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In Which Teddy Can't Control His Powers

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In Which Teddy Can't Control His Powers

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Title: In Which Teddy Can't Control His Powers
Rating/Pairing: NC-17, Louis Weasley/Teddy Lupin
Summary: See title. Honestly. (Basically PWP)
Warnings: implied infidelity, unnatural anatomy
Author's Notes: Louis, if you don't know, is Victoire's younger brother. For convenience I'm saying he's of the age of consent in this fic. Many thanks to salt_of_the_egg for goading me into this and withserendipity for heckling me into coherence.

Louis hears crying in the guest room. Or, well, it might be crying. It might also be moaning. That's the weird part—while it's true that Victoire's boyfriend is staying the night, Louis saw his father personally lock and ward them into separate bedrooms. Not only that, but Louis just saw Victoire asleep, when he snuck into her room to steal her nail polish.

So Teddy Lupin is in the guest room. Alone. Making moany-crying noises. Louis can't not investigate.

Louis has known how to get through his father's "None of my children will ever have sex ever" wards since he was thirteen. He doesn't dismantle them, just opens up a little hole he can slip through: whatever's going on in there, he definitely doesn't want interruptions.

What Louis finds, though, is so drastically far from what he expected that he has to stop and gape for nearly a full minute. He expected to find Lupin either weeping or wanking. Both, though, really, is… a bit much. And the reason, while pretty obvious, is completely perplexing. Lupin is pale and sweaty and panting, curled on his side with both hands wrapped around… it's inhuman. It's monstrous. Louis really wants to touch it.

Lupin's cock is so engorged it's nearly touching his forehead. It's dark, almost purple, and Louis figures that explains Lupin's pale face: he's suffering from blood loss. From an erection. It looks painful, like Lupin's whole body is straining just to maintain this. Or like his whole body is straining to try and get it over with. He's not making much progress, it looks like, and finally Louis clears his throat.

Lupin nearly concusses himself, scrambling to cover himself and cracking his head against the headboard in his rush. Louis chuckles, and casts a quick silencing spell around the room. Lupin's too dizzy and exhausted to stop him when Louis gets on the bed, crawls up him, carefully not touching. He mouths something breathlessly, but Louis can't read lips, nor does he care enough what Lupin has to say to let him try again. He bites, instead, shuts Lupin up with sharp little teeth in his lips. Lupin whines, and arches up at him, but Louis carefully avoids letting that… thing touch him. Yet.

Louis sits back, then, straddles Lupin's thighs and takes a minute to figure out how he's going to do this. It's… one hell of an undertaking. It's also something he's been fantasizing about for years, and now it's all laid out for him, here, too weak to get out of it, too hopelessly hard to do anything but writhe when Louis drags one perfectly-manicured nail the whole length of the underside.

Finally, Lupin manages to speak. His voice trembles—probably due to the way Louis is curving the tips of his fingers over the head of his cock, just slipping under the foreskin. "What do you-" He is cut off when Louis uses one hand to push back the hood and the other to drag a trail of precome down the head. Louis smirks, and licks it off his fingertips. Lupin whines.

"What do you want?" Louis pouts, coquettish, pulling back to deny Lupin any contact at all. "I mean… gosh, you're much too big to- well. I might break." He affects a blush, and Lupin whimpers. "You're even too big for my mouth, aren't you? I just don't know what I shall do."

"Don't-" Lupin rasps, and for a second Louis fears that he really will be sent away, denied this perfect fantasy, but Lupin continues, "-care. Something, anything, please…"

That's all Louis needs to hear. Immediately he wrestles out of his pajamas, the satin ripping at the seams with his haste, and slides right up along the length of Lupin's cock. It's big enough that he can touch with almost his whole body, and he rubs himself against it worshipfully. Lupin whimpers again, and bucks up so hard that he nearly throws Louis off. Louis grabs him by the hips and pushes him back down. "Hold still," he gasps out, digging his nails into Lupin's skin. He repositions himself, his own hard cock nestling just between Lupin's (proportional, thank Merlin) balls, and groans loudly when he feels them tighten beneath him. Still, Louis digs his nails in harder, trying to distract him; he wants this to last, damn it.

Once he's aligned and Lupin's stopped flailing, Louis leans in- it could almost be for a kiss, but for the last-minute detour. He only barely has to dip his chin down to lick at the head of Lupin's cock, slipping his tongue down into the slit to lap a little at the truly astounding amount of precome gathering there. Lupin is making these breathy little whimpers, wriggling half-heartedly and clutching at the bedsheets. Louis idly wonders how long he has before Lupin actually faints.

He's mouthing down the head, now, lips spread wide, pushing the foreskin delicately back with his tongue so he can get as much of that gorgeous cock in his mouth as possible. It's still not very much, to be sure, but Louis is practically humping it, rolling and arching and grinding and relishing the hot weight of it pressed against his chest and his cock. And when he practically suffocates himself an attempt to get the whole head into his mouth, accidentally scraping his teeth against it in the process, Lupin keens and bucks, and Louis smartly takes the hint to get his face the hell out of the way.

Lupin's orgasm is- there is no other word for it- epic. Despite his best attempts, Louis still ends up with come on his face and hair, and Lupin's twitching and wriggling underneath him drag him right along over the edge, so that Louis is left collapsed on top of Lupin a moment later, panting and sticky. He gives himself a moment to catch his breath, then sits up a bit to check on Lupin.

Lupin, as Louis could have predicted, has managed to knock himself out completely with the force of coming. He's just as sticky and rumpled as Louis, if not moreso, and the blood rushing back to his face gives him a cute sort of glow. Louis delicately licks a string of come off Lupin's slack face, then groans and sits up the rest of the way. He watches Lupin for a couple minutes, taking a weird sort of thrill out of it. He briefly considers Obliviating Lupin while he's still out, then quickly decides against it. This is definitely something Lupin should have to think about the next time he's shagging Louis' sister.

Speaking of whom- Louis hears a soft noise outside the guest room door, and remembers himself. Silently and efficiently he cleans himself up (he leaves Lupin dirty, and takes a perverse satisfaction out of doing so) and gets back into his pajamas. A couple wordless mending spells eliminate the rest of the evidence, and Louis slips out of the room as silently as he entered it, smirking to himself.
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