Work Text:
This was certainly not the sort of role Remus had expected when he auditioned. The casting had consisted of a very typical, albeit dramatic, monologue. It hadn’t been until after he’d landed the role that his agent informed him of the nudity involved. As though he was meant to research it himself? Maybe he needs a new agent.
What he hadn’t realized, however, was that ‘sex scene’ meant not just one, but close to ten, upon reading the script fully. May as well have signed up to film a porno, at this rate.
Maybe he did.
And so, so much worse for him, his costar is so beyond attractive, and furthermore, entirely unbothered by both the R-rated scenes, and the frequent nudity.
Remus thinks himself to be a good actor, but this is a new level, even with them only in the production of the second of these scenes.
Remus finds himself laid back against a bed, hands resting firm on the thighs of a beautiful Sirius Black, sitting over his hips. He wants to say he doesn’t enjoy the sight, or the knowledge of it, but he finally rocks forward. A bit harsher, now, and Remus knows he should have expected it, with how many times he’s read over the script, but a small gasps escapes his lips, fingers tightening on Sirius’ thighs. His cheeks flush with something that he can’t even attribute to acting, head falling back against the pillow to let Sirius mouth at his neck.
Fuck.
Sirius’ hand presses into the pillow over his head as he shifts again, the fingers of his other hand grazing Remus’ neck.
Fuck.
His fingers tighten again, because he’s almost certain he feels himself hardening under Sirius, and what the hell happened to being a ‘good actor’?
With a small sigh, Sirius pulls back, head hanging.
“Can we call, for fifteen?”
The entire room seems to relax at Sirius’ question, the small group of crew members getting their equipment settled before the director exhales.
“Yeah, ‘course. Take twenty.”
Sirius sits, climbing from Remus, who hardly finds the will to speak before he gets too far.
“Sorry.”
Sirius shakes his head, brows furrowing as he finds their set aside robes, passing Remus’ to him.
“Don’t be,” he says, and Remus is grateful to quickly pull his own on, hastily tying it around himself. “I’m not afraid to call for a break. Don’t want this to be uncomfortable.”
“Still.”
“Not ‘still’,” he sighs, straightening up and fixing the neckline. “I’m gonna go for a fag.”
He pats Remus on the back before turning and squeezing through the technical crew, and a moment later the door falls shut. Remus sits there, for a moment, staring somewhere beyond the group of people trying to make sure all the camera’s are ideally set up. And thank God for that, because if he has to shoot this scene any more than necessary, all because of a fucked up shot, he’s going to lose his mind. It’s too late to quit.
With a heavy exhale, he pushes to his feet, following Sirius’ same path through to the door, and continuing to his trailer, when Sirius is nowhere to be seen. The door swings shut behind him, and he checks twice to be sure it’s locked before collapsing onto the small couch.
Eighteen minutes.
He lets the robe fall from his shoulders, struggling for a second with the restrictive cloth around his hips before managing to get that garment free as well, dropping it to the couch.
He’s always made clear distinctions between his work and personal life, but between how attractive his costar is, and the fact that he has to go back out there in twenty minutes, he doesn’t have much of a choice. One hand wraps around himself, the relief almost immediate as he begins the slow drag, head falling back on a low moan.
Involuntarily, his mind conjures up images of long black hair. Dark curls, and high cheekbones, and a sharp nose. He hardly feels as though he knows Sirius enough to have himself in this position, but every time he tries casting it aside, it just returns.
After a minute of growing preoccupied with warding off the thought—to no avail—he leans into it. Finds himself in a bed—his bed—not surrounded by cameras, or anyone watching, or anyone with a clipboard who’ll have notes in a few minutes. Just Sirius, straddling him again, a curl falling over his face, and a light grin on his lips.
Heat pools in his stomach, and his hand moves just a bit quicker.
His thumbs dig into Sirius’ hips, guiding him quicker, and this time it’s not him who lets out a gasp, followed by a groan. Every move is calculated, even if he seems to be letting Remus take the lead. He tosses his hair over his shoulder, just so it’s not hanging in Remus’ face when he leans forward, arms bracketing his head against the pillow. His lips meet Remus’, soft at first, then trail down his chin and over his jaw, only getting harsher as his hips do.
There’s a knock at the door, the illusion almost immediately snapping, and anxiety replaces the tension that’d been coiling in his stomach. He quickly pulls his robe around himself, like someone will be able to see him through the metal walls and drawn curtains.
“Hm?”
“You gonna open the door?”
Sirius.
His stomach drops, frozen in place for a second before he can even think to move.
“Yeah, one second!”
He winces at how loud his voice comes out, but stands quickly, moving as hastily as possible without rocking the trailer. Shaky fingers tie his robe, and he shoves the intimacy garment behind one of his couch’s cushions, free hand running through his hair in a weak attempt to smooth it.
He knows he looks flushed by the time he reaches the door, but there’s not much he can do other than brace himself and pull open the door regardless. A cloud of smoke greets him, quickly waved away once Sirius realizes he’s opened the door, and he stubs out the cigarette butt beside the doorframe.
“May I?” He gestures vaguely towards the open door, and Remus only sighs, brushing through his hair again before stepping aside.
“Yeah, I s’pose. What’s up? It’s only been like, six, has it not?”
“Wanted to check in,” he answers, taking it upon himself to shut Remus’ door behind him. Taking the liberty of turning the lock, eyes carefully soft as they look over him. “So, checking in…”
“I’m alright,” he nods, and Sirius takes another step forward. “Sorry, again.”
“Don’t be.”
“This just—isn’t my usual sort of project. I wouldn’t have auditioned, but my agent didn’t tell me,” he’s pacing now, the bridge of his nose pinched between two fingers.
