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This is Part 7 of an interconnected series of one-shots. To get the whole reading experience, I recommend starting with Part 1 here.
*Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only 17!*
Sirius attempted to distract himself with the classic song, studiously avoiding the duo that had gotten closer the longer he sat alone. Cringing internally he dragged his gaze from the entrance of the bar and down to his glass. This was not Sirius Black, the man for many, behaviour. Sighing in acceptance that something had changed, he permitted his gaze to dart right back to the front door. He just didn't understand why they were taking so long. He had left ages after they said they would be here so all eyes would be on him, not him waiting anxiously for her.
After the many opportunities he had had with Hermione the past month and a half, he was ready to make his move tonight. Pansy had confirmed that they would be coming and that Hermione had endured a long week, ready to unwind. Sitting up straight, relief falling over his face, Sirius ticked his wrist in the air as his godson enter followed shortly by Pansy, Remus, and, "Hermione," he stuttered.
“Fuck,” he muttered, knocking back the finger of Jack Daniel’s he had been nursing. She had an almost sheer, beige dress, sitting like a second skin, scarcely held up by two thin strings on either shoulder and neck adorned with a single silver chain. Her hair was wild around her shoulders, sitting in a high ponytail unstraightened, reminiscent of the first time they met or more recently, of their week in the snowy mountains of Australia.
He greeted everyone absently, barely pushing Remus back when he knocked into him in a rough hello. His eyes were trained on the way her arse was so easily sketched through her small outfit as Hermione shifted from foot to foot, not joining their end of the bar but rather walking towards a high top table near the back.
“She’s on a date,” Pansy supplied, his eyes snapping to the prissy brunette ready to deflect her statement until Remus covered his mouth with a finger. Shaking his head, “Shhh, Pads. Don’t deny what we all know you were thinking. The little vixen doesn’t need a boy waiting for her to make a move. She’s too good for that.”
“Or blind,” Pansy snorted into her newly procured cocktail. “The point remains,” Remus glared at Pansy and Sirius chuckled at how protective he already was of this bird, “if you were truly interested, you would have made a move by now. It seems to me, for all her brilliance, she’s hesitant to move anything beyond friendship because of your inaction. Severus told me she recently turned down Draco’s advances even though he’s been trying to court her for some time.”
“Just, let her be Sirius,” Harry grumbled, pulling his girlfriend into his lap, giggling and slanted her lips over his.
“Ugh, we are in public, pup!” Sirius groaned, turning away from the young lovers.
Ignoring the quips regarding his hypocrisy he turned back and gripped his empty tumbler hard at the way McLaggen's hands slipped up and down the silky smooth material along her back. “Why is he getting so close to her?” Sirius groaned before turning back for more whiskey, ignoring the echoing groans the group around him.
He spent the following hour following the way the slimy scum continued to lean into her, how his actions became more desperate as she began to pull away. “Don't you think we should go over there?” Sirius asked, cutting off whatever tale Harry had been regaling them with.
“What?” Remus’ eyes were dark when he finally pulled his gaze away from the temptress. “He's practically forcing himself onto her. She keeps pulling away from him, and he’s just not getting the pict--”
“Three more minutes and she’ll tell him off, order herself Jose Cuervo’s top-shelf tequila straight, and glide over here as if she didn’t just waste the last hour of her life to a pompous toad like him.” Sorting through Pansy's prediction he watched the brunette turn to the bartender and request they bring down their top-shelf tequila for the brunette in the slinky number.
Sirius jumped to his feet when the git’s hand finally attempted to glide below her lower back, only held back by Remus’ pitiful attempts at support, “No, stop, don’t go,” his arse of a wingman mumbled around his pipe.
However, it was Pansy’s chuckle that had him settling back into his chair. He watched, mesmerized at the way the largest cock this side of the channel shrunk into himself as Hermione leaned up, shoulders back, face firm. Sirius watched as Hermione flipped her hair back over her shoulder, knocked back whatever drink McLaggen had been nursing and made her way to the bar.
“It’s just sort of unfair,” Sirius whined.
“How predictable she is?” Pansy asked, eyes wide and full of faux innocence.
