"Remus, I found that book you asked me to check out for you," Harry said as he let himself into Remus’s chambers, his face buried in the book as he leafed through the worn pages. "Though, I’m not sure why you needed a copy of the Defense text you’re using this year," he continued, "Shouldn’t you have one–"
Harry stopped talking mid sentence. His eyes went wide as his jaw slackened and the battered book tumbled to the floor.
"Remus?" Harry squeaked.
"Yes, Harry?" Remus purred as he prowled forward.
"Um… Er, I mean to say… are you naked? You’re naked. Why are you naked?" Harry stuttered.
Remus chuckled. "Why don’t you take a guess?" he asked as he stopped a few feet from Harry and licked his lips.
Harry looked Remus up and down, not missing the rangy limbs, the thick cords of muscle here and there, the smattering of coarse sandy coloured hair. The thick bobbing penis currently waving hello, though, commanded most of Harry’s attention.
"I suppose it’s not wash day."
"No," Remus said, amusement dancing in his eyes.
A distinct fluttering sensation made its way to Harry’s stomach before traveling lower and tickling his cock into hardness.
"Er, you’ve decided to become a nudist?" Harry asked as he shuffled his feet.
"Good one, but no. That’s not it," Remus said as he took a step closer and leaned forward. He sniffed. "You smell delicious," he said before licking the side of Harry’s neck with a broad, licentious stroke. "Did you know? I could eat you up. Perhaps I will," he said as he nuzzled Harry’s neck and cupped his balls.
Harry couldn’t breathe—didn’t want to breathe, if breathing meant Remus would step away and the bizarre scene he found himself in would end.
"You—you, oh fuck," Harry said as his eyes rolled back, "I didn’t know teeth could do that—make you feel… oh fuck."
"My teeth can do lots of things. So can my mouth. Shall we have a practical demonstration?" Remus murmured as he grabbed Harry round the middle and nibbled the shell of his ear. "Would you like to see what my mouth can do, Harry?"
Harry felt his knees buckling. Thank Merlin Remus was there to keep him upright. "I’m starting to think you—oh yes, right there, fuck, oh, fuck—I’m starting—oh God, don’t stop—I—I—I—what are you doing? How can your tongue possibly—oh fucking God! —I’m starting—you didn’t need the book," Harry finally blurted before moans replaced words and the strength left his body.
"No. Just you, I only needed you," Remus said as he caught Harry and pulled him down, deftly removing Harry’s robes as he did so. He trailed nibbles and licks down Harry’s jaw, his throat, his shoulders, and his torso. He delighted in the mews and moans and whispered pleas he elicited with each small touch. Harry was a quick study and soon they were both moaning and writhing and practicing their respective skills. They studied each other all night before Harry reluctantly announced the next morning that he had to leave to supervise a detention.
"Not bad," Remus said before letting Harry walk through the door. "Though I think a bit more practice is in order, don’t you think?"
"Er, yeah. Loads of practice—I’ll need quite a lot. To get it just right, I mean," Harry stammered, ignoring the blush of arousal suffusing his cheeks.
Remus pulled Harry close and kissed him breathless. "Tonight, then."
"Tonight. See you," Harry said as he attacked Remus with clumsy kisses before darting away.
Remus watched him scurry away before closing the door and congratulating himself on a plan well executed. Flirting had gotten Remus nowhere. It had been Severus who had told him what he needed to do. "Tell him to come to your rooms and be naked when he gets there. There’s not much he could misinterpret about that," he’d said. "Sounds like a practical demonstration is in order. Potter always did respond best to one-on-one instruction," he’d snapped before sweeping Remus into a possessive, earth-shattering kiss.
"Of course, two-on-one can be very instructive as well," Remus said to himself as he sauntered towards the bath for a well-earned soak. A wicked smile broke across Remus’s face as he imagined where Harry’s lessons—and his instructors—might take them next.
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