. He shrugged, knowing Sirius could feel the
motion.
Sirius smiled, but there was a tension in his arm where it lay draped
over
Remus. Something wrong, then.
"Problems, Paddy?"
"I hadn't realized that they ate those memories," Sirius said quietly,
"until now."
Remus stroked his hair for comfort. Sirius had been quite the ladies'
man in
school, and Remus remembered kisses that tasted like the sea in his
dorm bed
after one of Sirius's dates. To lose it.... A dull wave of anger swept
up at
the past, and his shoving it away was automatic. He'd lost so much...
"You can always make new ones," he said softly. "Perhaps they're not
gone,
just filed somewhere else. Like how it felt to win at poker," he said,
reminding him of the night before, when Sirius had bluffed with a pair
of
nines and his inimitable charm and won, mainly because Hermione had
folded
with a straight. There was a soft laugh from the man beside him.
"Perhaps....you don't mind?"
"Sirius, I was the one dating the Ravenclaw girl...Lydia, was it?
yes....
I'm unlikely to mind. " His tone was soft but chiding. "We're us."
"Yes," Sirius said, and kissed him and Remus realized that maybe he
really
wasn't that sleepy yet, either.
In the midst of their play, more relaxed since they'd already both been
satisfied, Sirius whispered, "Shh...listen...."
Remus hauled his attention back from what he'd been doing, and
listened.
There was a chirp of cricket, the drip of the tap in the bathroom...and
a
very female but muffled moan from the other side of the bedroom wall.
Their eyes met, and they grinned. If they were wrong.... But if they
were
right.... And Sirius slid from the bed, stopping just long enough to
pull on
the pajama pants he'd discarded, and padded softly out into the hall.
He was
well aware of the problem with the lock on the guest room
door...namely,
that it didn't, and tended to drift open about two inches. It had. She
hadn't noticed.
She was lying curled on her side, hands between her thighs, and eyes
shut
while she touched herself. The nightgown she wore had drifted upward,
exposing tanned, lean thighs, and he could see the line of her tan
against
her hip, a graceful curve down over what, near as he could tell, was
one of
the best female arses he'd seen in a long time. She moved her head
against
the sensation she felt, and moaned slightly. It was nearly silent, the
habit
of someone who has lived with others, but Sirius could smell...her. He
closed his eyes. No. They hadn't taken all the memories. They returned,
and
Sirius stood there, caught between a sob and a smile, until Remus
touched
his shoulder, similarly dressed in the pyjama bottoms he had discarded
earlier.
"All right?" he said.
"Yeah, remembering...."
Remus smiled in the moonlight. "I told you it'd be all right," he said
softly.
"Yeah," Sirius said. "We can ask..."
Hermione heard the soft voices in the hall, and yanked her nightdress
down,
a wave of embarrassment swamping her arousal. She normally saved that
particular relaxation for her own rooms...but she hadn't really been
able to
sleep after hearing her hosts through the wall, and the heat from her
argument earlier that day hadn't entirely gone away over the course of
the
evening.
Remus....well, she'd liked him ever since he'd taught her classes when
she
was a teenager. She liked him more now, as an adult recognizing a like
mind.
And for all he was painfully scarred, the body beneath the scars was
broad-shouldered and narrow hipped, with muscles that rippled most
attractively when he was working shirtless in the garden. And
Sirius....whoo. Blue eyes and dark hair and a figure that was still
spare
and lean...well, she didn't blame the girls in all his classes for
developing crushes. The thought of the two of them together, complete
with
the noises through the wall...well...it was pretty damn hot, that was
all.
And the thought of him....them...knowing you've been...? Her mind
prompted,
and when it considered it, skittered shyly away from that. Because
there'd
been quiet evidences that they didn't consider her just their godson's
friend.... in the way Remus held his hands when teaching her all the
little
household spells anyone should know, in the way Sirius's eyes had
challenged
her when they played poker.
She sat up in bed, and heard the dead silence from the hall the instant
her
sheets rustled. There was a long moment, and then it was Remus who put
his
head inside. Ooh. Shirtless Remus. Yum, said her hormones. They very
much
liked the way the loose pants he wore rode low on his hips, loose
enough
that it wouldn't take much....
"I just...." Whatever excuse he'd concocted for looking in on her fell
away
when their eyes met. He dropped his eyes and blushed. The colour came up
in
her cheeks, and she gathered her courage.
"Do you come to me, or do I come to you?" she said, quietly.
"If you want, you come to us," said Sirius, who put a hand on Remus's
shoulder and moved him far enough inside so that Sirius could stand in the
doorway behind him. His eyes were dark in the moonlight, his hair loose
on
his shoulders. "We..."
"We'd like to make you happy, Hermione," said Remus. "Your decision,
your
speed..."