“Har, har. No! How she checks off all those pesky boxes I didn’t even know respectable men like me had. I’ve turned into a 13-year-old bird and she’s ruining everything.”
“I wonder if those feelings have a name.” Harry shook his head, clearly expecting Sirius to catch onto whatever cryptic advice he was bestowing upon his rakish godfather.
“Don’t.” Hermione finally announced her presence and Sirius almost choked at how much better she looked up close. What he thought was beige from afar ended up being a very light blush rose, the silver chain held a small symbol he was unfamiliar with but looked like a triangle with a line and circle inside. But it was her hair. He had made a quip about loving her curls back in Australia on one of their nights in, about how she looked so at ease with herself when she didn't spend hours straightening them. She had laughed and said no one really loved her curls, but to see her like this, to see her accepting and enjoying the very thing he desired to run his hands through had him staring agape until Remus kicked him hard in the shin.
Pansy laughed next to her, hands up in the universal sign of surrender. “Rude, I’ve said nothing. How was your tequila?”
“Not nearly strong enough; thanks for getting it ready. What are you drinking, you heathen?” Hermione joked back, eyes firmly away from his as she twisted the ring laying loosely on her right forefinger.
“You lasted longer with him than Nott. I’m impressed, what with that silver tongue of his and all,” Sirius couldn’t help but laugh at the long groan that escaped her pouty lips. “I said not to say anything, P. But bloody hell that was torture. He seemed nice enough, the banter was decent, but it’s a shame that the pretty face is just not enough for me. Kings ruined me for all men,” Hermione bemoaned as Pansy handed her a long-island iced tea.
“Kings?” Sirius finally spoke up, ignoring the chuckle from his horrible friend. It was not Sirius' fault that this bird had received some deep shit from him but he had gotten nothing in return. And damn it all but he wanted to know her.
“Damn that went down too smoothly, P.” Hermione mumbled around her straw, slurping up the last drops, and licking her lips of any residue before silently asking the closest bartender for another. She ignored him still, waiting for the drink, and then taking another deep pull before letting out a light breath through a brittle smile. “Kings was - my last and truly only real partner. How would you two describe him?" Hermione deferred to the young couple in the group.
"Everything," Harry stated firmly; "Deeply devoted but his focus was too divided, being almost 20 years her Senior, it was understandable but ultimately detrimental" Pansy spoke over her boyfriend, eyeing him nastily at his resolute tone.
Hermione laughed where Sirius would have demanded more. Her last relationship was with a man his age? How had this not turned up when interviewing his many spies. "Probably best to have asked someone less biased." He followed the way her tongue played with her paper straw as she scrunched her face before relaxing on a exhale he wasn't aware she had been holding in. "I suppose the best way to describe Mr Kingsley Shacklebolt, was everything I needed at the time, but nothing I was meant to keep.”
Sirius wanted to clear out the look of sadness that crossed her face; he didn't know the sting of a failed relationship, and there was a very good reason for that. But seeing it outfitted on her, because of something he asked, left him on unsure footing.
“To exes that changed us,” Remus cut through his fog and the air shifted as their glasses clinked and the group laughed.
At Sirius' loud echo, relieved there was lightness injected into the group once again Remus and Harry exchanged a look he recognized well. “Is it fair for you to join in, Pads?” Harry said cheekily, “I just mean, you need an ex under your belt to properly toast just then, yeah? And that hasn’t been something you’ve experienced, has it? Having an ex? Especially one that changed you.”
Sirius felt the way Hermione slowly turned her gaze to him, furrowing his brow and downing the last drops of his own drink before sliding the cup onto the bar behind him. Racking his brain for a plausible ex, he started, “No, no I have been in relationships before!”
“What! Who?” Remus chortled.
“Well, Marlene --”
“The same bird that has been seeing you, Gideon Prewitt, and has most recently been working her way into the good graces of Lucius Malfoy--”
“Without any success,” Pansy added.
“Right well, how about that bird back in our last year of secondary?”
“Victoria?” Remus’ exasperation settled over Sirius.
