Marauder crack

Talk to me (a little)

Sirius's voice didn't change little by little, like the rest of the boys in Hogwarts. Puberty hit him like a wind. He entered the class of Herbology speaking with the normal childish pitch of him, and when he came out and assured "Herbology is for morons", the higher tones had disappeared and his tone reverberated louder and deep. James thought he had swallowed something and Sirius blurted "Knocturn Alley" to hear himself and check that a phenomenal change had indeed taken place. He said "Dumbledore, mandrake, Birmingham, Manchester United" and clearly delighted, he announced, "this is not my voice!" He played with the discovery like a small child and he dedicated himself to sing, shout, proclaim, and rechant, trying how each letter sounded, each corner of each syllable. As a last resort, he walked over to Remus and muttered the start of "Hey, Jude" in his ear.

"-Don ́t make it bad... take a saaad soooooong and make it bettaaaah"

Of course, Sirius still was totally unaware of the reaction he had just elicited as he asked him if he believed that his new voice, "whoever it is", would be appealing to the girls. Remus swallowed thick saliva.

- It's a possibility.

He was spared saying that that criminal voice had just had a destabilising effect on his nervous system. He wondered why most guys go through a horrible out-of-tune phase of acne and shyness issues as Sirius fitted puberty as one of his legendary bludger hits, brilliantly, instinctively, naturally. More and more comfortable in his body, and with a shape that would have opened the gates of almost any sin.

Remus always, since that day, has had a weakness for his voice. It was before he knew what he was capable of saying in bed, with his pants on his knees as he appears and disappears into his mouth.

'For Merlin fuck Lupin, that mouth".

Sirius groans from the back of his throat. It is not a groan. Deeper.

A moo?

He won't be able to concentrate anymore.

He holds his head. Sinking fingers in his hair.

"Every time I look at you since now I'm only going to see you sucking my cock"

-Open your legs.

Remus moistens his lips. Gasping.

-Remus I'm gonna cum, I'm going to cum if you stay like this, Remus don't stop, I'll do what you want but no fuck yes so please don't stop inside your mouth, I want to see, please moony god don't stop yes yes don't stop...

Remus has heard stories before. He doesn't mind admitting that he was listening when the girls clustered in the library and whispered about Sirius. He has heard more than once that the same problem of verbal incontinence, he has it in the bed as outside of it. They all agreed that he didn't know how to be quiet. It is one thing to know. Another thing is to hear it. And that sensation on the lips, and the contrast between softness and rigidity, and his fingers in his hair, and how he sweats, and his way of enjoying it, how he is so passionate about him as he is passionate about all those other things that make him Sirius, his voice, the things he says, as he gently pushes his hips into his mouth, lifting a little, desperate but not suffocating, although Remus wouldn't mind dying like this licking him in bed, noticing that bitter and strange but familiar taste, and Sirius, noticing the last contractions of his body as if all his fantasies crystallised one autumn afternoon.

Defeated and without strength, Sirius catches his breath and Remus with him.

- That was ... fuck. In which book have you learned ...? Don't, I don't want to know.

He mutters "I don't want to know." Exhausted, jaded, irresistible, hugging him almost blindly, this time, this time yes, until suffocating him.

- Sirius?

- Hmm?

"I love you. Since ever. Forever. I love you so much that I could die here with you".

- Nothing.

His breaths are matched in silence.

- Remus?

- Yeah?

- Nothing.