There was a pause, and before the rational side of Hermione had quite
stopped gibbering about the very notion, she had stood up and picked up
her
wand. She murmured a contraceptive charm, then laid it down on the
nightstand, walked over to Remus where he stood, and raised her hand to
touch his face. His beard was quite soft...surprising, she thought. He
closed his eyes, enjoying the touch, and Sirius smiled.
"I take it," he said, "that this is you coming to us."
"Yes," she said, and kissed Remus, gently, enjoying the feeling of his
body
up against hers. He was just a little taller, the way she liked a man,
and
they fit together quite nicely, a slow burn starting in her belly from
the
kiss.
Sirius exhaled long, and she felt Remus smile under her mouth. She
raised
her head to see fascination and awe in Sirius's eyes.
"That's so fucking sexy," he whispered.
Remus wrapped an arm around her waist, and deftly maneuvered them all
out of
her doorway. "Let's take this back in here," he whispered, and moved
back
toward the master bedroom.
It was a big bed, quite large enough for the three of them, and the
moonlight gilded them in silver as they all paused. First step.
Sirius looked at her, and then very deliberately bent his head to her,
kissing her. He kissed like fire, and Remus shifted behind her and
began
breathing soft kisses down her neck.
"If it's too much, too fast, say something, Hermione," Remus whispered
in
her ear, and Sirius pulled back, letting her speak.
"I...I've never done anything like this before," she said, looking up
at
him.
"Neither has Sirius," came Remus's voice on a breath in her ear. "But I
have...so relax. This is all about you, right now."
She smiled. "I trust you both," she said, and stepped out of their
arms
again, one step closer to the bed. Her hands went to the buttons down
the
front of her summer nightdress, and they watched as she undid them.
Both
men's eyes had gone dark and focused, and Sirius put his arm around
Remus as
he watched.
"God, Remus, she's beautiful," he whispered. "I..."
She slid the nightgown back off her shoulders, and sat down on the bed,
sliding herself to the center. Her eyes locked with Sirius's, and Remus
smiled, and pushed him gently towards her, until Sirius lay beside her
and
she rolled to her left to kiss him.
Beautiful, lovely, her curves against his angles...Remus had always
loved to
watch his lovers making love, see it from the outside, hoard it in his
memory against the cold times. He slid to the bed behind Hermione,
moved her
braid out of the way, and kissed her neck, feeling her shiver, caught
between him and Sirius.
Sirius's hands mapped her body, learning curves and softnesses, and he
looked at her with wonder between kisses that sent them both boneless.
God,
she was lovely with her mouth swollen from his kisses, hair coming
unbraided, and flushed...He drank her mouth again, feeling her moan,
and
then Remus rose up from behind her shoulder like the moon over the
hills and
smiled at him. And the wolf was in his smile.
A shift and a movement, and she was on her back. Sirius growled
faintly at
the interruption and kept kissing her, remembering what a woman's
breasts
felt like in his hands, watching her arch into his touch. And suddenly
she
shivered and cried out, grabbing on to him, whimpering. He extended a
hand
down her body, then his gaze, to find Remus lying comfortably between
her
legs, and exploring her with his mouth. Remus looked up, his eyes
crinkled
in a smile, and he bent back to his work. Hermione cried out wordlessly
and
reached for him, and he let her cling to him, exploring her jawline and
neck, and breathing inspired, mindless words into her skin.
"He's so good, isn't he, beautiful Moony, god, you're fabulous,
gorgeous,
beautiful woman, oh, that's it, that's right, let go, let him do
that...."
He had forgotten how magical it was to watch a woman come.
When at length Remus rose and kissed him, he could taste her, salt and
musk
and saffron on his lips. She watched them through sleepy eyes, smiling.
"That's beautiful," she said, and Remus turned and smiled at her.
"Back among the living, are you?" he said with a little laugh, settling
himself beside her to kiss her. She didn't flinch away from his mouth,
and
Sirius smiled, feeling his own arousal throbbing where he lay behind
her. He
was remembering, now, so much, and he smiled at Remus, while his hand
drifted down and cupped her sweet arse, and his mouth tasted her neck
and
shoulders, faint wisps of silk‑soft hair touching him.. She pushed back
against him, and he gasped suddenly. He really had come once tonight,
he
thought, grabbing desperately for control. He felt like a teenager. He
didn't remember the sensation...quite. Remus caught his gaze, and
turned to
her. Oh, Sirius recognized this Remus, the one that came out and firmly
and
calmly took control and wouldn't release it until Sirius was a
whimpering
lump on the bed. He shivered in anticipation.
"Do you want him, Hermione?" Remus whispered to her, letting her
recover
from kisses that Sirius knew were like heroin...dizzying, addictive, a
slow
warm wave of pleasure.
She moaned, and turned her head back to kiss Sirius. Remus smiled, and
turned her head back around.
"No, Hermione, you have to use words. Do you want him, my dear?"
She breathed a moment more, closing her eyes as if she couldn't talk
and see
at the same time. "Yes. Yes, God, please, Sirius...."