“Right well, right.” Deep grey eyes finally sought out the soulful deep caramel, watching the world fade away before he responded with as much certainty in his words, “I may lack the experience, true, but I think enough of my past liaisons have helped mould me into a man that will know when I meet the one worth settling down for, the one worth opening up to and letting in.”
She smiled into her glass, his heart pounding against his chest, his own bright smile breaking free across his scruff. Ignoring the looks shared amongst the other three over her head he turned quickly and ordered another round for the group before she saw what she did to him before she saw and understood something he was still piecing together himself.
The conversation finally shifted off of him and onto inane topics until the miniature disco ball, the last relic the bar maintained from its time as a disco night club, was turned on.
“Granger, dance with me!” Pansy shouted as the music grew in volume and the crowd started moving onto the impromptu dance floor.
He chuckled into the palm holding up his head while she attempted to get out of it. “Pansy, I just want to sit here and watch other people make fools of themselves! I told you I had a long week and I am already wearing all this,"--Hermione gestured to the dress and strappy black heels--"which should be enough for you!"
Scoffing dramatically, Pansy untangled herself from Harry’s grasp and towered over her small frame, “Are you 28 or 50? Honestly, sort out your priorities! Plus,” she smirked, her blue eyes landing against his own silver before turning back to Hermione, “you owe me for years of dealing with these boring sods while you focused on ambitious things.”
He could barely see her face, turned to the side as she was, but he could make out the way her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened at Pansy’s statement. “Pansy Parkinson are you attempting to guilt me for continuing my education as a means to get me to dry hump you in front of a throng of strangers?” The way she placed her hands on her hips had him and the two men around them inching backwards.
Instead of fear, however, Pansy threw her head back and pulled her forward, “Absobloodylutely Granger! I haven’t got all night!”
Sirius watched the way she chugged her drink, stumbled off her bar stool, and throwing her leather jacket off her lap and onto Harry, “Watch that!”, off she went. She laughed and Sirius wished he could follow as her eyes glittered in amusement.
Once the girls had disappeared into the thickening crowd Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. His face was serious, tone desperate. “Pads, I will give them two songs alone and then I will march in there and demand my woman back. However, this looks like a two-man mission and we know how much Remus hates crowds like this.”
Sirius eyed Harry shrewdly; his godson kept an innocent expression pasted across his face under his review, but his eyes gave away what he was doing. Already suspicious, his gaze darting to Remus as his best friend added, “It’s true, I get a bit cranky this close to the full moon.”
Sirius barked out laughing, knocking Harry’s hand off and placing his own patronizingly against Harry’s shoulder instead. “The full moon was last week, Moony you bleeding wolf! And of course, I’ll defend you in a crowd of drunkards and women who can’t keep their hands off of such a strapping young lad.”
Harry knocked his hand off in turn and the men enjoyed another round of drinks, scarcely making out the sleek, black hair that bobbed in time with the music, the smaller form of Hermione unidentifiable over the crowd.
As lyrics about not knowing someone's name resonated through the old space, Harry and Sirius moved through the crowd. He barely noticed a body trying to latch onto his until he was pulled back by a faceless redhead. Shaking her off his arm, sneer on his face, he turned in time to catch Hermione and Pansy dancing and jumping to the words. “They call me Jane! That’s not my name, that’s not my name, that’s not my name!!” Hermione turned, eyes alight with joy and life. She froze when she noticed their presence, eyes darting between his own, and through his own startled expression, he felt his lips twitch into a smirk.
It took her only a moment of gaping like a fish after that before she shrugged off any judgement she had expected from him and resumed her enjoyment. She moved, hips rolling in time with the beat, hands up in the air and playing with her curls as she sashayed towards him, Pansy keeping stride as they continued to sing along with the song.
"'They call me "quiet girl",
But I'm a riot Mary, Jo, Lisa,
Always the same,
That's not my name! That's not my name! That's not my name! That's not my name!
I miss the catch if they throw me the ball -
I'm the last chick standing up against the wall!'”
“Sirius!” She laughed, grabbing hold of his hands and forcing his body to jive with her own. “This is your song! Mr That’s not my name!”
His cheeks hurt, the smile that was overtaking him at how free she was in this moment intoxicating as they danced to the rest of the song, him pretending he knew the lyrics and her laughing at his attempts.