“Remus.”
“You’re so fucking professional about everything, I don’t know how you do it—“
A finger hooks over the tie of his robe, stopping him. Sirius’ eyes are soft—grounding, almost—as he pulls Remus just an inch closer. Then, as if by some fucking miracle, he sinks to his knees, hands curling around to hold him by the backs of his thighs.
“You’re wasting a lot of time, right now.” The action shocks him out of his ranting, and all he can think to do is glance to the small clock hung on the wall. Twelve minutes. “If I’m out of line, tell me and I’ll fuck off.”
“You don’t have t—“
“I know,” he nods, tilting his chin up so he’s no longer looking through his eyelashes, but it does nearly nothing to dull the pleading expression. The lust written into his features, even if hidden beneath indifference. “Want to. More than happy to.”
He watches Sirius’ expression for a moment, seeing his features to be entirely genuine, and he simply nods, threading his fingers through those same black curls with a shaky exhale. Hands skate up over his hips, his throat catching on a swallow as they do.
“Fuck, are you sure?”
In lieu of a response, his fingers undo the tie on Remus’ robe, letting it pool at his feet, taking only a second to study his form before taking him into his mouth. He would’ve liked another confirmation, or to be sure Sirius knows he’s by no means obligated, but he assumes there’s not quite time for that.
Besides, the feel of Sirius’ lips around him immediately has his brain short circuiting, knees growing a bit weak, his hold on Sirius’ hair the only thing keeping him upright. It’s significantly less intimate than whatever his brain had conjured up a few minutes ago, but also so, so much better. He wishes there was a wall for him to lean back against, so he didn’t have to rely on his own legs, but Sirius’ tongue running along the underside of his cock is enough to make up for that.
He’s far too close to the edge already, only brought back to the moment by the sound of shuffling, met with Sirius’ bare chest when he peels his eyes open. He’s flung off his own robe, now fighting with his own garment, which he’s able to pry off and shove into his robe’s pocket after a moment.
His fingers wrap around his cock, taking on a quick pace, and his mouth speeds up as well, now that he’s without distraction. A moan escapes his lips, his mind going fuzzy for a long moment before the pleasure builds, nearly to a peak, and he reaches out to lightly slap Sirius’ arm.
“Hold on. Let me—“ he groans again, feeling his breathing pick up in his chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
The words only seem to encourage Sirius further, his tongue growing more talented—firmer—working him through it even as he comes, his fingers involuntarily tensing. He draws back after a moment, letting Remus stumble the few feet back to lean against the wall. The back of his free hand wipes his mouth, the other still working himself over, eyes flitting over Remus’ body.
His mouth won’t seem to form words, giving him only a moment to recover before he steps forward again, taking both Sirius’ hands in his and pulling him to his feet. He spins them around, pressing Sirius against the wall, his stomach doing a little flip at the sound he lets out when Remus’ lips meet his neck. He trails kisses down over his chest until he’s kneeling in front of Sirius, only shooting a single glance up, finding his eyes just as hot. Pleading, almost.
Pushing forward, he wraps his lips around Sirius, one hand resting on his hip, the other curling around the back of his thigh as his nose brushes skin. Sirius is a lot louder than he is, small whimpers or whines or moans escaping his throat with each bob of his head. He speeds up, hollowing his cheeks around Sirius, whose hands grasp for purchase on his shoulders, his hair—anywhere he can reach.
“God,” he huffs out, more moving than any actual sermon Remus has been forced to attend.
His hips buck forward slightly, and if Remus weren’t so worn already, the downright sinful noise that breaks from his throat would have a much more profound effect. Instead, it only has his mind growing a bit hazy, further driven by the choked, rushed nature of his following words.
“I’m gonna—Rem—I’m gonna cum—“
The warning sounds foreign on his lips, like he’s only giving it because he wants to offer Remus the same courtesy he’d been given. Instead, it’s hardly functional, the last of his words cut off by a moan as his hips stutter, spilling down Remus’ throat.
Hands release his hair too quickly, instead clawing at his neck. It’s a kind gesture, truly, but he continues for a moment, feeling as Sirius softens between his lips before finally pulling back. He doesn’t stand—isn’t sure he wants to, when there’s such a beautiful sight right in front of him. Sirius’ chest heaves with each breath, his hair shining with a thin sheen of sweat that’ll surely bother production if he doesn’t get it sorted out.
One curl lies over his forehead, and despite his efforts to blow it out of his face, it only settles right back into place, and eventually he gives up. When he finally straightens his shoulders, pushing away from the wall, he only extends a hand in Remus’ direction, which he takes to be an ask for his robe. Sirius pulls the fabric over his shoulders, casually tying it with a glance towards Remus’ wall clock.
“Have to be back in four,” he informs, looking back to Remus with a still-fond expression when he doesn’t respond. “Need anything? Water?”
“Would you, uh—“ his confidence fizzles mid-question, and he occupies himself with pulling on his own robe before finishing. “Want to get coffee, sometime? As coworkers, break the ice, ‘nd all?”
Sirius snorts, and Remus worries it’s malicious until he sees the wide grin plastered on his lips.
“I’d have thought having your dick down my throat was ‘breaking the ice’ enough. Is it not?” Remus simply shrugs, and Sirius laughs again. “Fine, coffee tomorrow morning. As coworkers.”
God, he’s going to be thinking about that smile the next time he needs to get off. Hell, those sounds.
“Ten?”
“Ten,” he confirms before turning for the door again, shooting a final glance Remus’ direction. “See you on set.”
He could almost miss the wink Sirius gives him before stepping out, but it still manages to make his heart turn over. The sound of footfall fades, and he sighs, forcing himself to stand from the floor and compose himself slightly before returning.