The angle was a little different. But his body remembered, even if his
mind
didn't, and his mind shut down about the time she wrapped around his
cock
like a hot velvet glove, and she gave that throaty moan, with the
little
rising whine at the end that was straight out of memory, and it jarred
him.
He moved against her, and she moved against him, and he bowed his head
against her spine and wept. Oh, God, it was too much. Too, too much,
and too
many memories...
She disentangled herself, his soft, strangled weeping penetrating the
haze of
pleasure, and saw Remus quickly slide out of bed and around, pulling
Sirius
into his arms from behind, whispering into his ear. She rolled to face
him,
concerned, as Remus whispered soothing words into his lover's ear.
"Ssh, shh, it's all right, see, it's not all gone, see, you know, and
it's
all right, I'm here, shh, Paddy, my Padfoot, love, shh...."
He was quieting, calming, and he opened his eyes and smiled at her
reassuringly. "Sorry about that," he said, and she smiled.
"Past can grab you when you're not expecting it," she said, and kissed
him
briefly for reassurance. "I don't mind. Ron's...had his moments."
"I should have asked....."
"He doesn't own me," Hermione said. "And I don't own him. Until he
pulls his
head out of his arse, I want no part of him."
She moved, and felt
Sirius
against her. Part of him wasn't having flashbacks. She reached a hand
down
to fondle him, and he gasped, looking at her with surprise, and a laugh
that
she joined when she met his eyes with her own. "So...shall we continue
where we left off, then?"
"Sounds good to me," he said with a grin, and it took only a shimmy of
his
hips and hers to put everything right back in line and...ooooh. She
sank
into his mouth as he slid into her body, and his hands began smooth
little
touches all over her. Hermione just closed her eyes and let the feel
of his
cock slide right up her spine. Slow little movements of hands and hips
made
it draw out, like honey, and suddenly he jerked, and said, in a thick
voice,
"Damn it, Moony, enough with the preliminaries, get on with it, if
you're
going to!"
Remus laughed. "Are you sure you can handle it?" he said, teasingly,
and
slid down behind Sirius, who slid partway out of her and paused, making
her
whine and wriggle towards him.
"I...Ohhh," he said, burying his face in her shoulder and breathing,
just
breathing. He wasn't moving, but she could feel Remus's hips working
where
her leg lay over Sirius's thigh. If anything, he grew an inch inside
her as
Remus fucked him, slow and steady. They were soon moving together, in
an
easy rhythm, and Sirius was clearly in heaven, caught between the two
of
them. He was kissing her with focused desperation, hands all over her
body
that even in this extremity of pleasure remembered how to touch a
woman.
Long and slow and sweet and really, it would be nice about now if one
of
them would stop this slow tease and....Sirius lifted his mouth from her
shoulder and said, in a hoarse growl, "Moony, damn it, fuck me now,
please...."
Remus only chuckled, and Hermione had just enough brain left to
appreciate
the sheer devilment in that chuckle before he picked up the pace. She
angled
her pelvis just so, and let them take her to heaven. Sirius sank teeth
into
her shoulder when he came in long shuddering bursts, and she felt the
all‑over shudder of pleasure from him as Remus came a few seconds
later.
They disentangled, and Remus, after a moment, picked his wand up from
his
nightstand and murmured a cleansing charm over all of them, before the
stickiness of sweat and other things became objectionable. "That
was...." he
began, warm eyes filled with amazement, and Sirius interrupted lazily.
"I believe the term is bloody brilliant, Moony," he said, eyes closed,
and
snuggling Hermione closer to him. She was enjoying the fact that he
cuddled
afterwards, unlike other lovers she had. In fact, she seemed to fit
just
under his chin, quite perfectly. There were still little ripples of
rose‑gold pleasure rippling out from her skin. Snuggling, eyes closed,
was
about her speed at the moment. Very nice.
Sirius continued. "However, if you decide to dissect the experience
right
this minute, we'll throw you out of bed. So quit it."
Remus laughed, and stroked Hermione's arm where it lay over Sirius's
hip.
She wiggled a bit, raised her head, and gave him a brilliant smile.
"Tomorrow's soon enough, surely," she said, a yawn creeping out despite
her
best efforts.
"You're fine?"
She giggled, and felt Sirius smile against her. "Never better."
"Shut up, Remus," he said again, rolled over, gave his partner a
lingering
kiss, and watched with sleepy eyes as Remus leaned over him to kiss
Hermione.
"Y'know, Remus," he said, as everyone settled down to sleep, "tomorrow
we've
got to put you in the middle."
Remus's soft laugh, like sunlight, washed over Hermione, and part of
her
mind thought about being in the middle. About the possibilities of two
men...ohh.... And then it gave up, called for the check, and left in a
huff
while the rest giggled quietly to itself as she slid into sleep. The
rest of
her holiday would definitely keep her too busy to think about her
thesis,
that was for sure.
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