As the song shifted into a sultrier tune his hands shifted from within hers and up her bare forearms. He hesitated as she looked up at him through her lashes before sliding his left hand down her shoulder, over her back, and onto her side, bringing her hips flush against his body. His right hand shifted to the crook of her neck, thumb gliding against the thrumming of her pulse point as he ground against her. “This song I know,” he murmured as Ne-Yo’s Closer rang through the air.
“Come Closer,” she whispered as he bent his knees, groin coming in contact with her own, letting her set the pace. Shivers shot through him as she trailed her nails along his jaw before latching her wrists behind his neck, bringing them as close as her height would allow. Pulling herself up on her tiptoes, she whispered, lips trailing against his jaw and earlobe, “Like she's right there in my ear // Telling me that she wants to own me // To control me, Come Closer.”
And Sirius couldn’t have held on a moment longer, couldn’t have held himself at a respectable distance a second more unless she had demanded it of him.
“ 'And I just can’t pull myself away'” crashed around him as he finally let his lips collide with her own. She rolled her body in tune to the song thumping through them, his lips pillowed along hers, hips swaying under her gentle guidance, enjoying the way her fingers tugged at his hair as he moved his hand over her arse.
As Ne-Yo’s honeyed voice wrapped around them he broke away, forehead touching her own, whispering the lyrics back to her, feeling there was no better way to describe this thing, this moment that this new song. “ 'I can feel her on my skin, I can taste her on my tongue. She's the sweetest taste of sin; the more I get the more I want.' Let’s”-- he bit his lip as she ran her fingers up and down his neck-- “come with me?”
She nodded and Sirius moved like hell’s hounds were on his heels. Weaving them in and out of gyrating bodies and ignoring Remus’ raised glass and smirking face. They fell out of the bar entrance laughing at their rushed paces. As Hermione tugged him closer to the side of the building, conveniently fitting them into the alley beside the bar, darkened by the evening's cloudy sky, their laughter petered out.
Stopping just shy of the street lights, her hand ran up her neck nervously before playing with the back of her necklace and Sirius stepped into her space, hand gripping her wrist and crashed his lips onto hers once more. However, where they were tentative and lulled by the sensuality of the music inside the bar, out here they were two adults done dancing around the other.
She pushed him into the opposite wall, faces separating as he huffed out a breath before bending his neck to kiss her again. They played this tug of power for a few more deep kisses, tongues entering each other's mouths, tracing teeth, teeth nipping lips, hands roaming the bodies of the other until he finally got her to heel under his ministrations, her back firmly against the club’s sidewall.
She gasped his name as his hand traced up her inner thigh. He watched her carefully; it was as if she was already in tune with his inner thoughts when her nails dug into his sleeves, nodding once, and he finally cupped her mound through her knickers. She ground down, upper back flattening against the wall as she pushed into his frozen hand. The heat of her pussy seeped through the thin material as she attempted to work herself against his palm. Letting go of his left arm she slowly pushed the thin strap of her dress down, his eyes following its descent greedily as she slowly exposed her left breast, free from a bra.
Finally snapping out of his stunned inaction as she slowly traced her fingers over her newly exposed areola his left hand pushed against her pussy lips, grabbing her right thigh to wrap around his thigh and opening her up some. Keeping his dilated gaze on her own blackening eyes, he bent into himself before flicking his tongue against her nipple. And fuck if the little mewl that escaped her didn’t make him suck her whole nipple into his mouth. He feasted on her breast before shoving her dress down to her hips. Angling his body toward the entrance of the alley to protect her modesty, Hermione clung to his shoulders as his fingers shoved against her clothed clit in tandem with the nips and flicks of his tongue across her chest.
“Fuck yes,” she whimpered a moment before he brought his lips back to hers, releasing her thigh as he worked to single-handedly undo his trousers. Realizing his failing efforts she pushed him away and like magic, his leaking cock was in her warm hands. His head fell back, mindful to keep a slow rhythm against her clit, as she worked him over with both hands.
