hpkinkfest | Fic: How Much For Your Boyfriend? (Remus/Sirius; NC-17)

Title: How Much For Your Boyfriend?
Author:

rhye
Prompt Number: #270 submitted by

imera
Kink Showcased: Troilism
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Remus/Sirius, Remus/OMC
Summary: Sirius has always fantasized about watching Remus with another, but will his reality live up to his fantasies? Yes, yes it will. This is the beginning of a beautiful new era in their relationship. (Marauder Era).
Warnings: Exhibitionism, prostitution, fingering, masturbation, voyeurism
Word Count: 1182
Author's Notes: Thanks to

notearchiver for beta-reading this!

How Much For Your Boyfriend?

Sirius was nervous. He was pacing the small but lavish room they had accidentally discovered on the seventh floor. His hands were sunk deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, where they clenched into sweaty fists.

“Sit. It’s not as if I’ve never had sex before,” Remus said. He was perched cross-legged on the edge of the four-poster bed in the secret room. He wore a silk bathrobe-- something that had also magically appeared in the room.

“Not for money, you haven’t,” Sirius retorted.

“No, not for money.”

“What if he doesn’t like you? What if he demands his money back? Or threatens to tell? Or won’t pay at all?”

“Get the money up front,” Remus recommended, nonplussed.

“Aren’t you the least nervous that he’ll think you’re too skinny or ask about your scars or, well, anything?”

Remus glared at Sirius from under half-lidded eyes. “I wasn’t nervous until now.” A heartbeat. “Is that how you think of me?”

“No! Moony, no. I think you are the sexiest, hottest, sexiest--”

“You said that already--”

“Look, I’m just nervous that this isn’t going to be as good as I’ve imagined. I’ve dreamed of this hundreds of times, but what if it’s-- what if I get jealous, or-- shit, I don’t know.”

Remus shrugged. “You say stop, we stop. We give him his money back and it ends.”

Sirius nodded, mildly comforted at least by the idea that he had some control over whether they went through with this. In his imagination, watching his boyfriend fuck and be fucked by another man was brilliant and beautiful, sexy and sinful. The money was icing on the cake; an added taste of the forbidden to an already secret encounter. In reality-- well, who could be sure that it would work out the way it had in his fantasies?

Sirius’s reverie was interrupted by a noise in the hallway: their third had arrived. Clive Flint was a quiet Ravenclaw from a largely Slytherin family. Sirius opened the door and welcomed the handsome, if thin, Flint into their room, closing the door behind him.

Flint’s dark eyes immediately went towards Remus who, in response, opened his robe. Sirius lost himself in the moment. He watched Flint as he took in Remus’s nakedness: light skin against the deep red robe and bedspread, unusually large cock already hardened.

Shaking himself back to reality, Sirius had to clear his throat. “Two galleons,” he said.

“Lupin’s not worth two. I’ll pay one.”

“You’ll leave then,” Sirius said. He was certain that Flint was bluffing; he had seen the lust in Flint’s eyes.

Flint turned and tried to stare Sirius down, then his hand drew two galleons from his pocket. “You win, Black. He’s hung like a fucking Abraxan.”

Sirius took the coins. “And he’s yours for an hour.” He felt himself stiffen to full hardness with the words.

Flint wasted no time stripping out of his robes. Once he stood in just his pants, he faced Remus. “Take my pants off with your teeth, you slag.”

Sirius tensed at the derogatory, but soon realized that Remus was complying without hesitation. Sirius needed to relax, to enjoy the show being put on, after all, for his own benefit. He positioned himself so that he would have a better view. As Flint’s hard cock came into view, Sirius felt his pulse quicken. This was the cock that might fuck his own boyfriend. Sirius’s knees went weak with lust. His own Remus, his Moony, playing the tart for Clive Flint! It was delicious. It was beautiful. It was a thousand late-night fantasies coming true before his eyes.

“Get up,” Flint ordered, and Remus obliged. Flint turned Remus around and bent him over the lush bedspread. “Are you used to Black’s tiny cock in you?”

Remus nodded, his head dropping towards the bedspread. “I’d love to try yours, instead,” he said in a throaty whisper.

“Then you’d better get ready!”

Sirius wasn’t offended; Flint’s cock wasn’t bigger than his own and Flint had never seen his anyway-- though if this continued that might change. Sirius wasn’t sure how long he could pretend to be a professional bystander while his fantasy was playing out in front of him. His heart seemed to actually skip a beat as Flint spread Remus’s arse-cheeks and lowered his mouth to the pucker between them. Remus gasped, his eyes closed, but his face relaxed in pleasure. Sirius knew that he should be jealous, but instead he was aroused beyond belief to see Remus enjoying the touch of a near-stranger.

Flint continued, his head buried, his face nearly out of Sirius’s sight as he lathered Remus’s hole with spit. Finally, he resurfaced. “Now you’re wet for me, like some cunt. Black probably could have gotten three galleons out of me.”

Flint’s words made Sirius’s stomach flip with desire. He was determined not to disrobe or to even put his hand down his trousers, but he could not help but rub a palm over his hard cock.

Flint started more slowly than Remus would have expected; he slipped one finger into Remus first, then two. At three, Sirius rubbed himself harder, unable to resist. At four, Sirius heard a moan escape his own mouth. At five, Remus began whimpering. Flint didn’t push enough to get the palm of his hand into Remus, and Sirius found himself disappointed, but the disappointment faded when Flint straightened up and entered Remus himself. He rocked swiftly. Remus was already close, already moaning, his eyes pressed closed, his hands pulling mercilessly on the fine blankets.

Sirius, too, was close. He now rubbed himself through his trousers fervently, shamelessly. His knees buckled, but he continued rocking into his own hand without missing a beat.

Flint came first, screaming what might have been a curse, except that Sirius was too lost in his own pleasure to hear the words. Remus’s cry was strangled and low and followed quickly by Sirius’s own-- high pitched and exultant. By the time Sirius’s vision cleared, Flint was already buckling his trousers back on.

“You’re a sick fuck, Black, selling your boyfriend to other men. I might be back, though, if he’s still on offer.”

Sirius, still gasping for breath, said, “Three galleons.”

“What? Why--”

“You said--”

“Oh fuck. Alright. It’s a deal.”

Sirius tried to get to his feet but stumbled. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Flint was gone by the time Sirius turned to the door.

“That was amazing,” Remus whispered. “Not just him, but knowing you were watching, knowing you were coming.”

“Your eyes were closed,” Sirius responded absent-mindedly.

“Heightens other senses,” Remus answered. He was still out of breath. “Sirius, do you-- did you enjoy that?”

“Merlin, yes.”

“Good. I’d like to do it again.”

“With Flint?”

Remus rolled over to address Sirius more directly. “With anyone, I don’t care. Just as long as you’re there. Sirius Black, will you be my pimp?” His smile was playful, but Sirius could see the lust around the edges.

“Fuck, yes.”