“You’re stunning like this,” she remarked, forcing his head back up to watch as she stood there, shocked that it would be her saying something like that to him. And he took this moment to really look at this goddess before him. With her leg wrapped around his mid-thigh, tits moving as she worked over his cock, and grinding lightly against his hand, she was everything.
“So are you, kitten,” he gasped as her fingers twisted just under the head of his cock, thumb seeking out his pre-come. She brought her finger to her mouth, pink tongue darting out to collect his own essence and he, “had enough. Need you now, please,” he pleaded.
His heart arrested against his rib cage, breath leaving his lungs as her thigh dropped. But before he could demand an explanation, she moved his hand, shifted out of her panties, crouched down and shoved them into his back pocket. She stood back up, challenge in her gaze, as she slowly pulled one elbow free of the small straps, then the other. “I want to feel your chest against mine.” Hermione shrugged and his fingers flew over his buttons, pulling his shirttails out of his pants, so thankful for once that he had chosen a button-down instead of a t-shirt. He would have done it, stood shirtless in this alley, back to the world, but he didn't have to.
As he undid his cuffs, she leaned against the brick once more, breasts presented to him, necklace the only adornment against her skin. With deliberate movements, she confirmed the top of her dress would stay around her small waist before shifting the satin up over her hips, bunching the light material on her abdomen, and exposing herself to him.
Her curls were spread around her as if she was on his thread count at home, tangled and caught along the rough edges of the brick behind her and she slowly brought two fingers to her clit. She looked down, before turning dark eyes back up to him, slight furrow marring the joy from earlier as she worked herself over slowly.
“Please,” she asked quietly, and he could finally see through her defences, could sense that his lack of action was causing unexpected fears to enter this space they had created. “Fuck, do I want you, Hermione. So you never need beg,” Sirius assured, running his large hand over her small breasts before he took over the slow movement of her fingers, giving her the freedom to wrap her arms around his neck.
"Your back--" He started.
"Has survived worse, believe me." With a considering nod Siriuis straightened up, already prepared to take on her weight as her shoes left the alley floor and gripped the soft flesh of her arse tightly. He dragged his hands up and around her globes, allowing himself a moment to feel the way her muscles clenched at his intrusion, the way she bucked against him when he ghosted over her puckered hole. Then, unwilling to waste a moment more he dragged his hands to her thighs, encouraging her to link her ankles behind him. Hermione moved to position his cock against her pussy, groaning when he felt himself slip through her soaked folds, seeking entrance into her sanctuary.
“Fuck, I’m such a lame sod,” he murmured, laughing at her questioning glance. However, his words were momentarily forgotten as he snapped his hips, seating himself entirely inside of her. Her face scrunched up, eyes shut tight as she whined through close lips. He gave her a moment to adjust around him, having forgotten how large he was to her smaller frame. “So sorry, love,” he murmured, kissing her temple.
“No, mmm, no, so good, just so big,” she stuttered before slowly circling her hips in the limited space she had, experimenting and groaning when he kissed her g-spot and then the outmost edge of her cervix. She was a heated glove, pulsing and shifting around him. He was panting as she adjusted, ready to slam into her until they both broke and when he felt that he couldn’t hold on without moving she latched onto his lips murmuring, “go, fast, please.”
His lips moved against hers, as he pulled out and pushed back in. The clench of her walls was unrelenting as he shifted out, begging him to stay. He quickly dove back as her fingernails dug into his corded shoulder muscles, biting in just the right way as her tongue traced the upper cavern of his mouth. Picking up the pace as she had demanded, their kisses became open-mouthed pants, mingling and escaping into the warm July night.
“So close, Sirius,” she whimpered. He felt one of her hands moving away from his frame and on his next drive into her, shifted to hold her weight up with one hand, moving the other to her clit. “Oh, oh, oh, oh,” she prayed as his thumb sped around her clit, her cheek against his own. He couldn't see if her eyes were open or closed in rapture, if her face was flushed from his cock or if he bit her lip as she gained speed towards her orgasm. Instead, Hermione panted into his ear and the sole thought that made it through their fog of lust was how many more times he needed this, not less.
As she broke around him, head falling into his neck, lips open as she bit into him, his free hand moved to wrap around her back, holding her tighter to him, willing this moment to not end, not yet.
He snapped into her a half dozen more times, relishing in the way her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him closer to herself as her orgasm ebbed. “I am on birth control,” she whispered and he nodded as he kissed up and down her neck.
“You feel so good,” she muttered. “Fuck you fit so well,” she continued, almost as if he wasn’t there, as if she didn’t realize these were not thoughts secure in her mind.
“Just like that, you're so close I feel it, Sirius. Come in me, babe. Let me feel you fall apart, maybe you can take me with you again. Fuck if this isn’t perfect,” she panted so quietly he was thankful she probably, definitely, thought this was all in her head.
He tried to snap and grind his hips against her clit, unsure if he was succeeding, but she was tightening around him again, light pulses echoing around his cock and with a final hiss he came inside her. A small sense of satisfaction seeped through his orgasm as Hermione sobbed against his neck, light tremors racing up and down her spine. Sirius willed energy to his arm so he could stroke her back, easing them both out of their coupling.
Dropping his head to her shoulders, he let go of her arse, holding her lower back close to him; just embracing her. He didn’t care how this would look to any of his friends, unwilling to acknowledge that this was more intimacy than he had felt with anyone in his life.
Hermione's lungs expanded against his own, snapping him out of his thoughts, preparing himself for whatever this little hellcat was about to say. He truly didn’t know what to expect from her; he sure as fuck hadn’t expected his night to end like this. The sex sure, that was his aim after all, but everything else. The confusion, the certainty, the alignment of him in her tight cavern, her responses, her participation, he hadn't expected it, his body hadn't been prepared for so much other.
Sirius tried and failed to hide his smirk as he took in her dishevelled half pony-tail, swollen lips, and dark marks already blooming along her skin. She simply rolled her eyes in response, “Right, yes, this was all you. I'll give you and your ego a moment.”
At his continued silent appraisal, she traced his own swollen lips with her finger, “Thanks. For making it good. Didn’t quite expect this but it was needed nonetheless.”
Hermione placed a quick peck to his lips before wriggling against his flaccid member and he slowly let her back onto her feet. Reaching into his back pocket she fished out her knickers, patted around her thighs for any excess fluids, before returning them coyly back to him.
“Right, let’s go back in before they think I kidnapped you or something equally as ridiculous.” She smiled up at him, adjusting her straps and moving to tuck him back into his pants. She, well, this reaction, her behaviour reminded him of someone, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Brow furrowing, he swatted her hands away before finishing the job. She shrugged, her own brow raised before working her fingers through her hair and retightening the band holding up half her hair. Once as finished blindly composing herself as much as possible without a bathroom, perhaps some makeup, and a brush she tilted her head to the side, giving him a considering look as he buttoned up his own shirt. He was playing with his tongue as she stepped into his space, gliding her hands up his shirt and gripping the fabric to rise up on her tiptoes. Hermione leaned in to place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, but before her lips touched skin, he pulled her hips into his side, turned his face, tilting his head, and snogged her fiercely. Sirius pulled away, eyes wide and shrouded in innocence as she blinked up at him owlishly.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he watched as her mind caught up with his actions as she stepped back and turned. But before she could walk away, he was by her side, hand on her lower back, as he guided them back into the bar; back to the section where their friends were still congregated, thumb tracing patterns against the slinky satin.
He felt the way Remus eyed him, the way Pansy sipped on her cocktail, eyes darting between the two of them, but his eyes didn't leave her small form. Unwilling to second-guessed his actions any further tonight he snatched the blackberry she had pulled out upon reclaiming her seat and thumbed his number into her mobile.
“BD Sirius?” she questioned when he handed it back to her. He leaned in, tongue darting around the outline of her ear before whispering, “Big Dick Sirius, of course.”
Although he was confused as all get out at how casually she had treated their time together, he wouldn’t deny how good it felt to make her laugh as loudly and wholly as she did at that moment.
Later he would tabulate these feelings in with the ones he felt at the Summer Solstice party. Later he would worry about what he was feeling and what this all meant. For now, however, he would enjoy time with the group, and with her, and maybe, just maybe he would wake up as his old self once again.